#when i defend myself im just as at fault because why would i defend myself right. why wouldn't i just lie down and take shit

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

nobody here fucking listens to me nobody here fucking cares when its important im so sick of this fucking house

[sohnric]

millennium bug – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: 90s au, twenty-five twenty-one au, brother's best friend au, childhood friends au, fluff, slice of life, coming of age. older brother! sunwoo. essentially just eric being baek yijin. oct-nov scenes inspired by weak hero class 1. no plot just vibes im sorry

warnings: minimal swearing and thats all lol

word count: 19k

a/n: posting a fic for a new fandom is always so scary pls be nice to me deobiblr bc im literally abt to cry. also yes i am calling this a 2521 au bc the plot is so heavily inspired it might just be one. a special thank you goes out to @csenke for dragging me into stanning this group i am enjoying myself 🤞

there are some pros and cons to not having friends growing up. cons: you're always forced to tag along with your brother and his group wherever he goes. pros: his childhood best friend is kind of hot.

JUNE OF 1999

Being Kim Sunwoo’s younger sister is no bed of roses sometimes.

Sure, you get the occasional excitement of having him bring you rollerskating with you down the hill or the ever so rare moments of him defending you in front of your mother when you two have done something wrong (while never saying he was in on the bad act as well, of course), but more than often, you are met with his disgusted looks and insults whenever the two years older boy passes by your room and casually bangs at the door just to spite you.

His snarky looks are especially ones to remember. Maybe it’s because he offers them to you often– much like in this very moment, completely unprovoked, and completely not by your fault.

“But mum–”

“I already told you, Sunwoo,” your mother looks at him with a stern look in her eye, the one that makes chills run down your spine, “you can go if you take Y/N with you.”

“But nobody’s bringing their sister! Mum, come on–”

“Take it or leave it, young man.”

And see, your brother may be 19 years old, but he’s still in need of getting permission to leave the house if it includes an overnight stay. It’s an unspoken rule he always follows, since he’s usually granted the right to leave, but the result of his conversation was different than what he expected this time. And see, you may be just two years younger than him (one year left until you are an adult), but even though your mother is too busy to take care of you and entertain your slowly adultling self on most days because of her highly demanding job, she always makes sure that you don’t stay alone for long, and that’s exactly why (you realize, contrary to your brother) she insists on making you tag along on Sunwoo’s trip to the beach house with his friends.

The male grunts and turns on his heel, not giving your mother another response– and with this, you know she won. And that means you’ll have to pack your bag soon, because you know that there’s no way Sunwoo would miss going to the beach house with his friends– even if it meant making his little sister tag along.

And sure enough, Lee Juyeon’s minivan pulls up into your driveway only a few hours later, and the sound of the honking outside is enough for your older brother to aggressively drag you outside of the house, shutting the door behind you and hollering an angry “Bye mum!” to your mother. Your figure is handled with the least amount of care possible as you’re thrown towards the white van, the door opened and 5 heads already peeking out with expecting eyes, waiting for your brother’s arrival.

“My mum made my stupid sister go with me, so I hope we have space for one more,” Sunwoo huffs as he throws his bag into the trunk, slamming it with more force than was necessary (boy does he know how to throw a scene), an encouraging voice of none other than Juyeon– the driver himself– landing in your ear. 

“Sure, just hop in!”

With that, your feet finally unglue themselves off the ground and bring you into the vehicle. You’re familiar with his friends– since a scenario like this hasn’t happened for the first time and you had to spend your fair time with Sunwoo’s circle growing up, mainly because you never really had many friends yourself. You’re not close with any of them, though, and you’re sure you haven’t seen half of them for ages. 

Lee Juyeon is the responsible one of the group. You’re comfortable with the fact that he’s the driver, since you’re not entirely sure if you’d trust any of the other men in this space behind the wheel (you fear the day your brother gets a driver’s license. You'd bet a million dollars that he’ll die while driving recklessly one day). Next to him on the passenger’s seat is Choi Chanhee, his best friend, carrying a map in his hands and twirling it in all possible directions to get his friend on the right track. In the three-seat behind those two is Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin and your brother himself, and in the very back of the whole van, almost in the trunk, you’re sat next to Eric Sohn– your brother’s childhood best friend.

“Hi guys,” you offer a greeting to all of them, settling into the uncomfortable leather seat (that’s peeling off, just by the way), watching as the rest of the men pay you no mind and ignore your voice, falling into a comfortable conversation with each other.

Sighing, because this always happens– your brother gets too annoyed because he has to bring you with him all the time, and you imagine his friends aren’t fond of the fact either– you settle deeper into the seat and cross your hands on your chest, looking outside of the window. You can’t imagine enjoying your trip now, since you feel like you’re a nuisance, a child they have to take care of (yes, it embarrasses you just the tiniest bit, you have to admit. Although, you do enjoy getting out of the house from time to time), and the fact that your feelings were probably more than justified and also true has you pouting, an unsatisfied feeling weighing at your lungs.

“Hi,” a voice resonates from your side, the sight of a smiling Eric peering at you taking you off guard. You didn’t expect anyone to react to your greeting– not so delayed anyway– and the sight of your brother’s best friend carrying on in the conversation with you has you shocked beyond belief. “Excited?”

Finding yourself hum in agreement– how much you are still excited for the pool and for the sun, you’re not really sure– and although you are upset, something about his open and nice demeanor has you visibly relaxing, the sparkles inviting themselves back into your eyes. “I’ve never been to the beach,” you admit, seeing Eric gasp at you in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “I go every year with my parents.”

“Well,” you hum, “you know how my mother is…” you sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It’s easier to joke about it than to actually let the fact get to you– with your mother being the main news anchor, she is too busy to actually go on trips and form bonds with her own children sometimes. That’s why you spent most of your childhood at Eric’s family’s house in the first place– this is what made you the closest with Sunwoo’s same aged friend. His parents were nice enough to let you stay over and have sleepovers whenever your mum had to leave suddenly and take week-long trips abroad, or have emergency shifts during late evenings. 

Eric hums, sympathizing with you. “Well, at least you get to experience it now!”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly nod, playing with the hem of your jean shorts. It’s the shorts you made yourself by cutting the legs off your favorite pants after you grew out of them and they got too short, and they’re starting to look a little worn-out now. Maybe you should beg your mum to get you some new clothing.

The conversation between the boys grows in volume, doing nothing to help you to relax in the crowded vehicle. You can’t really find a place to fit yourself in and talk, the topics too unfamiliar for you and the feeling of not even being welcome in the discussion sitting heavy on your chest, when a finger bears itself to the flesh of your thigh, making you snap your head around to gape at the source of the contact. Eric looks at you with a boyish grin, sparkles evident in his eyes.

“Wanna see something?” he asks.

“Sure.”

The male digs around his backpack, hands searching through the contents of his bag for only a couple of seconds– since he’s the neat one, contrary to your messy brother– before he takes out a small gadget: a square with a little screen on top, a silver, circular button space sitting big in the very middle of the device. Eric throws the thing into your lap, smiling when you take it into your hands and examine it with curious eyes.

“Have you seen one before? My dad got it for me last week,” he boosts, satisfied with your reaction to it. 

Your mother’s job pays quite well– meaning that you usually have the latest gadgets, the latest trends– but if you’re being honest, you haven’t seen one of these in real life before. Yes, you caught a glimpse of an ad for it in the town center, on one of the big billboards while passing by to get to school in the morning, so you know that it’s an MP3 player, but still; this was your first time touching one and examining it in real life. 

“How does it work?” you ask, watching as the boy scoots from his seat to the middle one, so he is now sitting directly next to you, before he takes out wired headphones from the first department of his backpack and turns the little square over in his hands, finding where the jack goes.

“You put those in,” he says, plugging in the headphones, “and then you press this…” he explains, taking the device out of your hand and pushing on the power button for a few seconds, “and then it should play.”

Watching him with expecting eyes, the boy finally puts the MP3 player back into your hold. Then, his fingers swiftly put the respective earphones into your ears– like you’d do to a little kid that has no idea how they work, making you a little flushed at the action– and after that, you’re left with the sound of an unfamiliar song playing in your ears, making the sound of the chatter in the van completely tune out. Eric keeps on watching you, a sense of pride in his eyes as you nod at him, all excited with the new explory, before he takes one of the earphones out of your ear, grinning.

“Cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “The song is good,” you dumbly say, watching as the boy next to you pridefully nods at the compliment, resting his back against the car seat. 

“It’s the H.O.T album. My dad says they’re good,” he mumbles, moving the headphone he took from you and placing it into his ear, making you nod at him in acknowledgement. The action has your insides bubble with disappointment, thinking that the fun is over as you reach for the other earphone as well, offering it to the male.

Eric looks at you with a shocked pout, shaking his head. “No, we can share!” he says, pointing towards your ear. “If you want, of course.”

The action has you smiling, a shy nod escaping out of you as you reach and put the earphone back into your ear, letting yourself fall deeper into the car seat, listening to the song from Eric’s MP3 player. You’re grateful for his presence– he didn’t have to keep up a conversation with you. He could ignore you, just like the rest of his friend group always has. Maybe it was something about the two of you growing up together that always made the boy at least a bit more affectionate towards you than the rest.

You spend the car ride to the beach house with Eric leaning on your side, listening to music and his occasional blabbering about how his previous days went. 

Somehow, you're glad the seat beside him was the only vacant one when you arrived to the vehicle.

YOUR SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, 1989

You don't quite remember when you met Eric for the first time, if you’re being completely honest. The first memory you have of him is of your seventh birthday party, although you’re almost certain the boy’s been present at some point of your life before– at one point, you think you saw a picture of him and Sunwoo, two chubby toddlers, watching you as you laid on a blanket on the ground somewhere in your photo album. As far as you’re concerned, he may as well have been there when your mother brought you back from the hospital– although you think he must have been too young for that back then.

The first memory you have of Eric Sohn is the day you turned seven– a gloomy, sad day that in the moment, you prayed you wouldn’t have to remember in the first place.

It was already established that while your brother is the social butterfly, you don’t have a big friend group. Actually, you could count the number of your friends on one hand, and since the amount wasn’t as big, your mother allowed you to invite them all over to your house to celebrate your birthday with you. 

She baked a cake, she decorated the living room, hell, she even took a day off from work– something you deemed special, for it doesn’t happen often– and as you sat on the floor of your living room, the cake standing proud on the small coffee table, waiting for your friends to arrive, you hummed a song under your breath, the clock slowly passing the time you agreed for them to come over and celebrate.

At first, you didn’t mind it– everybody gets late sometimes, it’s okay. It was just a birthday party, and you had a lot of time. Not everything had to be set on schedule.

But the closer the clock moved to being one hour, than two after the time your friends were supposed to come, you grew worried. Your mother’s nervous pacing around the living room and her heavy sighs as she sat next to you on the floor, smiling at you in what you can only explain as sad way made you more and more anxious about the fact that you only had three friends, but all three of them seemed to not care enough to come celebrate your birthday with you. And as your mother finally took the final bow in the form of a soft hand on your inner thigh, her tone gentle as she called your name– “Y/N, I think we should light the candles,” you began to tear up.

You were supposed to eat the cake with your friends. You were supposed to hear them sing the birthday song to you. You were supposed to turn on the radio and dance around with your classmates, eat the sweets and unwrap the cheap, but heartfelt gifts they brought along with them to celebrate your birthday. 

But none of these scenarios were happening, and you felt incredibly, incredibly lonely and sad. Forgotten, if you will. Not cared for, definitely.

Hiding your face into your hands, you started to cry. This disappointment was too big for your small heart to take, and you no longer cared about the cake, the candles, the seaweed soup your mother cooked for you to celebrate, the gifts, or the party. All you wanted to do was hide in your room and never come out– something about the whole situation felt deeply embarrassing, and to this day, the moment before the whole day turned around still makes you feel a bit ashamed of yourself. 

Too busy crying, you didn’t notice your older brother watching you with big bambi eyes, a worried glance sent your way each time your sobs grew louder and louder. And maybe the boy only wanted to taste the cake (he’s been bugging your mum about it since the very morning, but he was always sent off with a scolding look telling him that he’ll get a slice when everyone arrives), but no matter what his true intentions were, his actions still managed to pull your seventh birthday party together in a way you never imagined.

The sound of the front door faintly resonated in your brain somewhere in the middle of your aimless sobbing, but you paid it no mind, thinking it was just Sunwoo going out to the yard to kick the ball. See, your older brother had never really known what to do when you cried growing up– it didn’t matter if he was the reason for your tears or if anyone else was. If he was the reason for your emotional outbursts, he tried to shut you up with his palm and get you to stop crying before his mother found out and gave him a scolding, but if someone else was, the small boy sometimes turned angry at the source. Kicking his classmate that once made a snarky comment about you and made you tear up or punching his friend when he was too harsh with you was all he knew to do in these situations, so he wasn’t the one to comfort you with words or hugs. It was only natural for him to escape in this situation.

You were brought to a state of shock and surprise when a hand landed on your shoulder, a familiar voice breaking you from your emotional turmoil.

“Why are you crying? We have to eat the cake!” you heard, your big, sad eyes meeting the small figure of the boy living next door, your brother nervously stepping from one side to the other right behind his best friend. “Can you light the candles, Mrs?” Eric politely asked your mum, pointing towards the cake waiting sadly at the coffee table, the figure of your mother leaving your side only shortly to get the matches from the kitchen and illuminate your face with the small flames.

Confusion mirrored your features as you watched your brother and his best friend sing the birthday song to you while your mum lit your candles, both boys clapping and dancing around, acting silly just to get a laugh from you. You didn't know how Eric got there, but you guessed there are some good sides to having him as your neighbor. The energetic boy did his best to brighten up your mood a bit, and when you blew out the candle, making a wish, Sunwoo even went as far as smashing your face into the cake to bring in the full birthday authenticity.

That got him a slap to the back of his head from your mother, as well as made you stand up from your position– no longer making you look like a disappointed bulk of pity– and chase him around the room, icing falling off your nose to the laminated floor. You got your revenge and smeared the chocolate all over his forehead (he let you chase him down only because it was your birthday and he really, really hated to see his sister cry, but he won’t ever tell you that) and as the three of you sat back down to the floor, watching your mother slice the cake and offer it to you on small white plates, you realized you suddenly weren't as sad anymore.

“What did you wish for?” Eric asked you, mouth full of cake and face messy with chocolate.

“I can’t tell you,” you hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Then it won’t come true.”

“You probably wished for that doll you saw in the store the other day,” Sunwoo snickered as he swallowed, having you glare at him and send a sharp kick to his shin, unwatched by your mother (thankfully), as the boy fought you back, having no mercy.

Music suddenly filled the room as Eric stood up and put the radio on, his 9 year old brain smart enough to know how the device worked, his small figure dancing away to the songs playing on the single radio station you could play without carefully sorting out the antenna so it faced the north, and truly, you didn’t know how it happened, but it had you standing up and dancing around, exactly how you'd imagined doing with your friends from school.

The day wasn’t ruined– quite the opposite, really. It was one of your favorite birthday parties, and ever since then, Eric was invited to every single one you had after. And while Sunwoo may act like he doesn’t hate anything more in this world than having a younger sister, every time you feel like a burden to him, you remember this very afternoon.

You will never tell anyone what you wished for that day– but just to let everyone in on the secret, 

it was to somehow, just like Sunwoo, find someone like Eric for yourself as well. 

JUNE OF 1999

Standing at the side of the pool, eyes squinting from the inevitable force of the sun, you’re starting to regret your decision of coming along just a little. See, you usually don’t protest whenever Sunwoo aggressively drags you around and brings you everywhere he’s supposed to, because even though you love to see your brother angry (especially when you’re the reason behind the emotion), you’d also hate to see him miss out, but now, as the scorching hot sun is having no mercy on every exposed inch of skin– and believe me, there’s a lot of it, since you’re wearing your swimming trunks– and the sweat on your forehead is no longer culminating in beads, but rolling painfully slowly down your forehead, you do admit you’d be a little bit happier in the shade of your little room than here, watching the guys play volleyball in the comfort of the freezing cold pool.

And as the only female around the house, you settle with the patriarchy and bring out a small folding chair and a camping table alongside with a big, sharp knife, struggling to hoist up the giant watermelon you got in a grocery store on your way to the beach house, with the intention of cutting it and serving it to the guys later. Who knows, maybe they’ll like you a little more after that. 

The knife sinks into the thick green skin of the watermelon easily, and so as you accompany yourself with the excited (and not so excited screams coming from the losing side of the game– mainly your brother himself), you cut up the fruit into halves, then quarters, and as you stare at the moon crescents settled on the camping table, you decide to play nice and cut up the fruit into smaller triangles as well, to really get on everyone’s good side.

The yearning for male validation awakes in a woman pretty early on in life. It’s an inevitable misfortune.

“Told you Sunwoo’s all talk but no game!” you hear Haknyeon yell out as the game seemingly ends, the younger boy lunging at him in the pool, fighting him for the truthful words. Glancing at the commotion, you notice the guys slowly getting out of the pool, making you heave out in victory– you’re finally gonna have your turn in the pool. Well, if they don’t decide to occupy it again before you even get a chance to get in.

“Y/N! You cut up the watermelon?” Eric asks a very obvious question, walking up to you with beads of water all over his half-naked body. His dark hair is damply sitting against his forehead, making him look like a wet puppy, but as the male gets closer to you, he drags his palm through the locks and pushes them back, revealing his forehead– a sight sweet to your eyes, but you refuse to pay it much attention in the heat of the moment. It’s just the sun making you delirious as the idea of finding him attractive flashes through your brain, that’s all. 

“I did! Take one,” you smile, watching as the rest of the guys walk over to your little stand– while also obnoxiously swatting out water out of their hair like dogs, refusing to use towels like normal people– and finally, there it comes: appreciative smiles appear on their faces as they each take a piece, biting down on the fruit with delighted sighs.

Sunwoo walks up to you with a surprised look on his face, sighing as he messes with your hair. “If I knew you’d be our servant, I wouldn’t have even minded you going in the first place.”

“You do something nice for people and they jump on the chance to exploit you,” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s just like you, Kim Sunwoo.”

“No, that’s just me having older brother privileges.”

“I hope you choke on that, you know,” you bite at him, pointing towards the piece of sweet watermelon in his hands, the smile on his face turning bitter. There’s a satisfied look on your face when your brother does, indeed, choke on a watermelon seed a few seconds later– and they say dreams don’t come true.

“You didn’t have to,” you hear Eric speak up from the other side, your head turning to face the male, his features appreciative and warm. “Thank you,” he beams. There’s redness on the tip of his nose and his forehead, signaling his quickly approaching sunburn, and you can’t help but laugh out at his clueless, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer self. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at you in question.

“Nothing,” you peep, “you just look like you forgot to use sunscreen,” you mumble, watching as the male gasps and touches his face, a horrified expression overtaking him when the skin under his fingertips burns to the touch. 

“I didn’t forget! It must have rubbed off in the pool,” he mourns, “I must look stupid!” 

“Only a little,” you tease, a grin overtaking your features. See, there’s something about the fact that you’ve known Eric for the entirety of your whole life that makes you more prone to teasing him– you’re familiar with your dynamics and just how far you can go, so his next actions startle you just the tiniest bit as the male looks sternly at you, throwing the half-eaten watermelon slice to the camping table. You thought you had the risks calculated– apparently, you didn't.

“What did you say?”

Examining his features, seeing no signs of anger– just the stoic, fakely-offended face of your brother’s childhood best friend– you shrug. “That you look a bit stupid with your face like that.”

“Oh, okay,” he nods, “you’re going down for that.”

“What do you mea–”

Your words are cut short when the male lunges at you, his arms enveloping your thighs and holding you up. The contact of his cold skin from the pool and your heated figure makes goosebumps appear all over your body, your hands instinctively reaching around him to support yourself as he walks closer to the pool– his intentions are suddenly painfully clear and you start to panic. 

“This will teach you to respect your elders,” Eric huffs, the turquoise surface of the water slowly coming into your point of view.

“Stop! Stop-stop-stop,” you squirm, kicking your feet and trying to take down the predator, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, alright?”

The male takes a halt for a split second– making you foolishly believe he’ll let you off– before he breaks out into a devilish grin and continues to walk to the edge of the pool. “Too late.”

“Eric!” you scream, the volume of your voice resonating through the whole beach, your heart thumping wild against your ribcage with the awaiting process. You’re not even sure what you’re scared of anymore– you can swim and you bet the water will feel nice against the scorching sun– but still, you’re absolutely terrified as the male has no mercy on you, carrying you steadily towards the water. “At least let me tie my hair first! You can dump me in after, I promise,” you mourn, trying to buy yourself more time.

“Alright,” he nods, waiting at the very edge of the pool, leaving you to take the purple scrunchie off your wrist and gather your hair together, preparing to tie it into a bun so it doesn’t get in your way when you’re in the pool. The hair tie is just at the tips of your fingertips, the first loop over the hair ready to be done, when a scream cuts out of your throat.

The feeling of falling suddenly overtakes your body, leaving you no time to prepare yourself for the impact of the cold water against your skin and all up in your nose, since you didn’t pluck it when you were dumped into the pool. The fall only lasts a split second until you’re below the water, the force of it resonating in your ears, and when you finally act on your instincts and stand up in the pool (it wasn’t even that deep in the first place, only reaching to your upper stomach), you cough out all the water and pray to gods you don’t throw up chlorine into the freshly cleaned pool. After you’re done catching your breath and getting oxygen into your lungs again, you do your best at getting all the hair out of your face. 

There is laughter landing into your ears as soon as you manage to get all the water out of them by leaning your head to the side and violently slapping each one, and when your eyes look up, you see an amused Eric Sohn bending over in his waist at your disheveled appearance. 

Grunting and pointing a finger to the criminal that almost made you drown, you huff out. “I’ll kill you! Just you watch.”

Your scrunchie nowhere to be found, forever lost somewhere outside of the beach house, you think, as it flew off your hand in the impact of the attack, shock makes your figure shake alongside of the coldness of the water, making you audibly sigh. 

Yes. You do regret coming along just a little.

JULY OF 1999

Somewhere along the way, Eric Sohn starts acting as if he’s your second older brother. Sure, you’ve known the male your whole entire life and he’s seen you grow up, but it took him 17 years of your life to come to a point where he gives you equal amount of attention whenever he’s over at your house than he does to your brother, and even asks Sunwoo if you’re coming along with them whenever they leave to hang out somewhere else. It’s a change that comes naturally and slowly, and you welcome it unknowingly– the revelation shocks you on a hot summer day, though, when the idea finally comes to you in full force.

You would even argue and say Eric acts more like your brother than your actual sibling does– he asks if you’ve eaten and listens to you when you talk (which Sunwoo never does, well, except from when he’s arguing with you). Eric even compliments your outfits sometimes and lets you borrow his MP3 player from time to time– Sunwoo would never share his things with you, no matter how hard you pleaded and threatened to tell your mum. Yes, your brother's an adult and you’re one year away from becoming one– you still resolve your conflicts through your only parent, though. Some things, you never grow out of.

“I wanna try using the skateboard now, Sunwoo,” you order sternly when the boy finally reaches your destination. You’ve been sitting on the sidewalk for quite some time now, since your brother and his friend decided that they’re gonna try out their new skateboards on the hottest day of the year. Your town doesn’t have fancy skateparks and ramps like the ones you’ve seen in the music videos on TV, so you don’t really know what initially made the two buy those things, but you do admit that even driving up and down the road in front of your house does seem a little fun– so much you’d love to try it.

“What a shame we all wish for things we can’t have,” he shrugs ironically, shaking his head at you from his position above. The male reaches down for his bag, taking out a water bottle and putting it against his plush lips, all while you glare at him from below, still seated in your initial position. Eric comes up to you two, squishing at the soft plastic bottle in Sunwoo’s hold, making the water splash your older brother in the face, leaving a winning grin to be shared between you and the shorter boy, an expression that makes you all warm on the inside. See, at least Eric always has your back.

“You can try mine, if you want,” the latter shrugs, offering you a smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “why not?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just didn’t expect you to offer, since as you saw, my dear brother just refused when I asked…” you mumble, standing up from the sidewalk and taking the skateboard into your hand. Eric offers it to you with an outstretched arm and watches as you put the board on the floor, squinting at it with much examination.

“Do you know how to ride it?” he asks.

“No,” you shake your head, “but I mean, if Sunwoo can do it, how hard can it really be?” you joke, seeing as the said boy glares at you, finally finishing his water and dropping the bottle to the ground. 

“I’ll remind you of that statement when you eat shit on the pavement,” he shushes you, rolling his eyes. 

Not paying more attention to the grumpy being that is your own brother, you relocate your attention back to the skateboard on the heated road. You’re lucky you live on a street where cars don’t often drive by, since your neighborhood is on the very edge of the town, so you don’t really fear being run over by a pickup truck. What you do worry about, though, is your lacking sense of balance, which you discovered when you learned how to ride the bike for the first time. While your brother was a professional in no time, it took you weeks to get it right, and so with the idea of riding a board that provides you zero sense of security, you get a bit worried for your own life.

Dragging your hair out of your face and aimlessly trying to tuck it behind your ears– there’s no use in trying though, as the strands slip out just as fast as they found their place– you keep staring at the board only a few centimeters away from your feet, mentally calculating your next move. There’s a noise of a backpack being opened and rustling around in the background of your miserable thoughts, and when you look up to see what’s going on, you notice Eric offering you a small, purple bundle of fabric. 

“What’s that?” you ask, even though the answer is clear as the day– you recognise your own scrunchie with no problem. You’re just surprised to see it in his hold. You thought it was forever buried somewhere in the beach house, since you weren’t able to find it after you got out of the pool, no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh,” he shrugs, amidst a little too nonchalantly, “I found it and figured it was yours, but I forgot to give it back to you then… it seems like you need it now, though,” he offers you an explanation, lips pressed into a thin line that slightly signifies a smile.

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding as you take the hair tie out of his outstretched palm, gathering your hair into a bun and tying it up on the crown of your head– the staring contest you’ve been having with the board is much clearer now, when you don’t have your messy strands in the way. The idea of Eric keeping your scrunchie after finding it at the beach house makes your stomach do a weird kind of turn– you guess it made you a bit weirded out, if you’re being honest.

“Want some help with that?” he asks, pointing towards his skateboard.

Nervous, cracking your knuckles as you meet his eyes– he looks a bit amused, but still genuine– you nod, admitting defeat. There’s no way you’re getting on top of that board without help and not falling down. It’s always better to be safe than to be sorry, and so when Eric laughs airly at your composure and takes a few steps closer towards you, you let the male lead you, finding comfort in his secure words and actions.

Eric offers you his arms to hold when you try to get on the skateboard. He is peering at you from under his eyelashes when you put one of your legs onto the wood, his grip on your forearm getting firmer when you try to get your other foot on as well– and you must admit that you suddenly don’t feel like you might die anymore when there’s someone holding you and standing by your side. 

“See? It’s not that hard,” Eric mumbles, his voice low and reassuring from the proximity. You notice your hands sweating a little when his palm envelopes yours– damn the sun and its unbearable heat making you embarrass yourself– but he doesn’t mention it as he firmly holds you and meets your eyes. “I’m gonna drag you around a bit so you get used to it before trying yourself,” he says before taking a few steps forward, preparing to be your own type of personal driver.

Having him instruct you and help you around makes you feel more comfortable on the board. Sunwoo would never do such a thing for you– he’d enjoy watching you fall down and break your neck and possibly die– so you’re more than happy to have someone in your life that takes care of you in ways your older brother refuses to. 

The skateboard moves forward a little, starting slow, but then picking up speed as Eric jogs a little, making you laugh at the action. He does not have to go above and beyond, but he still does– but you guess it’s good for him to let out his energy somewhere. After a while, he looks back at you and meets your eye with a warm gaze, making you nod at him reassuringly and hold up a thumb of the hand he’s not holding right now, signaling that you’re okay and enjoying yourself. That has the male let go of your hand and let you take the road with the laws of physics, moving forward by yourself with the force he created. 

It’s nice. It’s fun. 

Yes, you totally understand why Eric and Sunwoo wanted skateboards after seeing them on TV. Hell, you want one now.

“Try it yourself now!” Eric encourages you as the board naturally comes to a stop under you, and his smiling face is enough for you to take initiative and nod, relocating one foot off the wood and placing it on the floor, then kicking it and making yourself move on the simple vehicle.

A moment of surprise envelopes you like a warm hug when you manage to not fall off and keep your balance, the joy of it making you try to go faster on the board, kicking once, twice against the pavement with the sole of your old, beaten up shoe. “I’m doing it!” you yell, glancing back at Eric standing on the sidewalk, watching you with excited eyes. The male offers you a victorious holler, something that makes you break into a laugh, makes your confidence blossom in marvelous ways.

Confidence rises in you so much you try to take a U-turn and go back to your teacher– perhaps showing off that you really got the hang of it now, or something– but as you try to maneuver the board and turn right, there it comes: the moment where you realize that you were, once again, too overly-confident in your abilities that are, sadly, very poor. Your body sways from side to side, your poor balance laughs at you and points an accusing finger at your attempts, and, well, to put it frankly, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes and the moment plays in slow motion as you lose the board from below your feet– the wood flying somewhere to the opposite side of the road, not at all where you meant to go in the first place– and your body inevitably comes crashing to the ground.

Awaiting the hard pavement meeting your nose and breaking it, you brace yourself with palms outstretched in front of you, the last remains of self-perseverance entering the sane parts of your brain in what you think are the last seconds of your miserable life. Another moment of surprise greets you when your yelp is muffled against something soft and your hands don’t hit the hard pavement, your ears filled with a grunt that belongs to another human swiftly chiming in and catching you before you fall.

Firm hands hold your waist– the touch somehow familiar, enveloping you in a strange sense of deja vu– and even though your body goes limp in terror, the male has you back on your feet in no time, his palms on the exposed skin of your stomach. The realization has you burning up as you look up and meet Eric’s eyes, gasping at the closeness of his face to yours. 

“You okay over there?” he asks as you unconsciously study his face– you never noticed his nose looked this nice up close– before you wake out of it and nod urgently, breaking away from his hold. You’re not gonna try to calculate the effort he must have put in just to chime in and catch you from where he was standing in such a short moment, but something about the passing thought of it has you weak in your knees from gratefulness. 

“Uhm- yeah,” you nod, kicking the pavement with your stained shoes, “I just… miscalculated my skills, that’s all,” you sheepishly hum, hearing the boy snicker at your shaken-up composure.

Watching him take off and retrieve his skateboard from where it wandered off against the curb– much to his golden retriever energy– you sigh and prepare to go sit back on the sidewalk, having enough of new experiences from the shock still lingering in your fingertips. You take a glance down the road, seeing your older brother cruising on the street– when and how he got there, you truly have no idea– when you hear Eric, who seemingly has different ideas for your next actions, call at you from the middle of the pavement.

“Where are you going? Come back!” he asks, having you look at him in surprise, mouth agape and eyes big, staring at him. He now has the board under his shoulder, but puts it back on the road and points at it, shrugging to himself. “I’ll push you down the road, it’s gonna be fun!”

“Eric, I’m literally going to die–”

“No, you’re not. Come on, I promise,” he says, but still, he doesn’t have you convinced. Your feet move against your best conclusions, though, and when you come to a halt right in front of your companion, he offers you a boyish grin. “Sit down on it, that way you’re more balanced. I swear you’re not gonna fall off, okay? I got you.”

“You promise?”

“Yes,” he nods, determined.

“Pinky swear,” you mumble, holding up your pinky finger– all thoughts of seeming childish pushed to the side in the desperate moment– and the male in front of you shakes his head in disbelief, breaking into a laugh.

“Cute,” he huffs, “yeah, okay. Pinky swear,” he nods, interlacing your pinky with his and bumping his thumb against yours, the seal foolishly making you feel more secure as you follow his order and take a seat on the skateboard, your hands gripping the bottom of the wood so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Okay, ready? 3, 2, 1–” he chants as he pushes you, two steady hands coming in contact with your shoulder blades, force making you move on the board, wheels taking you down with gravity. The sound of Eric’s shoes hitting the pavement fills your ears as you go faster, and as you finally get to the part of the hill that takes a downwards slope, he offers you a final push, sending you down the road. 

Wind makes your hair fly back, your surroundings blurring as you yelp and scream, but you can’t say you’re not enjoying the ride. Eric was right– it was fun, you liked it, and something about the gesture had you all warm on the inside. The breeze has you cool down a little in the summer heat, and the board continues to move even as you pass your older brother standing at the bottom of the slope, away from your trajectory. 

Body relaxing when the skateboard finally slows down, you let out a heartfelt laughter. Turning back and seeing Eric jog down the road with a humongous grin on his face, you offer him two thumbs up above your head, watching as he returns the gesture and makes his way back to the two of you on the bottom of the small hill.

The truth is, this was the day you realized Eric Sohn has always found his way to make you feel included and safe. 

You can’t help but feel grateful.

AUGUST OF 1999

“Sunwoo, you have to tie a knot here and then– no, you dumbass, you’re doing it completely wrong,” you mourn as you watch your older brother with a mess of thread in his lap, a focused scowl on his face. There’s a fan standing across from you, blowing cold air into your face, but you still feel yourself grow heated with frustration as Sunwoo just can’t help but not understand the art of making friendship bracelets. It’s not like you’re forcing him to do them– he was the one that asked you to show him how to, muttering something about offering one to his classmate Yeji once he’s back in school– so in theory, he should be putting in effort, no? 

Or maybe he is. Maybe he’s just… incompetent.

“I don’t get it,” Sunwoo hums under his breath, sighing as he leans against the sofa in your living room, the two of you sitting on the floor accompanied by his best friend squinting at you from the opposite side, a comic book in the latter's hand. The myth of men not being able to multi-task is quickly thrown into the bin as you watch Eric pay equal amount of attention to the comic book and the dialogue between you and your brother, and when Sunwoo seems to give up on the art of making friendship bracelets, his best friend can’t help but laugh.

“You’re giving up already? This is how you want to get a girlfriend?” you poke your brother to his side and take the threads off his lap, examining the mess of a safety pin and meters of yarn, all knotted up and not coming along in the shape you taught him to at all.

“It’s not to get a girlfriend, I just-”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, huffing as you roll his poor attempt at friendship bracelet into a ball and throw it to the corner of the room, making a mental note to pick it up and throw it to the bin later. “You know what, just give her this one and pretend you made it,” you mutter, taking a bracelet you'd already made to demonstrate in between your fingers and throw it into Sunwoo’s lap, the older one catching it and examining it under his nose.

“That looks pretty good,” he hums, making you snort at his appreciative comment. The bracelet is pink and red, the colors just screaming romance and cute energy, which is exactly what a girl needs to be swayed by your brother. You can’t really believe a bracelet will make her swoop into his arms, because truthfully, with your brother’s face and manners, every living thing is keeping a fair distance, but hey, it doesn’t hurt to try, does it? Maybe his classmate is… majorly blind? That might do it?

“Of course it looks good,” you scoff, “that’s because I made it,” you nod, averting your gaze towards your lap, threading your fingers through the yarn you attached to a safety pin on your sweatpants to keep the growing friendship bracelet in place. 

“Then why is the one you’re making right now so ugly?” Eric asks, pointing towards the creation. 

Glancing up at the male slowly, mentally throwing all different kinds of curses at him for daring to talk badly about your craft, you huff. “What do you mean, ugly?”

“The colors… they don’t… they don’t really go together,” Eric sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his neck, quickly averting his gaze from you and gluing it back into his comic book. You think that if he doesn’t stop being a smart-ass and throw jabs at your artistic choices, he’s gonna have to protect his comic book with his own body– and you bet he’d do that, because he borrowed it from the library. The fees for damage are high.

“That’s just… not true at all,” you muse, but groggily take a look at the creation once again, but now, thanks to the remark, seeing it in a completely different way. Shades of orange, brown and purple stare back at you amidst a little disappointedly, and as you thread the yarn and make a couple of knots to end the bracelet, you can’t help but feel a pout growing on your face from the realization. Eric might be right. It does look a little bad…

“Whatever. Your taste is just bad,” you snap as you finish off the craft piece, unclasping the safety pin and sliding the bracelet off the inside, freeing it from the hold. Eric laughs a little at your frustrated state– similarly to what you do when you manage to get Sunwoo upset– and with that, you sigh and put the bracelet on the coffee table.

“I’m going out to the store to get some chocolates,” you say as you stand up, goal clear in your mind, “have fun, losers.”

“You’re still collecting the stickers from these?” Sunwoo asks, a mischievous smile growing on his lips. The teasing is inevitable and coming very soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it– you’re fully aware, which only further makes you want to escape the situation more quickly. Rolling your eyes at your brother’s antics, you move towards the door. 

“Yes, Sunwoo, I am. They’re cute and make me happy, do you have a problem with that?” you point an accusing finger at the male, having him shrug, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“You’re such a kid,” he huffs, averting his gaze from you when he lands the comment, the jab coming straight at your fragile heart.

“Okay, then,” you note, “I’ll just have my pretty and cute bracelet back, and you can get your girlfriend something else-”

The male quickly regains his previous composure, swatting his hands in hurry just to make you halt in your sentence. His eyes are big and his mouth is a little agape in terror as he tries to save his ass, plea written all over his face. “I was just joking! Don’t be so petulant… go get your cute stickers, they’re so fun!”

Humming to yourself, your face is tugged up into a victorious smile. “That's what I thought. So, as I was saying, have fun, losers.”

“Wait!” Eric suddenly calls for you, making you turn on your heel in the middle of your escape, eyes peering at the male. “Don’t I get a bracelet too?”

The request catches you off guard. There’s a certain kind of spark in Eric Sohn’s eyes as he asks the question, and you can’t really place it in any category, but it has you nervously shrugging at the preposition. You’re not really sure why Eric would want a bracelet from you, but to avoid confrontation and also the weird leap of your heart surely leading you into cardiac arrest, you only shrug and move back inside of the living room, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you scan the surroundings, searching for something.

“Sure,” you nod, taking the ugly bracelet off the table and offering it to him, “you can have that one.”

You hold a staring contest with the older boy for a couple of seconds, his head undoubtedly swirling with arguments and comments about the apparel of the friendship bracelet, but he’s smart– he must know the survival of his beloved comic book must be at stake. So, he only nods and smiles at you, outstretching his hand to you and nudging his head in its direction.

“Okay,” he hums, “tie it for me?”

A second comes by– a heartbeat, really– in which you chew on your bottom lip and gasp at the request, but still, you nod and come closer, crouching down to be at his level and taking the thread into your fingers. You wrap the bracelet around his wrist, making sure to leave a bit of wiggle room before you tie a knot, bringing the ends together, all while feeling the eyes of Eric glued to your face, watching every micro expression flash through your unsettling composure.

When you’re done, making a move to hide your hands behind your back and standing up, your limbs bump into each other and send an unspoken sense of electricity all through your body. The sensation is so strange you don’t meet anyone’s eye before you leave the room, yelling out a goodbye as you hurriedly open the front door and run out to get fresh air (it’s August, though. The air is humid and only makes your head spin more).

You clear your throat before you take off to the grocery store. It's only when you're halfway there that you realize you'd forgotten to bring your wallet with you. It's okay, though– you take this chance to walk around, regaining your casualty.

You bet Eric will take the bracelet off in a matter of a week.

SEPTEMBER OF 1999

The leaves start turning orange and the weather a bit colder when you become hyper-aware of your shifting composure whenever Eric Sohn is around. The way you feel heat rushing to your cheeks whenever he calls you cutie, a nickname he’s had reserved for you since you two were little kids, the way you feel weak in your knees whenever he casually brings his arm around your shoulders or when he bends down to tie your shoelace in the middle of the sidewalk. You don’t really know what those sudden changes are, yet, you feel a bit embarrassed by them whenever they take place. You don’t think it’s normal to feel this way around your brother’s best friend, and the more you hang out with him, the more you wish you read less books as a child– because now, you’re also hyper-aware of the title those feelings may have. 

Still, it only comes to you on one September afternoon– you wake up from blissful unawareness and jolt with the quickly opening pit in your stomach at the strange revelation.

“Eric! Sunwoo isn’t home, though?” you mumble, confused as you notice the boy standing on your doorway, a plastic bag in his hand and a red Nike jacket enveloping his frame.

“I know, he said he’s hanging out with Juyeon hyung today,” he nods, “I brought you something, though,” he says, holding up the bag and making sure you get a chance to see it, offering you a boyish grin.

“Oh?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows at the male. When you do nothing to invite him inside, he does so himself– slightly nudging you in your side as he passes your figure and enters your house. He acts like he owns the place, and by the amount of time he’s spent in your home, you’d think he does– he doesn’t, though. The only thing he owns is just a lot of audacity.

The male takes off his shoes in the entryway and walks his way over to your room– a surprising act, considering he’s spent the least amount of time in this very place– and when he’s sure you’re following his every move, he empties the contents of the bag to the middle of your freshly made bed. Watching as approximately ten items fall out of the plastic, your eyes widen with surprise as you recognise your favorite chocolate– the mini bars with stickers inside, the ones you collect and stick into your journal and look at in the middle of the night, giggling to yourself and kicking your feet at the adorable pictures in your make-shift collect book.

“Woah,” you gasp when the male looks at you, seemingly awaiting your response, and when he gets the wished outcome, pride overtakes his features, shrugging to himself.

“My mum got some for free because she bought a lot of cabbage for kimchi yesterday,” he explains, “I thought of you when I saw them, so I bought you some more.”

“I- you-” you stutter, emotions too big for your own good swelling all inside your fragile, little self, hands running into your hair and tugging at the roots to wake yourself up from the dream. “You didn’t have to!”

“We got them anyway, and I know you like the stickers,” Eric shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, completely ignoring the fact that he said he bought you some more, your heart skipping a beat at the sentiment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively take a step closer to your bed, gathering a bar of chocolate into your hand and opening it, taking a bite.

“You can have the stickers if you give me some chocolate,” Eric says close to your ear, almost as if he was creating a masterplan, to which you eagerly nod and plop onto your bed, moving the bars of sweets into one pile. As you continue to munch on the first one, you unwrap the sticker and look at it, praying to yourself as if you were checking if your lottery ticket was worth any cent– hoping you get a sticker you don’t own yet.

The image of a cute panda would cheer anyone up even in their darkest moments– not you, though, as you mourn and sigh, disappointment clear in your features. 

“What?” Eric asks, eyes big pools of worry.

“I already got that one.”

“Ah,” he nods, seemingly understanding– much to your surprise, “well, we got 9 more tries, let’s get to eating.”

Wrappers are rustling in your bed sheets as you and Eric eat the concerning amount of chocolate, gathering the stickers in a little pile on top of your notebook, promising each other to not look at the stickers as you go and just make a grand reveal at the end. Eric’s full cheeks are a sight you enjoy, telling him he looks like a squirrel– to which he sends a light flick to your forehead, telling you you don’t look much different– and soon enough, the nine bars left disappear from your plain sight (you only had 3 and Eric ate the remaining 5. He’s a growing boy, though, so you understand. He needs to get his undying energy from somewhere.).

“Ready for the reveal?” you ask, locking your gaze with Eric.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, you get to the pile of stickers in the middle of your bedsheets. Looking at the first one, there’s a happy squeal cutting out of your throat, the image of an adorable yellow duck warming you up with euphoria. 

“You don’t have that one yet?”

“I don’t,” you nod, “this is just perfect.”

Eric nods and watches you with a certain kind of warmth in his gaze as you open up your notebook and stick the newest addition to your little sticker farm– or a ZOO, however you wanna call it. The next sticker from the pile is added as well– a brown, big bear– and the next one too, the most adorable colorful parrot slapped to the corner of your page. 

The rest of your stickers are the ones you already own, though– a displeased look takes over your features at the knowledge, but still, you can’t help but beam at the fact that you have 3 new additions to your collection, and they were a gift from Eric Sohn himself. Someone who doesn’t make fun of your childish habit. Someone who feeds your little interest, watches you with excitement in his eyes as you indulge. Someone not like your brother. 

Someone you could never see the way you see your brother.

“What do you do with the duplicates?” Eric asks, pointing to the sad pile on the top of your notebook. His figure is closer to you now, since he wanted to watch you stick the animals into your notebook, his crossed legs almost pressed against yours on the small bed.

“Well, usually, I just throw them out,” you shrug, “but since you’re here…” you muse, the idea plopping into your head like the newest discovery you should probably patent, peeling the back of one of the dog stickers off and swiftly turning towards your companion, mischief sparkling in your eyes.

You put the sticker on his left cheek, making the boy jump. “Hey!”

Giggling, taking another one of the stickers and pressing it to the middle of his forehead, Eric starts to fight you, your bodies wrestling on the bed. You don’t think he puts much effort into getting you off him– that, or he’s insanely weak– and in no time, his face is adorned with all different kinds of animals, his hair messy from tussling in your bedsheets. The image has you laughing before you realize you’re basically straddling him on your bed, his big eyes gaping at you from below, his appearance enough to make something in your brain short-circuit and make you leap off him, clearing your throat.

Heat rushes into your cheeks as you take a seat next to him, playing with your fingers. You pray for anything to come and ease the awkwardness you caused, and sure enough, today must be your lucky day. “Hey, look here!” 

You call for the boy as you swiftly take your polaroid camera off your bedside table– the one that belonged to your dad, the one you fought with Sunwoo about, the one your mum said was yours because Sunwoo is too careless with his things to keep it safe– and snap a picture of the puppy-like boy, laughing at the fact that now, you have the image of him looking dumb and covered in stickers forever. Or at least until he doesn't take it away from you– which he attempts quickly.

“Hey!” he yelps again, huffing as he lunges at you, trying to take the picture out of your grasp as you drop the camera into your soft sheets. Your feet take you to the living room, navigating through furniture, and when you don’t hear footsteps follow you, you think you’re safe– Eric does have a lot of energy, but chasing you around gets tiring for him quickly when he knows you'll never let him win.

Entering your room once again, prepared to find him on your bed like before, you’re taken by surprise as a shutter sound goes off right after you open the door, a polaroid picture taken of your face making you temporarily blind at the flash.

“Eric!” you whine, hating that there’s a picture of you standing shocked at your doorway now forever in the universe– not really caring that the boy just got you back with the exact stunt you pulled on him just a few minutes ago. Before you get a chance to blink out the blind spots in your vision caused by the flash and run after him, though, you feel him gently press you out of the doorway and slip outside, the sound of the front door opening and closing after him resonating along his slowly disappearing, amused laughter.

Serves you right, doesn’t it? 

Sighing, you shake your head and take a seat on your bed, the picture of the boy still in between your fingertips. You only take a look at it when your vision comes back to normal, and as the image of Eric covered in stickers, hair messy and cheeks rosy below the animal print comes into your sight, the revelation arrives the same second a starstruck smile plays with your features.

And with that, you’re absolutely terrified. 

Throwing the polaroid picture onto the bedside table and lunging yourself into the sheets, you scream into your pillow and wish for the feelings to disappear– because in what world does a crush on your brother’s best friend ever come to a happy ending?

OCTOBER OF 1999

Once October hits, you find yourself home alone more often than you’d like. Sure, you don’t mind having some me time to read comic books or watch the TV uninterrupted in the living room, but still– alone turns lonely pretty quickly, and somehow, you start to regret the fact that you’ve been relying on your older brother and his friends for so long instead of making some connections on your own.

Sunwoo started to play soccer at school– something is telling you that he might go far if he keeps it up– and that’s why he’s been stuck at practice every single day, coming home late in the evening all tired, but happy, so you’re not really complaining. Eric works in the little bistro downtown now, since he wanted to make some money and not rely on the allowance Mrs. Sohn gives him every month, and it’s not like you were that close to begin with, but the fact that the boy is now too busy to meet you is making your spirit fall just the tiniest bit. And with your mother always being at work, you find yourself alone in your room, laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling. 

Sometimes, you journal. About anything and everything, really. You don’t really think you’re ever gonna read back the entries once you’re older, since they would just be a reminder of how miserable and boring your teenage years really were, and that’s why you allow yourself to be authentic. On most days, you write about your assignments for school. Sometimes you bad mouth a classmate or two– gossiping with the diary pages, because you don’t really have any human beings to do so in real life– and seldom, you allow yourself to get into topics that evoke the slightest bits of existential crisis in you.

Topics like college. Growing up. Your lack of hobbies and social interaction with the outer world. The newly found crush on Eric Sohn…

Okay, maybe you do write about the boy with brown hair and dark eyes a little too often. You can’t help it, though– when he’s not giving you any new interactions to dwell on, you have to just pick apart the old ones. You think it’s a natural reaction.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing one October afternoon, the lamp in your room on, since the evening comes faster when the weather is colder, as you’re laying in your bed and kicking your feet back and forth, chewing on the end of your pencil. The sound of your doorbell resonates through the house suddenly and startles you, making you jump awake from your delirious delusions.

Mentally going through the list of possible visitors you could have– because it can’t be your mother or your brother, since they never forget to carry their house keys– you’re lost, not really finding any fitting candidates. Furrowing your brows, lost in thought and frankly, a bit confused, you plant your socked feet onto the wooden floor and walk over to the front door just in time for the bell to ring again. Scratching the back of your neck in nerves, thinking of precautions you could take for your own safety– since your front door doesn’t have a peep hole and you don’t want to open the door to a complete stranger– you clear your throat and yell over the door.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“Delivery!” a voice calls through the door, making you huff. 

“I didn’t order any food?” you yell back, confused. “Sir, there’s another house behind ours, sometimes the mailmen get confused and we get their mail. Maybe try there?” 

“The address is right, though?” the voice calls again, and somehow, it sounds kind of familiar… no, it can’t be, you dumb goose. You’re just imagining things because you’ve spent the last 20 minutes writing about the curve of his nose into your diary.

“There must be a mistake-”

“Come on, Y/N, open the door,” the voice on the other side mourns, the mention of your name making you jump, completely startled. The tone the man says it in is sweet like honey, though, so familiar in your ears, that you mentally want to slap yourself– so you weren’t dreaming. It is him.

Dragging your hand through your hair to smooth it down, praying you look at least a little presentable– although in your stained sweatpants and the Pokémon shirt you inherited from Sunwoo when he grew out of it, you doubt that’s even possible– you open the door and try to offer Eric a warm smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Food delivery,” Eric shrugs, pointing with his thumb in the direction behind his back, where his bike undoubtedly stands up against your gate.

“Oh…. but I already told you I didn’t order anything,” you mumble, confused. Studying his face– because a girl can indulge when she has the opportunity, am I right? – you notice his hair has grown a little longer, falling into his eyes. You bet it’s hard for him to see, but you must admit it looks nice, and you almost tell him, before you catch yourself and break away from the sentiment. 

The male snickers. “I know, I was just joking,” he says, “I did bring you food, though.”

“Why?” you ask, confused when he bends over and picks up a plastic bag off the ground, a container of food inside, the warmth of the contents making condensation appear all over the red sack. 

“We made this by mistake and it was just gonna be thrown out if nobody took it,” he shrugs, “and I figured you haven’t eaten yet– or if you did, you just had those cold kimbap rolls from the store– and I wanted to get some warm food into your stomach.”

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding at the explanation. It does explain the source of the food really well, but truthfully, it explains nothing about the fact why Eric thought of bringing you the food instead of taking it home with himself– he’s a foodie if you’ve ever seen one. The idea of him worrying about if you were fed or not is equally as strange and interesting in your head– still, you clasp your hand around the bag and take it, the smell making you involuntarily hungry. “Thank you.”

Eric only nods at you, a smile beaming at his face. “Well,” he sighs, “I’d love to stay longer and hang out, but I’m still on the clock, so…” he mumbles, taking a hesitant step backwards towards his bike, eyes never breaking contact with yours.

“Oh, right,” you nod, “that’s okay. Have a fun day at work!” you muse, watching him as he grins and finally retrieves back his bike, opening up the gate to your property and escaping, waving at you as he gets on.

“I’ll see you soon!” he calls as he rides off, your eyes following him until his figure disappears behind a corner, your ears buzzing with excitement and your lower lip trapped between your teeth with the innocent promise.

Walking back into the house, you grin as you close the front door behind you and carry the food into the kitchen. You quickly get the containers out of the damp bag, putting them onto the wooden table, and gasp when you find a sticky note on the very top one, a messy handwriting scribbled in a rush, but stuck to the food with care.

Eat well and don’t skip meals, Y/N-ie!! – Eric x

Not being able to battle your smile anymore, you decide to open up the containers and stuff your mouth with the food instead– only to find your favorite dish inside, staring back at you in what seems to be a dream that’s too good to wake up from. 

And sure, you are delusional, but are you delusional enough to believe that this wasn’t all a coincidence? You’re not so sure.

Still, you eat the food with feet kicking back and forth as you sit in the silent kitchen, the empty house no longer feeling so lonely. When you’re done, you throw the trash out– everything but the sticky note, which you glue into your diary a few minutes later, hoping to keep the memory forever.

NOVEMBER OF 1999

The world around you is dark as you step outside of cram school, your eyes are tired and your skin is prickled with goosebumps in the chilly air. You despise going to cram school, but your mother told you you have to– since you didn’t have any athletic features that could get you far in life like Sunwoo, you had to be good at studying, or else you won’t get into university. There was a lot of work ahead of you, but since you didn’t really have anything else to do in the day, you didn’t protest and went anyway.

The days are usually very long and you get off very late, resulting in you being tired almost all the time. When you get home, you undress yourself and change into your sleep clothes and doze off until the morning, when you have to wake up and go to school again– it’s an exhausting cycle, but you know you have to endure it for your own sake.

Walking down the steps that lead out the cram school building, you stretch your body and huff, cursing at yourself for the fact that you didn’t bring a jacket– you forgot that evenings get really chilly, and frankly speaking, you didn’t have much time to think when you were rushing to get ready in the morning. You’ll just have to get through it, you think to yourself as you walk in the direction of your house– the last bus to your neighborhood already left an hour ago, when you were in the middle of revising division– your sneakers kicking the stray rocks below your feet as you tug the sleeves of your hoodie lower, desperately trying to feel more heat.

“Do you never watch where you’re going? That’s gonna get you in trouble one day, you know,” you hear a familiar voice say, the joking tone making your heart skip a few beats as you place the owner of the saccharine voice to its face. Looking up, slightly alarmed at being caught in such a distressed state, you gasp.

“I was… watching my step, I guess,” you shrug as you come into a halt in front of him, shivering both under Eric’s gaze and the cold weather at once. “What are you doing here? Deliveries?”

“I just got off,” he says, “so I figured I could stop by. Sunwoo said you’re going to cram school, I thought you might enjoy some company on your way home.”

Gaping at his explanation, you nod, completely startled. The idea of your brother talking about you in front of Eric, the boy you have a very embarrassing, very big crush on scares you, to say the least. See, it doesn’t really matter that the boy grew up with you, pretty much seeing you at your lowest whenever he was around over at your house when you were both just little kids– the image of Sunwoo telling Eric about finding you sobbing at your comic book (the scene got too sad, nobody can really blame you) or about how your favorite jeans ripped right before you had to go to school one morning is terrifying. You don’t really want him to know about these things. He may act like your brother sometimes, but you never really saw him in that light in the first place.

“Well, then,” you clear your throat, “it’s… it’s good to see you,” you say. Eric shows you his boyish grin as your lips utter out the words, and you can’t help but mirror it, your eyes locking with the male. As if you just took a step back, your eyes see him in a light you’ve never seen him before– as if this was your first time meeting your brother’s best friend– and something about the sentiment has your stomach feeling all uneasy, heat rushing to your face. His hair is styled in a way that tells you that he didn’t really style it (or if he did, it looked truly effortless in your eyes, so props to him), pushed back a little and revealing his forehead, a few of the strands carelessly falling into his eyes. His jawline is sharper than how it was when you first met the boy, and with the realization of a foolish teenage girl, you have to admit that Eric Sohn grew up to be a very attractive, attentive man.

“You’re cold?” he says, although the sentence sounds more like a statement rather than a question, before he shakes his head at your antics and heaves out a sigh. “You should’ve taken a jacket with you when you went, you know it gets cold in the evening,” he scolds you. In those times, he reminds you the most of your brother– because although you and Sunwoo act like you hate each other sometimes, you know the older male still cares about you. He just hates showing it, which translates in his scolding tone whenever you do something wrong or against his wishes. 

In those times, Eric reminds you the most of the way your brother treats you, and you somehow hate it. You despise the fact, because that means he must only see you as someone like his younger sister– he never had one, so maybe he just likes to compensate for it by taking care of you all the time. Maybe he feels responsible to do so because of Sunwoo. The thought makes you equally as nauseous– you’d never want him to hang out with you just because he feels like he has to. 

“I didn’t have time in the morning,” you grunt, rolling your eyes at him. You avert your gaze from the male, for it makes you slightly uncomfortable after your previous thoughts, so when the noise of a zipper being pulled down and the weight of fabric on your shoulders brings you back to reality, you snap your head around at him all alarmed. 

“What? Wear it,” he says, head shrugging towards the direction of his jacket on your figure. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t.”

Trying to wrestle out of the red material, you squirm in the hold of the windbreaker– Eric’s hands gripping each side of the jacket, as if predicting your next moves, making sure it stays on you and doesn’t fall down. His strong arms tug you closer to him to make your fight more difficult– and he’s successful with his efforts, because the proximity of him and his smell engulfs you and unarms you, heat rushing to your cheeks as you halt in your movements.

“Stop,” you mourn, “I don’t need it.”

“Yes you do,” he insists, “so stop being a baby about it and wear it.”

Staring into his eyes, as if to mentally tell him to stop what he’s doing– to stop how he’s treating you, how he’s making you all weak in your knees and sleepless at nights because of how much you think of him and hope he’s doing well each day, to stop being so gentle with you and taking care of you, because it brings all sorts of both doubts and delusions into your head– but he doesn’t back down. You’ve known him for quite some time, you should already be aware of just how stubborn he can be.

“Arms in,” he hums, holding on to the jacket and waiting for you to wear it properly. One thing about you– you can always admit your defeat. So, with a sigh, you put your arms through the sleeves of Eric’s red windbreaker, shrinking a little under his firm gaze. He looks at you with a look full of something you can’t decipher, and it’s all making you so, so insanely lost in the many thoughts and feelings swirling around your head, not helping your current state.

“I already have a brother, y’know,” you mumble in a moment of weakness, looking at your feet– your dirty white sneakers almost touching his from how close you are standing right now, “so you should stop treating me like one.”

A moment of silence overtakes you two, and you suddenly feel like you’ve done something wrong. Still, Eric’s hands are holding on to the sides of the opened jacket, keeping you close to him. “Hm?” 

Clearing your throat and shaking your head, you snicker to yourself. “Forget it.”

“No- I mean,” he blurts out, tone of voice a little nervous, “do you see me as your brother figure?” he asks, tone of voice more quiet now, more gentle.

Breathing in the crispy air, taking a moment before you reply, you shake your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “no, I don’t. I- I don’t think I do,” you say, scared of what your answer will bring out of him. You don’t really know why, but at this moment, you feel insanely fragile– as if any bad move could make you break in his hands, waiting for him to glue you back together. 

Metaphorically, he does just that. “Good,” he nods, leaning down towards you, hands gripping the zipper of his jacket and zipping it together, making sure no cold can get to your bones as his fingers tug it up towards the very top, under your chin. “Because I’ve never seen you as my sister either.”

His answer once again startles you– but when you take a step back from the situation, you think it was in a good way. His hands grip your shoulders for a second as his eyes meet yours and he offers you a warm smile. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he says, tugging you towards the fence where you find his bike, his motions guiding you like a rag doll sucked out of all life.

“Hop in,” he motions towards the back of the bike, where the basket would usually be– Eric moved it towards the front, though, leaving enough room for you to sit at– and as you do, he takes a seat in front of you and looks back at you over his shoulder. “Hold on tight so you don’t fall.”

Like in a trance, your arms sneak around his middle– this was the first time you had this kind of physical touch with him, and just the thought of it makes you want to scream your throat out– before the male takes off on the bike, riding towards your neighborhood. With the cold wind slapping your face, you foolishly rest your cheek on his shoulder blade and close your eyes, enjoying the closeness of his body keeping you warm. 

If anyone asked you about the action, you’d tell them you were just tired.

DECEMBER OF 1999

Socked feet make their way through the room, the sound of footsteps resonating on the laminated floor, as the short male comes up to you with a bowl of potato chips in his right hand and a bottle of soda under his left arm. Eric Sohn sighs at you, shaking his head in disbelief, before he places the items onto the coffee table and takes a seat next to you on the floor, opening up the bottle and pouring the three of you drinks.

“Can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you losers, of all people,” Eric snickers, having you roll your eyes at the male and grumpily furrow your eyebrows at his sentence.

“No one’s stopping you if you wanna go, y’know,” you grunt as you take the filled glass off the table, taking a sip of the sweet drink and sighing at him. If he’s gonna take a leap into the new year with you while making you annoyed, he may as well leave now and do whatever his initial plan was– once again, no one’s stopping him if that’s what he wants to do.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “it would’ve been so much more fun if we all went to Juyeon hyung’s. Everyone’s there celebrating, but we’re stuck here in your room.” 

“Well, Eric,” your brother smiles ironically at him, shrugging to himself, “it’s not like it’s my fault you’re not over at Juyeon hyung’s right now. You chose to spend the new years here with me. My mother prohibited me from going there, not yours.”

The argument has the male shrug, his eyes averting your brother’s gaze once his comment gets a bit too honest and realistic. It’s true and he’s right– it’s not like Eric’s mum told him he can’t go celebrate with his friends, because she didn’t. Eric’s mum trusts him and wants him to have fun and do what all the kids his age are doing. Your mum, on the other hand, is making you and Sunwoo stay home for New Year’s Eve to celebrate with your family, because, as she quoted, New Year’s Eve the only time she gets time off work, and she wants to spend it with her kids– forget the fact that you’re currently sitting locked in your room with your friend, protesting the family time just because you can– and when Sunwoo told her she has to stop treating him like a little kid, she told him she has all the right to do so, because he is her kid. And that’s how the party he was supposed to attend with Eric (the party you foolishly thought you’re gonna have to tag along to, not hating the sentiment as much as before now) got canceled from your brother’s plans.

“Well,” Eric chews on the inside of his cheek, “I did it for you two. Be grateful.”

“Whatever,” you hum, “let’s turn on the TV. I bet there’s some variety show on.”

Eric heaves out a sigh as he reaches for the TV remote, clicking the power button and making the boxy device in front of you light up. Your mum got you a TV in your room when you complained about being too bored one November day, and although the box of entertainment didn’t really help like you imagined it to, you’re glad it’s of service at least today. Instead of the expected variety show, though, there’s news on– the face of the old announcer looking at you with a serious look on his face, the professional tone making chills run down your spine, for he reminds you a bit of your mother when she scolds you. You think that’s a common news announcer trait. 

“As the year 2000 approaches, computer programmers realize that computers might not interpret the 00 in the software as 2000, but 1900. The softwares currently running only use a two-digit code for the year, excluding the 19. The data was excluded because the data storage is costly and takes up too much space. Activities that were planned on a daily basis could be damaged or flawed,” the announcer says, making the three of you look at the screen with interest. Maybe it’s true that when you get older, you get more interested in news– you think it’s good to know what’s going on around you, although the topic discussed right now might not even concern you in the slightest.

“Banks, which calculate the interest rates on a daily basis, could face real problems. Interest rates are the amount of money a lender, such as a bank, charges a customer, such as an individual or business, for a loan. Instead of the rate of interest for one day, the computer could calculate a rate of interest for minus almost 100 years!” 

“Oops,” Eric lets out next to you, a reaction so far away from what a real adult would think of the situation. See, you are all just kids, after all.

“Centers of technology, such as power plants, are also threatened by this issue. Power plants depend on routine computer maintenance for safety checks, such as water pressure or radiation levels. Not having the correct date could throw off these calculations and possibly put nearby residents at risk,” the announcer continues, the information coming out of his mouth suddenly making you hyper aware of the reality you’re experiencing right now.

“Do we have a nuclear power plant nearby?” you ask in a hushed whisper, watching as the men next to you almost comically widen their eyes, shrugging.

“I’m not sure,” Sunwoo peeps.

“The worst of all, this software and hardware issue could cause such a big problem in nuclear energy facilities, where nuclear bombs and missiles could be set off, causing the world to go into utter chaos, or worse, an end,” the announcer concludes, the last word making you gasp in terror. 

“An end?” you chirp, sitting up straight in your seat as you look at the two men, now equally as terrified. There’s something in Sunwoo’s gaze that makes chills run down your spine, the reality crushing down on you with heavy measures. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have fought with mum. What if the last words the two of us exchanged before we die are the harsh words I had said yesterday?” your brother mourns, seeing as his best friend chews on his bottom lip, lost in thought.

“What did you say to your mum?”

“That- that I’ll never forgive her for ruining this for me,” he mumbles, his voice breaking at the end, “and… other things,” he adds, the hint of incoming panic making his best friend frantically wave his hands around and try to make your brother relax before he has to deal with the breakdown. If the world is ending, this is not how any of you want to go.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Eric says, clearing his throat and pointing to the TV, “look! The show is on, we should watch before the year ends,” he proposes, taking the remote into his hand and turning the volume up to hopefully drown out Sunwoo’s thoughts and have him focus on something else. And it works– noting that your brother has an attention span of a 5 year old– he can hardly remember what he was worrying about just 30 seconds ago.

Still, the thought keeps bouncing around your head like a child in a bouncy castle. The words of the news anchor keep repeating in your brain, making your ears ring as you look at Eric from the corner of your eye, watching his angelic face. Oh how you hate disturbing the peace now that you’ve all calmed down– but still, you can’t deal with the worries alone. Checking the clock hung above the TV, noticing there’s at least 5 minutes left before midnight, you clear your throat, feeling your whole body on fire.

“Do you really think the world is gonna end?” you ask, cracking your knuckles in a nervous manner. Looking at Eric, pupils shaking, you find your brother’s best friend seemingly lost in thought. The music of the variety show program serves you three as a background sound now, none of you paying attention to the TV anymore, instead, focusing on all the things you've done wrong in your life and how somehow, this feels like karma for all of it.

“I dunno,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I mean- they said it’s possible! It was on the news, and they wouldn’t lie on the news…” he nervously mumbles, scratching the back of his head. 

“That’s what’s worrying me,” you sigh, “we shouldn’t have turned on the TV.”

“It was your idea in the first place!”

“And I’ll carry the burden into my grave,” you admit, gulping as you press a forced smile onto your lips.

Momentarily looking back at the TV, you desperately want to keep the thought of the world being over out of your head before you spend your last minutes on this earth going crazy– but now that you started, you can’t keep thinking about it. “Man, the world can’t end yet. There’s so many things I haven’t tried yet! I’m too young to die!”

The men don't reply to that– you presume they’re too busy trying to find other things to occupy themselves with instead of the inevitable– which has you dissatisfied as you throw your body back into the sofa, heaving out a sigh. Seconds go by painfully slow but also painfully fast at the same time, given the circumstances, as you listen to the cheerful song playing in the background and nudge your friend into his upper arm with your pointer finger, feeling his arm encircle your shoulders and pull you closer to him. The contact of his fingers on your upper arm makes you squirm and break out into a smile, feeling a particular lightness in your stomach at the action, a sensation that has you in shock. 

“I’m gonna talk with mum before we die,” Sunwoo suddenly calls as he stands up from his seat on the floor, sighing to himself, “I can’t go with the thought of her being upset with me,” he sentimentally adds before he’s out of the door, rushing towards the living room.

The space falls into momentary silence now that your brother is gone, having you chew on your bottom lip with nerves. You think now is the time to beg for forgiveness with the higher forces– I'm sorry for not studying well. I'm sorry for being rude and ungrateful towards my mum. I'm sorry for being greedy– when the sound of Eric’s voice resonates through the place as he speaks up again, waking you up from the anxious slumber, the clock now striking 2 minutes before midnight. “What would you wanna do before you die?” he asks.

The question is simple. You presume he wants simple answers– things like getting into college, getting a good job and making a lot of money, growing old– but as you lean away from him and get back to your place on his left, your eyes locked with his, you’re left clueless. There are so many things you have yet to achieve, and the idea of not being able to pushes a burden to your chest, but at this very moment, you can’t really name one. 

Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek as your eyes scan his face. His firm eye contact has you a bit flustered, making you shrivel in your seat, and as the sound of the TV morphs from the song into a countdown from 55, you’re overwhelmed with the thought that your friend is insanely pretty– and he always has been, you just hated admitting it to yourself for the past few months, despite still being fully aware– and that now, when the world ends, you’re dying unkissed and alone.

Well, not completely alone, since Eric’s here. And he’s always been here– your whole life, since you can remember, and he’s here now as well, even though he should’ve been at Juyeon’s house. As the clock strikes 30 seconds away from midnight, your eyes involuntarily travel down to his chapped lips, all air knocked out of your lungs, the thoughts in your brain picking up on speed the closer you come to the end.

You’re dying soon. You’re dying in 30- now 29 seconds, and you’ve never kissed anyone before. You’re dying before you get a chance to hold hands with someone and have a partner, and you’re dying before you get a chance to tell Eric how you feel about him. There’s 28 seconds left until the end and you’re just staring at him like a coward, because you don’t really let yourself indulge in the silly warmth of your heart whenever you’re around your friend, but god, you can at least admit it to yourself before you die.

And as the clock gets closer and closer to midnight, now only giving you 20 seconds before it all ends and a missile lands on the top of your house, blowing up the whole town and making you all disappear, Eric’s question repeats itself in your brain. What would you want to do before you die?

The answer is suddenly painfully clear as you take action– leaning towards the boy on your right, face closer to his than it’s ever been before, your eyes counting all his eyelashes and focusing on his surprised, yet unmoving face– and as you hear the countdown reach 15, you close your eyes and press your lips against his. 

The contact makes you weak in your knees as your hands reach to his face to steady him, your own firework show erupting in your stomach, and suddenly you’re completely content with dying tonight– because at least you’re with Eric, at least you did something. You kiss your friend with something close to an unsaid confession, your lips staying on his throughout the rest of the countdown, the taste of soda you’ve both been drinking the whole evening mixing in the contact of your skin. You’re not sure you’re even doing this right– again, you’ve never kissed anyone before– but it doesn’t matter to you much as you let go of your worries, aware of the fact that in a few seconds, nothing will matter anymore when neither of you are going to be around to say anything to each other after the kiss is over.

The countdown rings in your ears– coming down from 5 as you scoot yourself closer to Eric, 4 as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheekbones, 3 as you still in your movements, 2 as you notice your knees bumping into each other on the ground and finally, 1 as you get ready to die, kissing your first and only love– when the sound of cheers and fireworks from the TV fills your ears instead, the world around you stilling and completely unchanged.

Your kiss started in 1999 and ended in 2000. Your love for him passed a century.

Eyes fluttering open and your mouth letting go of his, the image of the boy with his lips slightly parted, eyes closed and cheeks rosy comes to you in the yellow light of your room, making your heart fall down to your stomach. He looks absolutely angelic, his hair slightly messy and the fabric of his shirt a little disheveled in the front, and even though you’d love to indulge in your foolish desires and kiss him some more, you’re quickly taken aback with the noise of the door to your room opening and making you jump away from Eric, your brother appearing out of thin air in the presence of your room. It serves you like a weird kind of reality check, Eric’s eyes opening and looking at your brother, and even though you two haven’t been caught, the male clears his throat and bites down on his lower lip, looking almost guilty.

Oh no. What have you done?

Suddenly, you feel insanely silly.

JANUARY OF 2000

“You’ve been awfully quiet the whole day,” Sunwoo mumbles from beside you, his whole body engulfed in a pile of snow, “not that I care, but are you okay?”

“I thought you liked it when I don’t talk,” you mutter, playing with the frozen white all around you, seated on the red plastic sled at the top of the hill. You got tired after dragging it up from the bottom, and when you noticed that the rest of Sunwoo’s friends– Eric included– are still on their way up, you figured you could use up the time to relax and sit around for a while. It’s been quite some time since all of Sunwoo’s friends gathered to hang out at the same time, which made you surprised to see that your own brother invited you to tag along with them as they decided to go sledding on the second day of January, using up their break to best of their abilities. Which is also why you didn’t say no to the invitation– you thought sitting at home and moping around wouldn’t help you much.

“I do,” he says, nodding, “that’s why I’m asking what’s up– so I know what to do when I need to shut you up later,” Sunwoo hums, making you roll your eyes at the masked worry.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you scoff. “It’s nothing.”

“Sure,” he shrugs, “so you’re just going through puberty?” he teases, to which you take a handful of snow into your palm and lunge the white at him, satisfaction running through your veins when the snowball lands into his unsuspecting face, the male coughing and swatting his arms around to defend himself.

“Hey!” your brother screams at you once he gets the ice out of his eyes and his mouth, his body jumping into a standing position before he chases you around, the bubble of a laugh escaping your throat for the first time these days– they’re not wrong when they say malicious joy is the best kind of joy.

Running at the top of the hill, not really looking where you’re going– instead looking over your shoulder to see Sunwoo’s actions, preparing yourself to duck if he decides to turn your small quarrel into a snow fight– your legs get tangled with the red sled you left before you started a war with the angered man, a yelp cutting out of your throat as you get prepared to fall over and knock your teeth out.

Your body comes in contact with something half-firm, half-soft, and as your feet slip and the snow-covered ground disappears from below your legs, two arms wrap around your waist and steady you, making sure you don’t get hurt.

Turns out Eric Sohn is there to catch you every time you are about to eat shit. You hate this kind of deja vu.

As you open your eyes (that you had closed on instinct, not wanting to see your own death) once you’re sure you’re safe and sound, the world around you invites itself into your ears in an overwhelming noise. The laughter of Sunwoo’s friends– some hollering at your fall, some at the redness and last remains of snow covering your brother’s face– and the hushed arguments over who’s going down first– with Haknyeon screaming that he’s stealing Sunwoo’s (yours) sled and Juyeon following him. After all those happening in the matter of a few seconds,  you realize you’re left on the top of the hill alone with the male, terror shaking through your insides.

Clearing your throat and taking a step back from him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and avert your gaze from Eric. You two haven’t spoken since you decided to kiss him on New Year’s Eve, and with the awkward tension in the air, you don’t feel like doing so ever again in your whole entire life. 

“Thanks,” still, you hum.

Eric seems a little more light-hearted than you, shrugging as he replies to you. “Haven’t I told you to start watching where you’re going?”

“I’m not good with listening sometimes,” you mutter, huffing. Taking a look around yourself– noticing that there are no sleds left on the top of the hill, therefore, if you wanted to escape the situation, the only way down would be to roll around like a human version of a snowman, you once again admit your defeat, standing around nervously and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

The silence is uncomfortable. It makes you want to dig a hole in the snow and bury yourself alive, to suffocate under the weight of the icy cold and never see Eric’s face again. You know that you ruined whatever friendship you had with the male– by being stupid and foolish, not really thinking about consequences (because there were supposed to be none and you were supposed to be dead), and the weight of the guilt makes you want to puke and hide away. 

Still, Eric comes out of his way to talk to you. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised– he should be disgusted with you. Realistically, he should be the one avoiding you, not the other way around.“They’re gonna take long to walk back up,” he notes, “wanna get hot chocolate with me?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with the overwhelming white of the hill.

“Come on,” he sighs, “it’s just around the corner. They built a hot chocolate stand because they knew kids would come sledding here. Honestly, it’s an astute business tactic, but I promise the hot chocolate actually tastes nice,” he says, nudging you slightly with his arm, as if to make you look at him and change your mind.

“Thanks, but no,” you definitely say, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asks, tone of voice casual– as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if nothing ever happened and he was genuinely curious about the reasoning behind your actions.

“I’m not, I just don’t really like hot chocolate,” you sheepishly mutter, trying hard to avoid the topic.

“So you are avoiding me,” he hums, as if it wasn’t obvious before– and not only because you’re a bad liar. Plus, you love hot chocolate. Somehow, you think Eric knows.

“Look, Eric,” you sigh, running your hand through your hair, “can’t you just drop it?”

“No,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “and that’s why we’re talking about the reason why you’re avoiding me over a cup of hot chocolate. Let’s go.”

His persistence is terribly overwhelming sometimes. You wonder how the male does it. “I already told you-”

“You owe me for the stickers and the meal and everything,” he corners you, and you know you can’t argue with that. He’s kind of right, you suppose– you never paid him back for all the chocolates or for the free meal he brought you that one evening. And that’s exactly why you find yourself sighing as you follow him, mentally preparing yourself for the talk.

You hate how he can always get his way. Walking up to the stand, you crack your knuckles in the pocket of your jacket, nervously coming up with possible arguments to tell him. I didn’t kiss you on purpose, it was an accident. I only did it to know how it feels. We are both supposed to be dead, it’s not my fault the world didn’t end like it was supposed to! Each sentence sounds more stupid than the previous one, and so with that, you shake your head, wiping the thoughts away, smiling at the elderly lady in the stand. You’re just gonna have to be honest, you figure. 

“Two hot chocolates, please.”

Rummaging through your pockets to find your wallet– you do owe Eric, so it’s only natural for you to pay– you’re caught off guard as the male next to you swiftly takes out his own and unzips it, preparing to pay for you. 

“I thought I owed you?” you mumble, hand reaching to tug at his forearm to stop him, to which Eric only grins at you and sighs.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to pay,” he says.

“I think that’s exactly what that means.”

“Just take it,” he huffs as he brings out a note from his wallet, the force making something else fly out and fall to the ground with it, having the boy swiftly crouch down and pick the item up, attempting to hide it before you get a chance to see. And now, you don’t have 20/20 vision, but you recognise your face when you see it– that, and you also recognize the small white sheet to be a polaroid picture, and as far as you’re aware, you’re the only one who has a camera in his circle.

The boy hands you the drink with red-tinted cheeks. The idea of him carrying a picture of you that he took back in September makes you flush as well, and when your gloved fingers accidentally meet as you take the cup from him, he forces out a laugh. “We can talk about that after you tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

His nonchalance has you relaxing only for a few seconds. The boy walks with you as you try to heat up your cold hands on the boiling surface of the cup, and when you see a bench a few meters away from you two, you instinctively take a seat.

“So?” he becomes you, eyebrows rising as he takes a sip from the melted sweetness.

Sighing, you try to come up with the best way to go around this. Do you apologize? Do you promise to never do it again– and you won’t, even though you want to so badly and his lips look surprisingly soft today? Furrowing your brows at the war in your head, you place the cup on the bench next to you and put your head into your hands, hiding away from him when you realize the only way to do this is to be completely, utterly honest.

“I’m just so embarrassed, Eric.”

The only noise meeting your eardrums in the moment is the faint yelling of the crowd sledding in the background, your companion remaining quiet for a bit. When he sees you won’t explain yourself, he goes ahead and asks the question. “Why?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” you sigh, not believing his so casual composure.

“Maybe,” he laughs, the airy sound taking all breath away from your lungs.

Well, not all of it, since you have enough oxygen to go on a tangent, it seems. “Because I kissed you, goddamnit. And- and I don’t even know why I did it, honestly, I’ve never thought of kissing you before! It’s just- when I heard the world is ending, I realized I hadn’t had my first kiss yet, and that just felt like such a miserable way to die, and then you asked what I wanted to do before I die and I couldn’t think of anything else,” you say, progressively taking out your head from your hands and facing the male, big eyes staring into his soul. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t seem mad. Or disgusted. Or any of the reactions you expected, really. Eric stares at you with a soft, but amidst a little star-struck look in his eyes, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of every slight shift in his composure.

“Did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me, or because you thought the world was gonna end?” he asks, awaiting your answer.

And if you’re being honest, 2 days after New Year’s Eve, you do admit the thought of the world actually ending sounds a bit stupid. Why did you even believe that theory? Why did they talk about it so seriously on the news? They tricked you into ruining your own life. 

But still, nothing can be done about it now. “Both,” you admit, shrugging, “I… I kissed you because I really didn’t want to die unkissed, but also… I wanted it to be you, y’know? Like… I thought we were really going to die, and so I thought kissing you might be a nice way to go. I really wanted to spend my last moments with you, I guess,” you sheepishly say, averting your gaze from the male.

Eric offers you his silence again after you’re done explaining. While you do admit you feel a little tense to hear what he has to say, you also realize you feel lighter now that it’s out in the universe and out of your system. A major weight was taken off your shoulders with the confession, and suddenly, you’re kind of glad that your friend was so assertive and insistent on talking about this– who knows how long you’d go before managing to face him. You think you could honestly go on… forever.

Taking a sip of the luscious liquid, you feel your body warm up once the anxiousness slips away from your bones. The boy next to you hums, making you face him with expecting eyes. “Then why were you avoiding me?”

Sighing, you shake your head. “I just told you. I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s bad at listening.”

“No,” he laughs, “that’s still you. Because if you were good at listening, you’d remember me telling you that I’ve never once seen you as my younger sister.”

Shrugging, kicking the pile of snow in front of you with the tip of your winter boots, you’re not quite following. “So?”

“So you should’ve realized that I’m not doing all of this,” he theatrically swings his arms around, “for nothing, you know?”

“All of what?”

“Taking care of you. Feeding you, helping you collect those stupid animal stickers, walking you home…” he mumbles, sighing. “Keeping your picture in my wallet,” he adds with a playful tone, making you smile.

“I thought you were just being a good friend,” you shrug.

“I don’t keep a picture of your brother on me at all times,” he says, tugging off his gloves. The sleeve of his jacket rides up a little as you watch him take his cup of hot chocolate off the bench, surprised (and flooded with warmth) to see the ugly friendship bracelet you made still adorning his wrist.

Grinning to yourself, excitement welcoming itself into the tips of your fingertips, you shrug. “So?” you mirror your own question from a little while ago, wanting him to say it to you instead of relying on your own brain– you think there’s still a possibility of you just being too delusional to see the reality for what it really is. You need to make sure you’re not imagining things.

“So,” he starts, sighing to himself as he turns a little in his seat to face you, “you should stop avoiding me, because I liked the kiss. And you. And we should probably do it again, because I didn’t get the chance to kiss you back the first time,” he says, once again taking all oxygen out of your lungs with the casualty of his preposition.

Locking his eyes with you, having you two staring at each other like two rays of sunshine warming up the cold January, he grins. “How does that sound?”

“Good,” you breathe out, “very good.”

The male takes it as an invitation as he scoots himself closer to you on the bench, his body turning a bit to face you. His free hand cups your cheek, leaning closer to lock his lips with you like he asked you to, your eyes fluttering close at the proximity, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach already expecting to kiss him again. The situation feels a little too idyllic to be real, though– you should’ve expected it to get ruined again.

Something cold and wet comes into contact with the side of your face, and when you sharply open your eyes, you see Eric staring at you with shock and terror in his eyes, the snow dripping down the side of his face as well. Whoever threw the snowball has good aim, you think– managing to target two people at once (even though your faces were that close to each other that it probably wasn’t even that hard), and before you get a chance to look around and see who cut off your kiss, there’s a scream coming from the left side of the two of you, the sound of feet quickly darting in the snow landing into your ears.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” the voice hollers, and before you get a chance to react, the said male fastly stands up from the bench and runs to the other direction, laughter resonating all throughout the place as Sunwoo and his friends chase their shortest friend down.

Snow starts falling as you watch your brother tail his childhood friend, and with a foreign sense of warmth, you get reminded of the birthday wish you made while blowing out the candles on your seventh birthday.

You wished for someone just like Eric. You didn’t know the universe would be so kind to give you him instead.

[aannonn]

★ ─。colorful text , strong colors , bold text , brief mention of suicide , implied/referenced grief , swearing

okay i know we are all excited about the actual short that just came out but let me ramble a bit about Red cause im getting emotional about this stick ... ( before my motivation to type all of this ends and i dont feel emotional anymore lol )

Red in season 3 went through so much istg ;; not only did he and Sec went through a very tense (and needed) fight which almost caused the end of their friendship (+ Sec was clearly in the winning side here, or Red was just really terrified of her at that moment given to how he tried to run away from her - of which i will probably talk about it in a later post maybe), but he was also really fucking tormented in monster school (i felt so bad for him in this episode i legit wanted to cry)

+ after all of this fiasco he really went ahead and carried this thing (of which, given to how he hit it on the ground and it made a soft thump, it must have been heavy asf) all the way to the other side and??? fucking smashed King's chin which made him fly to so fucking far ;; which means he literally used all of his strenght to carry this staff, and dropkick King with it, even if it was so hard he almost even dropped it at first

AND THEN HE JUST. PROCEEDS TO PASS OUT ON THE FLOOR CAUSE HES SO FRICKING TIRED AND EXHAUSTED AAWRGHWS

there are also other moments where i think he really deserves a break tbh ;;

he lost a pet. i have a pet myself and just the thought of ever losing him hurts so fucking much to the point i can feel my oof'ing urges coming back.

;; granted; it was a minecraft pig and it was high with all the potions, and also tried to kill all of them, but he clearly atleast had some care for that pig ... (the fact that he immediately stood up and spawned another animal makes me think about that one post/tiktok (i dont remember the user) i've seen ; which talked about Red possibly hiding/bottling up his sadness from others , in order to stay happy and positive or because he doesn't think his struggles are important enough compared to the others' - which i think it make alot of sense since you rarely see him cry or something, just going numb and/or looking down in despair - the only ever time we ever saw him cry was when Green supposedly died.)

i haven't talked about this actual short before since i had no desire to , but damn bro the way i felt bad for Red in this(っ °Д °;)っ he just wanted to have red stuff for him aswell, since apparently it wasn't dropping for him for some reason???? okay he should have included green and blue stuff aswell instead of possibly removing them but. still. Green and Blue were so fricking wrong in this

and !! his and Sec's tense relationship in the past seasons ... i love Sec he's literally my fav out of them all but i cannot defend xem on this. i know she had her reasons and im not saying Red was in the right either but, gosh ... pretty ironic given he's the one who inspired xem to break in in their site and join them in their battle

... i dont even need to explain do i

he lost a pet ... again. and because of his own fault aswell ! he knew the possible dangers of fusing the command block and the staff together , given how he almost got possessed alongside his friends the first time something like this happened , and yet ... he did it anyway . and beeper died as a consequence . i cant imagine how much guilt he must have felt .. (probably one of the main reasons why he didnt put up a fight when they put him in the timeout box)

i think he wanted to cry at this scene ngl ,,,

thinking about this ; they are all really tragic characters tbh ,,, stepping away from the heavy angsty all of c!Alan's stickfigures go through , rygb goes through a lot of shit aswell , and tbh i just feel bad for all of them ; they are all such tragic characters that deserve a very well-needed break break/_ \

since we are in this topic aswell , i would like to mention how i really love Blue and his immediate rush in being a comfort for the others<3

i used to think Yellow was the therapist friend but we only ever saw him comfort Blue lolll ( i love him anyway ;; i think Blue is more of a therapist friend than he is though )

[aerospectrum]

hey I LOVE your writing! Have you thought about writing more about Kayce and Jamie? I feel like they have such an unexplored dinamic on the show. Of all the family relationships theirs is the one with most love and understanding even though they are kinda distant. I also think about how close Jamei and Lee must have been, because they were the ones that really stayed at the ranch (well, Jamie left for college but came back). I have this headcanon that Lee was probably gay and that’s why he never got married. I imagine that he and Jamie would be kinda of confidents, you know?

AHHH that is so kind to say and means so much, thank you so much I am so happy you enjoy my writing I get so anxious somedays, thank you my dude! I know I'm gonna ramble so I'm going to save dash sanity and bring in the readmore!

I would love the opportunity to write more about Kayce and Jamie, I do write them on a few ao3 stories and I love getting to explore their relationship through those stories! I recently got the opportunity to start writing with a multi who writes Kayce and it has been so fun and so great! I love their interpretation and embodiment of him it feels so real and just good man, I have been itching to write with a Kayce for so long so it feels so satisfying and makes me happy. He just has such a cool dynamic for a character, I love it.

I think Jamie and Kayce have a unique bond where Kayce just doesn't give a fuck what the rest of the Dutton family thinks, to him, Jamie is family whether there's shared blood or not. There's that brotherly loyalty and there's this scene where Jamie breaks the glass in the kitchen and starts to scream that he hates John and Kayce catches him in this hug and just like wraps him up and cradles his head and I'm always so caught off-guard by how loving that gesture is. To see your older brother be so discarded and manipulated by the rest of the family for his whole life and then to catch him when he does break, it's so intimately heart-shattering!

The one thing I'd love to change about their relationship aside from the unexplored and unfair distance is this; I think when Jamie finds out it's Garrett behind everything that happens to the ranch and his family I feel like out of all of them he would've told Kayce and I know trauma fucks us all differently, but I think he would've broken down and been like "this was my fault kayce... my father did this to you- he tried to kill your wife and son and it's my fault and I don't know what that makes us... you and me, I don't know if that makes you want to kill me because-- I'm part him and always will be...i'm... i love you, but im sorry, I'm sorry I caused this." because I think if anything kayce would've reassured Jamie "No, you're not any of him at all you didn't cause this, you're my brother and I love you and I'll fix this for you." I hated that Jamie didn't tell Kayce what happened when he found out Garrett had orchestrated the attacks. because Kayce would've understood and he would've given Jamie the clarity and assurance that he wouldn't let John and Beth blame him for it. he would've fought to defend Jamie against them both.

i think I hate Taylor Sheridans force narrative that only blood makes someone family and that jamie being adopted makes him this automatic villain to the family who's innately evil just cuz of who his birth parent was. it's just shitty and spiteful writing imo, but also because personally i'm adopted and my birth dad ain't shit.. but i'm making something of myself even if my adoptive dad doesn't always see me how i wanna be seen as the middle son. I guess I've got some personal trauma of my own tied to these characters lol.

I love that interpretation you have of Lee and Jamie being closest since they both came back or stayed at the ranch, also I am fully here for that headcanon!! I love Lee so much and I'm angry with how they forgot about him after his death. I wanted so much more of him in the show he brought a clarity to the entire family and I miss him aaaahhh justice for the dutton siblings! But I agree I think him and Jamie would've been confidants in that. I love the scenes they had with the guys at the river and the bond they all shared. I loved that Jamie was just so excited to hang out with his brothers again and even him listening to Kayce and Lee argue he was just so happy to be there with them and we all deserved more of that lol.

I think Jamie and Lee shared a bond unlike the rest especially since Lee would've been old enough to know his mother wasn't pregnant and that they brought Jamie home to meet him... I think he would've been a big defender of Jamie growing up and made sure he had a voice in the world for sure. And Jamie knowing Lee was gay and that's why he hadn't married makes so much sense. Just the weight that comes from that in the way they all were raised and the mindsets that they grew up around just makes so much sense- I feel like it's the same for Jamie but beth makes so many harsh remarks about Jamie's sexuality all the time that I don't know if Jamie would've shared the full depth of himself with Lee just out of fear that Beth would overhear and use it against him. So I think he lives with that regret a bit after Lee's death as well. AAAAHHHH I want to write with a Lee so badly I neeeeed to. The dutton siblings have all intrinsically rewired my brain and mutated my dna, i fear there is no recovery lol.

Sorry this go super long and had no end in sight, but I love these kinds of questions and ideas and back and forth headcanon talks, it's my favorite thing thank you so much for sending this in and sharing your thoughts on the guys too, this was so awesome! thank you!

[loveabledirtbag]

1.03 - brigade

what a chill opening. we learn carmy owns a coat, AND a hat? not just a white shirt and black pants. that’s what we call character growth, gang.

it’s amazing how in episode one we see the back of mikey’s head, in episode three we hear him say “let it rip, buddy”, and when he is finally revealed later on in the season i had NO idea it was gonna be who it was (more on that later). and now every rewatch when i hear him talk, or we see the back of his head i go “how could i not realize who the actor was playing mikey before it was revealed?”

i had NO idea that was molly ringwald at al-anon for the longest time. but i saw her name in the credits and had to think hard about who it could be! it was honestly like, “well….the only character who even remotely looks kinda like her would be the woman who spoke at the al-anon meeting, but there’s no way….right???” and then i googled it. yeah. that’s molly ringwald! this show does cameos so well. joel mchale last episode, now molly ringwald. so good.

i think it’s really good writing that when carmy attends al-anon for the first time, molly ringwald (i’m sure her character has a name, but i don’t know what it is) talks about “keeping my side of the street clean”, and that inspires carmy to implement it in his own “life”, his life being the shop. however, he doesn’t have the skills, the practice, the knowledge or anything to know how to implement “keeping you side of the street clean”. so he does the best he can with what he has: kitchen systems. which to him means implementing a french brigade. i also love that in the long run doing that DOES actually help the shop, but at the end of this episode we’re kinda shown that it’s a totally shitshow flop.

“remove myself from any situation that is, or could become, toxic”…well, someone’s never worked in the service industry. and i think that’s probably the point? because to me that’s the bigger point being made in her speech, but carmy’s whole life right now is the restaurant, and the restaurant is a toxic situation, and carmy can’t remove himself from his whole life. so he chooses to focus on keeping his side of the street clean instead.

the hard cut to “remove myself from anything toxic” to what is, arguably, the most tense scene of the whole show until episode seven, is very well done. and so poignant. we go from “remove yourself from anything toxic” to jumping RIGHT INTO an extremely toxic situation: richie and sydney screaming at each other, a line out the door, people not doing their job right, the whole works.

also, i don’t want to anger any sydney stans. but i think it’s strange how many people i’ve seen saying that sydney is always perfect, and carmy is always an angry monster. because here is sydney just absolutely making the situation worse by meeting richie at his asshole level. he’s yelling at her, and she’s yelling right back. she’s actively NOT helping. in fact, carmy is the one trying to mediate, and trying to calm everyone down. i’m not trying to shit on sydney! i love sydney. but i’m pointing out that this show is very good at making everyone human. everyone is nuanced. everyone is at fault at one time or another and no one is perfect. im also not defending carmy for every instance. he makes mistakes. REPEATEDLY. but he doesn’t only make mistakes. here is a scene where carmy is trying to do it right, and sydney is at fault. obviously i haven’t even mentioned richie, but that’s because of course richie is at fault. it’s richie. the louder richie is is equal to how wrong he is in any given moment.

the man with the sysco hats orders 2 dogs with everything on them, and richie says “$5.25”…i mean, i know a dog isn’t the most expensive thing in the world, but damn. it’s not exactly a mystery why they were having money problems…i looked up a chicago style hot dog place near me and one dog is $6.25

oh damn, carmy at home, and he’s wearing a black t-shirt! so much character growth! we’re learning carmy owns other clothes!

i think it’s strange in the scene where we see carmy not able to sleep, and so he goes into the restaurant early. because manny, angel, and marcus are already there, but marcus asks “what are you doing here so early?”. that’s not necessarily the most weird thing in the world, bakers are usually the first in at a place, because dough and baking in general takes a lot of time. manny and angel could also be there early to wash dishes. typically dish washers work the hardest in a kitchen. but it is strange because this early into the shift how many dishes are there for them to do? if it’s only marcus getting his prep ready, i don’t think the shop needs to be paying for two dishwashers to wash the few dishes marcus would be making. keep in mind that the beef also only has two dishwashers when they are going through a wild and hectic dinner rush. i find it more believable that they’d need two dishwashers for a dinner rush (professional dishwashers are some of the most skilled dish cleaners you’ll ever meet. they’ll clean shit so fucking fast it’ll blow your mind) more than i believe they need two dishwashers right away in the morning when it’s just marcus prepping dough for sandwich bread. but that’s not even the weird part! marcus wonders why carmy is there early, but then sydney just happens to also be there. she’s just getting in, but she’s at the shop too and no one thinks its weird she’s there so early. and then just a few minutes later ebra is also there. if so many cooks are at the beef right away in the morning, why is it weird that carmy is there? we already know carmy is obsessed with the place and spends all his time there. and he’s also the one who is supposed to be directing everyone in their cooking, as well as helping with prep and cooking himself. so why is it strange that he’s there so early? i assume it is just the writers trying to let us the audience know that he couldn’t sleep?

i do love the sort of inspirational talk carmy and marcus have. where carmy is trying not to be triggered by thoughts of his past restaurant while looking at all the dishes he used to make, as he tells marcus stories, and as marcus is being inspired by them.

not that i’m the most knowledgeable person on cooking and kitchens, my time has been pretty limited, but TWELVE PEOPLE??? i’ve never heard of a dish that takes twelve people to make. by my best estimates with carmy explaining how to make the dish he only mentions maybe 6 people: the two chefs cooking down the plum wine. the person(s) cooking the plum consommé. which carmy says takes hours, so let’s just say it takes two shifts which means two chefs. the chef making the compressed plums. and then maybe a different chef who takes the consommé and makes it into the gelée. idk how you take six chefs and make that into twelve, but DAMN

carmy talks about these compressed plums cut into perfect squares, but there’s no square plums in the picture. which is so confusing to me. i’ve thought about this forever. i hate how much time this has taken up in my life. the plums are circular in the picture, but carmy says squares. why didn’t they write it differently? they had to have had the reference photo for the dish, right?

i like to think that the chef who cracked the plum gelée was luca from copenhagen. but as carmy tells the story we’re only getting flashbacks to his shop in new york, and we don’t have any evidence that luca worked with carmy in new york.

i’m glad that the show addressed being a woman in the kitchen. i know that being a woman in the service industry is getting better, BUT there’s still so much work and progress that needs to be made. obviously. and so we have two women in the beefs kitchen and one has learned how to be as tough as nails (tina) and the other has proved herself with talent, and is insistent that she doesn’t need any help with anything (syd).

it’s also poignant, because sydney is tiny and marcus is a giant with a golden retriever soul, and he just wants to help without even thinking of the fact that sydney is a woman. that’s obviously not an excuse, but i really believe marcus is just puppy-dogging his way forward and is just like “can i help? that thing is three feet above your head, but it’s at my eye line so i can grab it!” and sydney struggling with all her might is like “nah! i got it!” even though she clearly doesn’t got it.

the continuation of the tomato mystery!!! mikey was buying tiny little cans? even though the bigger cans are cheaper per ounce? whatta mysteryyyyyyyyyy????? (more on that later)

the short back and forth between carmy and ebra *chefs kiss*! again, ebra is criminally underused! even more so in season two (more on THAT later). but “english carmen!” “the more i understand about michael, the less i understand. rest in peace, young man” “who cares? we don’t use tomatoes anyway”. there’s nothing abundantly funny in the lines, but ebra’s delivery is just PERFECT

the conversation between carmy and sydney, specifically the conversation continually being interrupted, is just spot on. i don’t think i had a single meeting or important conversation with someone when i worked service industry that wasn’t continually interrupted by a million things. seriously, gang….management in service industry is just a fucking lot.

i think carmy’s idea makes a lot of sense, and also has some context to it. even in episode one carmy says he wants to start defining roles in the shop. i get sydney’s hesitancy because of her history in restaurants, and carmy does a bad job explaining his reasoning behind it. but if you’re dealing with a chaotic shit show, isn’t part of the answer introducing some order?

THAT BEING SAID: the moment sydney agrees to running the kitchen in this new system and carmy says let’s go is SO SHITTY. it might be one of the worst things carmy does in the whole show. reordering an entire restaurants workflow, when some of the staff have been there for DECADES, and putting the responsibility on the newest hire, and then telling her the moment she agrees that it’s gonna happen that instant and she’s going to be running the meeting where is being announced...it’s stupidity to the utmost extreme. i know carmy isn’t trying to be shitty, but FUCK dude. that is SHITTY.

“yo, carm the phone ringing” ….no shit marcus. it’s been ringing all morning, in carmy’s office. where carmy just came from. again, it’s probably a writers technique to show us that the phone ringing is something that we should have on our mind, because this shows sound design is very intentional, and it’s possible we could subconsciously think that the phone ringing is only meant to add to the chaotic sounds of the shop. but when thought of practically…carmy can probably hear the phone marcus.

once again, carmy talking about harnessing their gifts, organizing the special thing the whole team has. in my opinion he is coming from a place of respect, and love for these people (many of whom he has known for years) and wants to give them a chance that life has denied them because he knows they can rise to the occasion if given the chance. but i can also see where people could argue carmy is white-savioring, or “my fair lady”-ing, or some other toxic thing. but i do think carmy is going about this with the right intentions, and not as “i’m better than these peasants, they need my help”

what a weak pun by richie. escoffier/scoffi-gay. weak. i mean, yea, also homophobic and offensive. but what a crime to name puns. come on richie.

i wonder if it means anything that as richie makes the joke, the camera is on angel and he looks sort of annoyed and displeased at richie. we’re two seasons in without knowing much about angel, it could just be a camera cut to make the scene more interesting and dynamic, but for some reason angel is looking at richie and he doesn’t look happy

“i was in a brigade once” “what happened?” “many people died” GOD, EBRA! so funny! but also, fuck, that’s tragic dude! but then carmy’s “…o-okay, this is gonna be different”. is delivered so well. just the air of “i didn’t think i’d have to be telling people that a french cooking brigade would be different than a somalian army brigade…”

“like hierarchy!” “more like a regular chill-archy…” syd is so awkward, and this is one of those scenes where you close your eyes and groan because you wish she was anything but awkward. the writing, the acting. god, so good!

“i’m the sous, right? which means i just follow orders even if it leads to tension, and chaos and resentment and ultimately doesn’t work. but yeah, that’s what i do.” is SO GOOD. if any good person has ever been in a management position before, they KNOW that’s the eternal power struggle between owners and staff. and is also why i think the service industry desperately needs to unionize. because far, far, far too often managers have to voice something from ownership that fucks over the staff because part of their job is just to do as they are told, much like how staffs job is to follow orders from management. and it sucks! and if a good person is not careful, they follow orders and ignore their conscious and walk right off a cliff and suddenly they’re in a viral video talking to camera’s about how their staff deserve to work minimum wage without being allowed bathroom breaks for 12 hour shifts and how child labor laws are ruining this country, all because they’re just doing what the owners are saying and they forget that they’re in charge of actual human beings.

“chef de partie?” “yes” “…i accept!” GOD EBRA!!! i would die for ebra.

i love with the camerawork that from richies face we know something isn’t quite on the level with niko. we don’t know what (yet) but his face says “damnit niko, why are you calling? don’t mess this up for me and get me in trouble.” that’s added to by the subtle “i’ll hit him” from richie. he means “i’ll hit him back” as in “i’ll get back in touch with him and talk” but by cutting out the “back” it sounds a little more threatening: “i’ll hit him”, “i’ll punch him, because he’s gonna get me in trouble.”

also, it’s so beautiful and sad that carmy can’t see richie’s face. because he says that it felt like mikey was alive for a second. and richie looks like “i know exactly what you mean” but richie also looks like he’s saying “i can’t deal with that right now; because i’m barely holding on myself, so i can’t carry you too.” so richie says “no thanks” and carmy is just left to believe richie doesn’t care about him. just more assholery from richie. but we the audience know, oh, richie is broken.

i think the show does a decent job of showing anxiety and panic this season. BUT i think they go above and beyond in season two. the ringing and grabbing his heart is good, but season two really helps channel the anxiety

peep the crisp white sneakers on carmy’s feet as he walks into the church for al-anon. i know jeremy allen white is a sneaker boy, and i wonder if those shoes are just jeremy’s, or if they also wanted to give carmy some sick sneaks to go along with his denim love

quick peep at syd’s japanese knife. much like carmy’s japenese knives. i don’t know if anyone reading this knows about different countries knife philosophies and how their knives are designed to suit that philosophy (maybe philosophy is too strong a word…), but it’s interesting that carmy and sydney share a similar knife

ah, hiding in the walk-in because you need a moment to yourself to stop yourself from crying. i miss it and also don’t miss it. you know? maybe that’s ptsd? the scene is all the better because syd goes into the walk-in talking to the team with the most empty cadence a person can have. she’s saying what she’s supposed to be saying but she doesn’t believe a word of it herself. which also means the team doesn’t believe a word she says

ok. there’s very few good things to say about tina up to this point, which is probably why i haven’t talked about her much. but the fact that she clearly has so much beef with syd, but still she goes into shop-mom mode the moment sydney gets a cut. i just love it. every shop has a shop-mom and every shop needs a shop mom. tina is one of my favorite characters, of all time, and her journey is so well done this season.

and of course sydney doesn’t help anything by getting defensive and once again trying to prove how good and tough she is, instead of just accepting the care and help she needs.

and….of coooourse tina goes from trying to help sydney to then immediately turning the heat up on her stock and sabotaging her. because tina might be the shop mom, but sydney is annoying her, and trying to change everything, and so shop mom goes mama bear on her and fucks with her.

sloppiest “assumed” drug deal ever between richie and niko. like they’re looking around and trying not to get caught and somehow they miss that carmy is RIGHT THERE

here again with syd’s burnt stock, carmy is a little bit of an asshole. obviously we think he’s being more of an asshole than he is, because we know sydney is having a hard time being the sous in the shop with everyone against her, but carmy doesn’t. to carmy, he put the only highly skilled chef in charge while he left, and he gets back and no one is doing what they should AND sydney is (seemingly) making rookie mistakes which she should know better than to make. so he does get a little angry at her, and even from his prospective he could have been less intense, BUT from his view it’s like “how did you mess this up? this is cooking 101”.

again too, when sydney’s trying to explain that tina should be on onions, but tina’s on lemons and carmy just wants her to say “yes, chef” and do the onions…i have mixed feelings on. because, once again, we the audience know that carmy is being an asshole and not helping sydney’s already shitty day. but carmy doesn’t know about sydney’s shitty day (which is also his fault), and to his credit sydney trying to explain that she has tried to get tina to what she’s been told and tina isn’t listening sounds a lot more like whining than explaining. there are times and places, and right after being scolded for burning your stock is not the time to try and explain that the real problem is actually not you, but tina. is carmy ultimately way in the wrong? yeah! but he’s asking syd to say “yes” and in the moment she should have just said “yes”. your bosses makes mistakes, and when they’re telling you something, it’s not the best time to show that they’re wrong and you’re right. sometimes you just gotta say yes, and hate them in your head. and if they’re a good boss (like carmy is) you then go and talk to them when things are calmer. they have that moment later in the episode when things are calmer.

i’m not trying to say that people just have to put up with angry shit from their bosses…but in a moment of stress, ESPECIALLY when you’re in the service industry, sometimes you just gotta nod your head, take whatever they say, and curse them in your head. because in a heated and hectic moment in a shop, you’re not gonna convince them of the nuanced issues going on. that has to come later when things calm down and they have a clear head.

knowing that the hands that are prepping the food are actually syd’s and carmy’s hands (i know the actors have names, i’m sticking with syd and carmy) never ceases to amaze me. especially in the scene where syd preps the onions, because you can really tell she got skilled at it. with carmy they cut back and forth and so they can make us think he’s moving faster than he is, but they had a long shot of sydney just cutting, and she was zooming through. (the gif below is carmy because i was struggling to find a gif of syd cutting)

i always wanna know why the suqaar isn’t good? like, it’s so bad that sydney is near revolted. because ebra says it with such pride and confidence, carmy seems excited by it. but then when sydney tries it she’s so disgusted. was it actually that bad? or was sydney just in such a bad place that nothing could taste good?

those lowboys are SO gross. i have nothing else to say, really. just real bad.

it’s rather unprofessional that when “someone” took sydney’s onions she bursts out of the kitchen to the front of house, WHILE richie is hanging out and talking to a customer, to yell at him asking where her onions are. richie is working. obviously hanging out with customers might not seem much like working, but that’s front of house (FOH) shit right there. and to yell in front of a customer (which she and richie have been doing a lot in this episode) is just unprofessional from someone trained in the way of fine dining.

the small detail of syd having her overwhelmingly bad day, and when she goes into carmy’s office he’s just sitting there, and then the first thing he says is “we should be outsourcing bread”, which was 1) in her 30 page packet last episode, and 2) talked about just a few hours ago in the team meeting carmy skipped out on. it would be beyond frustrating. and we know that carmy is actually working, like, the guy stays late to hand scrub the floor, so he’s really working. but it just looks like he’s chilling while syd is running around, and that doesn’t help her boiling rage and panic.

the most painful thing is the world is sydney yelling at marcus about him offering to help her with something again, to the point that her hand is shaking and her eyes are bulging…and then he leaves and she dumps it all over herself. i’ve never been a woman in a male dominated workspace, but i have been someone who really wants to prove themself, and to then have it blow up in my face, especially if it LITERALLY blows up in my face like it does to syd, and the added shame of knowing you wasted a bunch of money (veal fat isn’t free), is stay-awake-at-night-reliving-that-moment kind of painful.

but, it’s also so sweet, and so relatable of marcus to come in after hearing the spill, to sydney standing there covered in her own mistake, and to wordlessly leave and come back with towels and help her. everyone in the world needs a marcus.

that first inkling of seeing HUGE payments to KBL electric! my brain was just like “oh shit, mikey was laundering HARD”

i love the scene where marcus tells syd that family dinner is ready, when syd walks out of frame we stay for just a moment on tina. tina cleaning her station. because to me i think it’s easy to assume, well, she obviously has to clean her station at some point while working, so it’s now. but after having a few back and forth moments with syd in the episode, where syd specifically asked her to clean up, i think it means something that tina is finally cleaning up. and knowing the arc she goes through in the next episode, i think this is like a seed being planted showing us that even tina is slowly being changed by the new system that carmy and syd are implementing in the beef.

i know that this is like the tiniest detail, that has also been talked about SO MUCH by people in the restaurant industry. but carmy drinking out of a plastic container hits to good every time i see it. i’m 29, i haven’t worked in food-food in like 8 years, and i still love using those containers as water glasses. THEY HOLD SO MUCH, plus you get them for free if you order pho from my favorite restaurant (and most restaurants where you’re ordering soup to go) so it’s like an added treat with my pho.

i do think it’s important that carmy can tell something is wrong with syd. only because he’s been so single minded for three whole episodes. missing cues from the people around him about the pain they’re in. i know there’s a lot of discourse on here about if the relationship between syd and carm is moving towards romantic, or showing the depths of a truly deep and trusting friendship/business partnership, either way i don’t care if the writing and performances are good. but it’s important to note that this is the first time carmy has looked outside of himself/the restaurant at someone else and noticed them for real. he went to find syd, and upon seeing her body language asked her what was wrong. obviously, most of what was wrong is because of him, but he still tried to make it better and showed that he’s the kind of boss who actually cares and is trying to create the best working environment for his staff as possible. he’s just human and struggles at doing it.

i’ve read a few people say it’s shitty that carmy admits to being harder on sydney than everyone else in the shop, but i really don’t think so. no one else has gone to school for cooking. no one else but syd can comprehend most of what carmy says or even understand his vision for the place. syd has been at the beef for a few days/weeks/maybe a month or so? and she’s now the number two over people who have been there for decades. so i don’t think it’s outrageous that carmy holds sydney to a higher standard. or is more upset when she sinks to richie’s level to yell at him, or when she isn’t able to properly make a stock. once again, i’m not trying to excuse carmy’s bad behavior, but my first day in a kitchen i was treated with baby gloves, but when i was a supervisor, and in charge of training people in, i would never hear the end if i messed up something simple. because i knew better, and carmy knows that sydney knows better.

i think it’s worth noting that sydney says “i think this place could be so different than the other places we’ve been at.” she says “we’ve been at”. not “i’ve been at.” she’s assuming, and assuming correctly, that carmy has also been in some terrible kitchens. and she’s assuming, and assuming correctly, that carmy is also really tired of it

i think it’s probably only really tv magic that we’re in episode three and sydney feels comfortable to tell carmy that she wants to partner with him in making the beef better, but that he also has to listen to her ideas. that’s a lot of trust in the emotional maturity and headspace of a boss that you haven’t really had any previous emotional connection with. like we haven’t really seen her and carmy connect or have a mutual understanding of the other. we haven’t seen him give syd a reason to think that he wants her to partner with him in improving the beef, or that he’s all that interested in listening to her ideas. HOWEVER this scene works because we know carmy so well already, and we know syd really well, and their chemistry sells it. so she basically says she wants to talk freely with her boss and be heard and listened to and instead of him shutting her down like 90% of bosses would do, he says “you’re absolutely right, and i agree.”

and for her leap of faith, we see carmy open up to her! carmy opened up! he’s trying to work through his gunk! it’s so good!

FUCK BRUNCH

ok. i love brunch. but i hated working brunch. it’s the worst shift in the world.

the scene where carmy comes out of the beef on a break, cigarette hanging from his lip, his hair a particular kind of wild, to listen to sugar’s voicemail…that is the vibe and look i have wanted to replicate from the moment i saw him, and i have no idea how to show the person who cuts my hair because the look is just “sweat and grease” and that’s a hard ask in a salon chair.

i like the flow of learning its michael’s birthday, with us returning to the beach with carmy. because it makes the fact that carmy heard mikey say “let it rip, dude” more powerful. carmy is thinking of mikey on his birthday, carmy’s been thinking of mikey all day, and it’s been nagging at him and weighing on him and everything he has said and done has been because today hurts worse than most other days have.

the question then becomes: timeline-wise, is carmy at the beach the same scene that started the show? we know that only a day has passed, did carmy wake up and go to the beach, and then after work go to the beach again? i’m sure someone with more attention to detail could tell me if the sun is in the same position in both scenes, or if the sun is on the opposite side of the sky in one from the other. but it mirrors the opening so much that it kinda feels like we opened on either the beginning of the day, or the end of the day, and now we’re closing on that same visit to the beach, to remind us of that trip and to put the day into a greater context with mikey’s birthday. if i had to bet, i would bet that both scenes happen at sunrise, because we have a shot of the shop while the dinner rush is happening and it’s dark outside. like past sunset dark. we know they close late, like 10/11pm late. which is far after sunset. so if carmy is walking outside while there is a sliver of light, it’s probably sunrise.

UFFDA, i love this episode. i feel like it slowed way down (except for that one scene during a lunch rush), and amped up both the emotional ante, and the comedy. the next episode to me is like a mid-season finale, because it wraps up some major themes and storylines and opens up some new ones, but we’ll talk more about that in episode four!

Season One: Episode 1 | Episode 2 | Episode 4 | Episode 5 | Episode 6 | Episode 7 | Episode 8 |

[yonemurishiroku]

oooh now im intrigued… what part about percy’s character / actions did you not like? (in response to a previous ask you got)

i never really found anything that i disliked in percy but i did read the books a lot younger than i am now so i def didnt pick up on a lot of things

Hi isa! Before I say anything dumb, I just want you to know that I love you with everything in me and the fact that I left your ask in the mailbox for 7 months and a half does not negate that. I'm an awful terrible human being but my love is real. 🥺🥺

Ok. So. Obviously, I'm trying to justify myself here but like I've spent half a year marinating on this and seriously? this is really hard to tell. Not because I'm scared or anything, but more like I don't know how to word it the right way, and I fear I'd just dig myself a hole (ok, I'm scared).

If you're asking me, what part of Percy's character/actions I didn't like?, well the first and foremost would obviously be that time he strangled Nico. For the obvious reason.

Now, before anyone decides to come up to me with a Percy-defending speech, I'm NOT saying Percy's in the wrong (Well actually yes. They are BOTH wrong and they're BOTH justified - if you were to ask me, but that's another can of worms I don't want to open).

Percy did nothing wrong - no, he didn't - but I just so happen to love Nico di Angelo more than myself. And what Percy did that time displeased me - isa pls understand he hurt my blorbo 😭- of course I wouldn't think highly of him.

And that time Jason thought badly of Nico from hearing Percy's words.

And the fact that he's the reason Nico antagonized himself - which is TOTALLY NOT Percy's fault, I know - but I'm subjective.

(And that time in the birthday message board (wtf Percy?) - but that's new, so we'll just leave it there)

It's all there is about this, actually. The reason I dislike Percy is: I'm subjective, selfish, unreasonable, and hopelessly blinded when it comes to my love for the blorbos - in this case, Nico (and Luke, in some cases...). Did Percy do anything wrong? Debatable. But because Nico is my beloved son, so when it comes down to either Nico or Percy, I would always take Nico's side.

It's more like... a series of actions accumulated throughout the books that brought me to this point of prejudice, I guess... I've forgotten most of them, tbh, it's been a while, so I can hardly come up with specific details that spiked my disinterest. Just little things, I'm sure - but when all is said and done, he's the first character I just know I might as well stay away should I want to preserve my interest in the books themselves.

I'm sorry if this answer doesn't satisfy you, but this is all the coherent thoughts I can form about this... 😭

Another main reason why I can't bring myself to love Percy is, well technically not even his fault.

I don't like his perfection.

No, Percy isn't perfect. I'm talking about how Rick and the fandom tend to... perfect him?

As in: he's too OP. He's the protagonist, of course he's OP. And that's why I usually don't like protagonists. They're too perfect. Everything they do is right. They're praised and loved. Their sufferings were rewarded by glory and adoration. The fandom worships them. They are the best just because they happen to be in the spotlight.

It's like... a cage to me, I think? I prefer the conflictions, the paradox in which I'm free to expand my thoughts in various ways (again, Luke. and Octavian and Jason, for that matter). Percy is too much of a protagonist for me.

Besides, the fandom already loves Percy enough as it is, there's no harm if I don't, right? Is it jealousy? I honestly don't know. I just feel like I should be able to dislike someone just because I feel like it. I'm a creature of love and spite. I can hate just as easily as I love. It's not his fault, still there's no difference.

(Just in case you're wondering, But you do ship Percico? Yes, in fact, I don't hate the ship that much LOL. Pls don't ask why bc I don't know either... There're many times I enjoy Percy's humor, too!! And frankly? I don't know how you can categorize this, but the fact that I have a bunch of Break-Up fics planning to write and none of them is happy should say a lot about my taste for Percico in particular...)

That is to say, I try my best to be respectful when it comes to public fandom space. You would hardly see me badmouth Percy - or any character for that matter - because I tend to stay away from those for whom my tolerance is low. I'd hate it if I have to stir the pot, since I know there're people who love Percy more than themselves, too. There's no need to spoil others' fun.

Please, do understand that I'm NOT saying this to fault you for loving Percy. I'm saying this because I'm selfish, and my selfishness should only be mine to deal with, and that's absolutely NOT your fault nor Percy's fault for being disliked by someone petty like me.

With all due respect, cherish him. Love him the way I have come to love Nico. Because at the end of the day, they're not even real. We're all free to love and free to hate. Let us enjoy what we like best.

(and I'd always love you dear!!!)

[regryrth]

#drdtdevappreciation

Im so proud of how you all as a fandom handled this so well 💙 I know things are still pretty shaky in places and no one can rlly say this problem is “solved” or “forgiven” unless DRDT Dev specifically says so (which I dont mean to say they should or have to comment on anything, I know they mentioned theyre nervous and now uncomfortable interacting which I understand and accept responsibility for) But it really makes me happy to see how for the most part We’re turning something bad into appreciation. So for the fandom here. I appreciate all of you.

Even the ones who mightve gone too far. Just like me u had good or at least non malicious intent. Which turned out bad but there are still ppl who respectfully understand where youre coming from. Maybe its not wanted- But I appreciate and care for you too. I dont know how youre handling this all, But if its anything like how I did, I hope you understand nothing is ur fault just like how people have said it’s not entirely mine and not DRDT Devs. Even if it wasnt the best thing u couldve said in the moment. I understand u didnt want to harass anyone. It was a mistake made cause it’s human to act emotionaly have opinions and want to be understood with that. That can make ppl say and post things online that get deserved back-lash like I did. And the things u say can seriously hurt people like I did. I cant say how anyone else feels with everything thats happened But if Im right about everything so far. Its okay. To me at least which I guess isnt much. Even If u dont feel real remorse- You feel u were justified- But just dont want to be lectured in paregraphs over and over. Thats ok to me too. No one has to be completely justified in how they feel and it would be hyppocritical of me to say u do. And you shouldnt have to be looked at as any worse then the rest of us for stating your mind. Ur a great DRDT fan and person too and no one should claim any different for anyone. So while no one can throw around the word “forgive” for an incident that isnt ours to forgive- I “understand” u.

On a lighter note- The people who defended DRDT Dev without harassing anyone. U all acted so maturely in response to everything I honestly envy u a little. Does maturity and not making mistakes like these come one by one for you? When I make mistakes like this I feel like something with no real sense of right or wrong- Then I mess up and ppl come out to tell me where I went wrong and the “right” thing to do- And I piece together all the life lessons and “right” responses little by little until I feel safe with myself. Like a kintsugi piece. And like the cake in chapter 1! Did u have to do the same? I wonder if everyone experiences this. But thats not so relevant to appreciating you- So thank you for seeing every side. Even mine. Thank you for taking this whole situation and turning it into something good for everyone. We should talk about stuff like this more- While I still wish I hadnt posted that confession Im happy with whats been made of it- Even if the damage was still done. Because disrespecting and dehumanizing creators like DRDT Dev who put themselfs through so much to make wonderful content for us is never ok and to sweep it under the rug Like nothing ever happened is even worse. I know I requested the original post be deleted But Im ok with it being up on other blogs and posts because its important to hold stuff like this accountable and talk about it. And u guys did just that which is why Im so proud and thankful for u. This isnt a Thanksgiving dinner But u all deserve to be appreciated for doing good things too and supporting DRDT Dev.

And that brings me to who I appreciate the most- DRDT Dev. Everyone has said it so perfectly already I cant think of how to say it myself. But theyre so strong for going through all this. With their health. And going through and finding things like what I said. And other things none of us know about because they work to prioritize us over themself. And yet they still dont give up. They still keep going even with everything. They dont have to do this. But they do anyways and we should all appreciate them so much for that. Because sometimes we forget they and there team are human- I forgot that too. Doing things like my confession and taking their work for granted and other things is never ok. Im so happy we can do something to share our appreciation for DRDT, DRDT Dev and their team. Bad things and arguments and DRDT Dev being hurt by me had to happen first. I wish it didnt and that fandoms would give this much love and support to their creators without some incident happening first. But Im happy what happened let us appreciate the dev for there work now. And even if the DRDT Dev doesnt create side content anymore because of this- Its alright. They shouldnt have to push themselves past their boundaries or limits for us cause they already do so much. Even if we dont know much about them- We know enough to say theyre a wonderful person and we all love their content and them so much.

I know a lot of ppl apologized on my behalf and I suppose I wrote a longer apology to DRDT Dev and the fandom. But Ill say again as the anon themself- I am deeply sorry DRDT Dev for what I and others have said and done. I hope that you are well. And that youre able to see our appreciation through these posts.

I love you all 💙

[yestrday]

heyy i hope this isn't too invasive, but seeing ur latest post (the p*dophilia one) made me a little ehhh. whether u were asking the question with genuine curiosity or if ur maybe into that sort of thing and wanted to know peoples' opinions on the topic, i was wondering if you would mind being open about your own opinion on the topic, as well as maybe let your followers know if ur into that kind of genre?

i hope this is clear to understand, but not too pushy or invasive (im sorry if it came off that way!) I'm just not comfortable with that kind of stuff so I would like to know what kind of ppl I'm following. and if ur into that, thats fine, its not rly my business. i just want to be aware of whether ur into that and/or if u ever may write something related to that kind of thing, so I'll at least not be surprised if I ever do see the topic mentioned again on ur blog! (:

tw // p*dophilia, sh*ta/l*licon

no, i'm not into sh*ta/l*licon and have many blogs blocked because of those. i opened that discussion because i was genuinely curious.

you see, i believe that the topics usually involved in yandere works are just as bad as p*dophilia. so i'm also quite puzzled when many people in this community think themselves higher. but a lot of people have discussed in my asks and in the comments section that it's not just about the topics per se, but also the reason why we find ourselves attracted/seeking out those kinds of topics. (There's an answer in my ask that i really, really like and i'm gonna post it soon)

You see, I live and grew up in a community that usually isn't on the side of the minors (if a foreigner is calling on a high school student for 'services', it's the girl's fault, not the adult. i found this absolutely abhorrent). so even if i have negative feelings towards that kind of predatory work, i'm unable to explain it or defend it. but now that a lot of people have explained it to mw, i feel like my stance on the subject has solidified instead of being half-heartedly neutral about these things.

so, no, i'm not into nor do i have any plans. it's unfortunate that it came off that way to you (after all, it's the internet and people are untrustworthy here), but it was all for the sake of genuine curiousity. i cannot apologize for not knowing more about these things, especially when i've been sheltered all my life. the only way to improve myself is gather thoughts from a community who has more experience and knowledge about this and reflecting on it.

[oceanlandworld]

god someday i want to try and more articulately argue Why i think that using personality disorders (and especially cluster b) as self-identifiers + encouraging others to do the same is ultimately harmful even if it feels validating but id need to Prepare Myself for the research i would need to do (ie going into the bpd tags on here lmao)

it largely boils down to "people who hate themselves deserve better than to be told they are biologically and intrinsically irrational, overemotional, and violent" and i dont rly fault those who fall into the bpd blogging hole bc Yeah its easy to accept those things as true when you feel like theyre true

but it makes me sad to see. what i see called bpd symptoms are by and large very human expressions of pain, usually pain thats been repressed and/or dissociated away from for a long time. and when you Already have a shaky sense of identity and struggle with self-assessment then Yeah it makes sense that finding a diagnostic term with a core component of "you have a shaky sense of identity" is validating

but its also kind of. idk. a friend of mine called the construction of the diagnostic criteria "predatory" recently and i honestly agree. like whatever u think of bpd as a label it HAS been historically used specifically to isolate people and mark them as "bad" or "difficult" or "treatment resistant"

just. bleh. im so critical of the "bpd is a core part of my identity and i need to defend it as such" mindset because i had it for years and when i started thinking more of my reactions as dissociative in nature + responses to complex trauma it became easier to forgive myself for them and be curious about rather than ashamed of them

[msookyspooky]

OH MY GOD SPOOKY ‼️‼️‼️‼️ thAT CHAPTER 13?????????? A MASTERPIECE!!!!

The "my girl" partmhjnjjhahhahahhuhuhaha I SWEAR i was brushing my teeth while reading and when my EYES SAW THOSE WORDS I JUST STOPPED??????? i stopped there with toothbrush all over my mouth for a good minutE TRYING TO COMPREGED TAHT!!!!!!!! UHHHHHHHGGGGGG

I have no words to explain how much i loved loved loved that chapter!!!! i have been craving for that reveal since i started reading when you were still posting the part set 1 movie and IT DID!!! NOT!!!!! DISAPOUNT!!!!!! IM SO FUCKING EXITED FOR THE REST OF THE STORY LMAOOO 💞💞💞💞💞💞

SPOILER ALERT FOR CHAPTER 13

Yn, in my opinion at least 👀, def had the chance to play dumb, act as if she didnt knew, act as if they were forcing her to do whatever accusation dewey trew at her. but she didnt‼️‼️‼️‼️ and im just freakibg outtttttt she cares so much that AGAIN she put herswlf in front of Billy. After all the pain that doung that all those years ago brought to her, she did that and didnt even think about it. even after stu literally shot someone in the chest she cares so fucking much that the death of that person donest affect how she feels about him anymore (judy didnt actually dieee but yn doesnt know itt( they didnt need to get try to get jill before she hurt yn, they couldve literally just ran away from the hospital. But the choose to stay‼️‼️‼️ for stu i wont eve.n elaborate because my. Girl. My. Ficking. Girl. Was enough for me lmaooo‼️‼️‼️but billy didnt need to say athing! In fact, it would be better for him if he didnt bc he knew dewey woukd recognize him the second the spotlight was on him. But.he did. He defended yn the second he could. He defended her even if he knew no one would listen to him.

Im 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠 anywaysssss hahaha i love your writing a normal amount............

Alsooo you wrote jill so so well that i wanted to go inside my phone and strangle her myself lmaoo

THANK YOU!!! I LOVE THIS REVIEW OMFG AFGSSG😍💘

Oh YN definitely cares and so do they there's just so much turmoil and difference in morals that it's a rough road but Billy and Stu saving her (To "kill her god knows when" yeah right 😒🙄) And her deciding to follow that moral compass and save Billy before her own ass because it was the 'right thing to do' (mm hmm 🤨😒) is just another layer they didn't know this situation could have!

Fr YN could have played dumb but I ain't gonna lie when I came out of anesthesia I slept SO HARD it was insane I was fucking out of it and barely formed thoughts so I can't imagine some bitch waking me up a few hours after my surgery trying to strangle me THEN trying to make coherent thoughts to justify why Billy is there 😣

And I think as the author writing it (And the girl reading it lol) like...YN is fucking tired.

I mean, her best friend and honestly only true friend died and she found his corpse and has that weighing on her conscience that it's her fault they seperated. Gale was never her friend 100% fake af and YN lowkey knows it. Karla is a friend by being Ray's wife but not on the level her and Randy are.

And other than Dewey; Billy and Stu is all she's got. In one night, she was truly stabbed for the first time not counting her arm or hand. Good and only Friend is dead. She's being framed AGAIN over fame she never wanted to begin with.

Dewey, as much as she loves him platonically, has changed because of that badge and being married to Gale and in Woodsboro (I noticed it from 3 to 4 with Dew to Sid and was shocked tbh) and has done nothing but make YN not trust him with her safety this entire installment.

Stu pointed it out in TT. That he was there no matter what, toxic or not. He knew the worst and best of YN and stayed there for his own selfishness but still for her as well. When Randy and Dewey only knew what YN revealed but she was living a double life that they UNDERSTANDABLY would be hurt and enraged over but Billy and Stu have been known and don't care

ISTG it's why I fuck with enemies to lovers sm bc your enemy sees your worst side, weakest side, you see there's and yet you still fall in love?

I think Billy has never seen these sides of YN and when he did in TT he was in a shit place in his life and still bitter over what she did in Set Up and Sequels Suck.

But Stu? He was in her life from Windsor to Hollywood on and off and got over her betrayal before Billy so it's easier for him.

And I hc Stu as fucking nuts to be blunt. Flys off the handle, impulsive, delusional, arrogant, has little value in peoples lives, doesn't discriminate with killing, sadist, possibly even a bit of a high functioning individual with a form of ASPD or just good old narcissism where he doesn't love like a normal person does so he forced himself into YN's life as a form of control but that doesn't mean he doesn't care for her he just cares for his own self preservation first and always will. While I hc Billy as an introverted guy with fucked up morals and possible hallucinations like his daughter Sam / he's more likely to snap than most people same with his Mom Nancy. But I think he feels love and emotions the same as anyone else he just has trust issues and cynical af.

It's why after so long...I mean, aside from money, Billy got what he wanted. YN is alone, isolated, depressed, anxiety, PTSD, no friends, everyone she cares for is dead or hates her, getting attacked by conspiracy theorists that claim she helped them. And I think he's realizing slowly but surely that maybe her suffering for trying to turn him in while saving him isn't what he wanted after all.

Thank you for the review and listening to me rant I just love these in detailed ones because sometimes you guys see things about the characters I don't even!!♡♡♡

[crashingwavesinmyworld]

I’m not gonna act like I’m perfect and that I’ve never made mistakes or sometimes said hurtful things when upset (who hasn’t though) but I’m tired of being treated like the villain in a situation where I’m the victim and I’m tired of any way i try to defend myself or when I’m just trying to get answers is seen as me having a “BPD meltdown” or “lashing out.”

I have every right to be hurt and angry and sad but I think I’m handling it pretty well regardless??? And I wouldn’t need to constantly defend myself or speak about how hurt I am or any of that if this dickhead had just properly communicated with me in the first place or at the very least didn’t try to paint me as some dangerous crazy person for something that wasn’t my fault and like even if it hadn’t been about me fainting and was about me being depressed/suicidal, once again I was the only one hurting there no one else was getting hurt it doesn’t make me dangerous you ableist fucks and if it was such an issue why did he assure me everything was fine? He blatantly lied to me and so did his girlfriend and I don’t know at this point what was true and what isn’t true and it’s honestly disgusting that she thinks I’m the problem and has been using my BPD as a way to demonize me.

This was all because of her coward boyfriends inability to communicate like a mature adult. But I didn’t even fucking do anything I’ve been trying to move on. All that happened is last night after I finally had felt okay and strong enough to hang out in the food court which I haven’t been able to do cuz I feel like I’m being watched. But then after I came out of the bathroom his girlfriend was sitting outside, she didn’t see me right away and I wanted to say hi but I didn’t cuz of what she’d said a few weeks ago about him not wanting her talking to me and as dumb as it is I wanted to respect that, I went and sat away from her and went back to my music or whatever I was doing.

But then when she did see me she walked away without saying anything. That hurt a lot but what hurts worse is he eventually came out and saw me and walked past me too without saying something, and his girlfriend intentionally parked the car right by where I was sitting so I had to see him get in the car, I tried leaving after this I was gonna go to the grocery store but when I was walking there suddenly he was driving and he was stopped in front of me and he looked at me again and so I turned and went the other way but he ended up parking in a random parking spot by where I was walking and got out of the car for no reason seemingly just to make sure I saw him then when I kept walking he got back in like I feel like he was trying to torture me on purpose. Like who tf does this?

Maybe I’m being paranoid and I know they would deny doing this but it just all felt very intentional. I can’t believe I ever called these people my friends. No matter how many problems I have I wouldn’t have ever done something like this to them. Sometimes I wonder if this is karma for my past mistakes cuz I have said and done a lot of things I regret. I’ve always tried to make things right and apologize and correct my behavior but maybe to the universe that isn’t good enough.

But even then even though it’s not an excuse most things I’ve said or done that have been wrong usually happened when I was hurt first by whoever it was or I saw them treating someone else poorly and that doesn’t make it okay obviously and it’s not an excuse but im just saying I’m not a vindictive person or vicious person purposely out to get people or harm people.

Most of the examples I can think of were several years ago anyway before I even knew these people. And usually if anything I may say something bitchy or mean after being provoked or backed into a corner (usually to my mom more than anyone) but like these people are acting like I was a threat to their safety… I am not this dangerous crazy person they’re making me out to be.

I cared so deeply for them I would have done anything for them and it makes me sick that I could care so much for people that could just so easily hurt me then move on like it’s nothing. I think the differences between me and them is that if I say or do something wrong whether I realizes it at the time or realizes it later I always feel deep regret and always always apologize and try to make it right. Whereas they are blaming me and making it seem like my justified hurt is irrational. Well her and not him because he still hasn’t said a damn word to me. Coward. God just the thought of him makes me sick. I can’t believe I used to think he was the sweetest guy I’d ever met. And that I used to think he was the one guy to treat me with respect despite seeing me at my worst (about 6 years ago) and even recently before all of this he wasn’t treating me any differently everything was fucking fine that’s why I don’t fucking understand!!! And like the fact that he knows too how scared I was of getting hurt and losing people….asshole. He knows I felt so much pain which I was why I went to the hospital which he was so supportive and sweet about but now I’m in worse pain than I was then and he’s nowhere to be found. But that’s the thing I never needed or wanted emotional support from him. I just enjoyed talking to him about books and music. It’s all just so fucked and in sick of it all

[milgramprojectfan]

Sorry for not posting for a bit, life is super weird rn 😭😭 Anyways, i wrote down my immediate reactions and analysis to the second trial mv when i first watched them, so here they are.

SPOILERS FOR THE SECOND TRIAL SONGS FOR MILGRAM

Haruka- Not Forgive- Not entirely sure who he killed (I think it was that girl in the first MV maybe??? Or his mom???) or whatever but he definitely killed a lot of animals, the taxidermied animals in the video. (Dogs, bugs, those fish he obliterated). Also I’m pretty sure he killed all those things to get the attention of his neglectful mother which like…. Isn’t a good course of actions. Also I saw a comment trying to excuse him because he has a disability and like… no??? Disabilities don’t force people to murder??

Yuno- Forgive- Nothing really changed for me. Sure she was being a sugar-baby, but that doesn’t matter that much. Queen tbh. #pro-choice

Futa- Forgive- So it seems like he was pet of an online community who bullied people online. He felt peer pressured (the “pressure, pressure” repeated over and over) into like posting someone for the internet to bash (the girl). All he seemingly did was post her initially, and then a bunch of people just dogpiled on her. Not a nice thing to do, but he had no idea what the result would be. Still unsure why he posted her, like was she having an affair with a teacher or…..???

Muu- Not Forgive- So apparently Muu is not the helpless victim in this situation. Kinda hate myself for thinking that. It seems like she was the Queen Bee of her school, but then her friend group turned on her for some reason. Then they bullied her but nobody helped her with cause she’s a manipulative narcissist. Then she tried to apologize to her victim (purple hair girl, who I also think might’ve exposed her??), but she refused. Then she killed her. Terrible horrible thing to do. Still, she’s pretty young and clearly took a toll on her so i feel bad

Shidou- Forgive- Boring MV tbh. People in the comments say he’s harvesting organs for his dying wife, so let’s go with that. Honestly I kinda get it… but still he’s not as innocent as I once thought.

Mahiru- FORGIVE- SHE DID NOTHING WRONG!! SHE WAS INEXPERIENCED IN LOVE AND THEIR RELATIONSHIP WAS UNHEALTHY BUT SHE WAS IN DENIAL AND THEY WERE BOTH TOXIC AND HE SHOULDVE ENDED THING PERMANENTLY WITH HER INSTEAD OF KILLING HIMSELF!!

Kazui- Not Sure/Leaning to Forgive- I still have no clue what’s happening with him, but apparently he was gay and forcing himself to marry his wife? And then he confessed and she offed herself? If so, then these victims need to get some therapy before taking it to the extreme

Amane- Forgive- Now I know she’s in a cult and was abused by her parents… but I still have no clue what happened with her murder. Whatever it was it was probably not her fault in any case. Probs killed someone in the name of the cult.

Mikoto- Not Forgive- Ok so the DID is confirmed, which kinda annoys me. Anyways, I’ve decided that they are guilty. I can’t quite put it into words but like… John ‘defends’ Mikoto from a random guy on the subway, but what was the guy doing? I doubt he was doing anything that warranted being murdered, but unless the third mv exposed that idk. I don’t want to get into the DID discourse tbh, I know some people are vicious.

Also I know Kotoko’s next song is out, BUT IM WAITING FOR THE MV!!

[not-quite-girl-nor-quite-boy]

A/N so this is a little different from my usual works but I just sorta thought of this one so yeah. Happy holidays everyone, enjoy a Christmas, fluffy, angsty I guess, familial fic.

Have fun <3

"here you go Cass." Dean said handing him a messily wrapped present covered in gold and red shiny wrapping paper with a big bow on the top.

"for Sam?" He asked moving his present filled hand toward Sam.

"no Cass, its for you hun." Dean smiled albeit confusedly. Cass sighed sadly looking at the floor

"I don't understand." He mumbled.

"hey, that's ok Cass, it's your first Christmas, what don't you understand?" Sam asked patiently.

"I thought gifts were given to loved ones." Dean looked at him almost offended.

"hold on." Sam said to dean. "Cass, did you get us gifts?"

"I'm sorry, I see now why you would not want them. I apologise."

"no no no Cass. Ok how do we do this?" Sam asked himself.

"Cass, why would you love us and us not love you? I tell you I love you all the time." Dean said.

"yeah but... Why would you mean it?" Cass asked. "you say it when I say it first. I thought that was just social protocol." He reasoned.

Sam looked at dean shocked and outraged.

"dean! You only say it when he says it first are you kidding me?!" Sam shouted angry.

"yeah well... That doesn't make it less true or constant." He said sheepishly to Sam before turning to Cass. "you know that right?"

"how could he when he only hears it as an echo?" Sam said. He was defending Cass with avengance.

"hold on." Dean mumbled eyebrows furrowed.

"no I'm not done yelling at you yet!" He said.

"no no seriously. Stop." Dean said.

"did you say why would that be true?"

"well... Yeah." Cass mumbled.

"why?" Dean said.

"well. I'm a broken angel dean. Why would you love me? What is there to love?" cass asked genuinely, that was what really shook dean, Cass truly believed what he was saying to him, he thought himself unlovable because he wasn't what he once was.

"shut up cass." dean said.

"i-im sorry." he said looking down.

sam watched the conversation develop quietly.

"you should be.-"

"Dean-" sam started.

"how dare you. how could you possibly see yourself that way?! i love you cass! i love you so much. i dont care about that. when you were a real angel or whatever the hell you wanna call it you were a dick! i didnt love you until you started caring, until you had and expressed the emotions you were previously punished for feeling. Cass we love you so much. i love you so much. how could you possibly think we wouldnt love you. how could you think that. i am so totally in love with you cass. everything i am is thanks to you. not because you saved me from hell but because you save us, you help us, you heal us, and you heal the people i love. i dont love you out of gratitude cass, i love you becuase even wehn it ends badly you try to help people no matter what and if it ends worse off you hate yourself, you feel the guilt even when it isnt your fault. when something bad happens that knowledge kills you. like, do you rmeber when i got sick and you were human and you stayed up for almost a week taking care of me and you hated yourself for not being able to heal me?" Cass nodded slightly, "do you remember when i jumped into a hunt the second i could and ended up having to catch you when you passed out from exhaustion, dehydration, starvation because you thought that you didnt matter if you couldnt help others?" cass nodded again. "do you remeber what i said to you when you woke up?"

cass nodded again before saying, "you said that it didint matter who else was in trouble, it didnt matter that i wasnt an angel because you needed me and that you loved me. you said that i couldnt help anyone if i didnt take care of myself because id end up dead and that if that happened you wouldnt know what to do with yourself." cass finished.

"and thats why i love you, because you would blow up the very ground you stand on to make something right, you would put the life of a caterpiller before your own. i love you because no matter what happens you prioritise others and no matter what happens you never stop lovong the little things."

"and its a good thing too other wise dean would never get any action." sam joked.

"Sam! get out, im busy!" he commanded, its a good thing sam was already leaving because he was too busy laughing at himself to hear him.

"ignoring sams untrue and incorrect comment cass, i love you. do you understand?" dean asked. scootching towards cass who nodded. "I love you too." he said before wrapping him in a tight hug, cass didnt really like kissing, hugs he loved and sex he didnt ming but kissing was too strange, he couldnt stand the feeling of someone slese toung in his mouth, said it felt like worms, so dean kissed him on the forehead or on the mouth without tounge, if it made cass happy he was more than happy to comply. but cass knew he was loved and that was what he needed to hear.

"so what did you get me anyway?" he asked.

"oh cass, youre gonna love it." dean said as he handed it over. cass unpeeled the gold and crimson paper his smile positively beamed. “Merry Christmas!”

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" cass screamed, dean smiled and sam came in running.

"What is it? What happened?" he asked. he looked at cass with the bee themed pj jumpsuit slippers, eyemask and photo frame unwrapped in his lap.

"So you like it?" dean asked.

cass rushed over to dean and hugged him so hard dean had to check his ribs. he chuckled at his verocity.

"my god i love you."

So yeah. Enjoy. Just thought it would be interesting and it kinda makes sense to me that cass would have a terrible family sense given that the angels were really aggressive and not exactly loving, so yeah. Any thoughts? Let me know :)

Send me prompts please. I have no inspiration :)

[navire190413]

spent pretty much the entire weekend with x-chan again. we went out to eat cheap yakiniku on friday night then went to our usual bar. he invited me to stay the night and play video games so i did. we didnt shower together or kiss or cuddle or anything. it was just like we were friends hanging out. hahah but oh, there's a reason for that. we got in a massive argument the night before and earlier that day.

i messaged him in japanese asking why hes so nice and loving towards me when we're together, but so cold and doesnt want to message me or call me a lot of the time when we're not together. and his response was "theres a lot of distance between our hearts. its not like we're particularly close right now", and my response was "but you can still kiss me?", and I guess the way i said it in japanese had the nuance that i was complaining about him kissing me, because thats definitely how he took it. so all day long on friday he was saying he never wants to kiss someone who complains about being kissed again, that im ungrateful, etc. i was trying to explain myself about what i actually meant and it was just my shitty japanese that started a misunderstanding. he wouldnt really listen to me and just got upset that i was trying to defend myself instead of apologizing. so i lowered my head and fucking said sorry. and then invited him to go to yakiniku with me that night.

when we met up, everything was fine. we walked hand-in-hand to the restaurant and continued on like normal. what is it about us where its so much fun when we're together but we just bicker if we spend any time apart.

we went to the bar together afterwards and everything was fine.

the next day, we just watched tv together in bed and chilled around. he kept telling me how beautiful i am and what not, but idk. we had a date-night planned later that night in ikebukuro, so we got ready together and went. we went to an 青森県直送居酒屋. The food wasn't that good, and the atmosphere was okay but we felt like we couldnt relax at all. so we ended our reservation early and went nextdoor to one of our favourite izakayas we always go to. we ate the usual ホッケand drank and smoked a lot. i confirmed with him he isnt currently talking to any other girls so that relaxed me a teeny tiny bit. i have basically cut out every man in my life in an effort to get him back and not make him jealous.

afterwards we went to our usual bar again. everything was fine for the first hour but then i got drunk and asked for a kiss and it started a whole bickering match again. blah blah blah he only kisses people he has feelings for and the fact i would even question his motives was super insulting to him. he likes me but isnt in love with love me so he's trying to figure out if he can love me again, etc etc etc. we were bickering so much that we decided to do it in english because everyone around us (all of my fucking bar friends), were all giving us weird looks and laughing at us and we didnt want them to understand what we were saying anymore. half of them hate x-chan and think i should drop him immediately, the other half really like him as a person but think we treat eachother like shit, basically.

we eventually worked everything out. the kind of things im allowed to ask him about, and what im not allowed to ask him about. some things just make him really stressed out; like asking about his motives (he's a straight to the point guy and has never lied to me almost to a fault), but me asking him things like if he's seeing other girls, or like "what" are we, is totally fine. its annoying we always bicker, but afterwards we just sat and drank in silence for like 5 minutes before he muttered out a sorry. he even messaged me after he got home and told me he was glad we talked about it. i blacked out after so i dont remember if we kissed when we said good bye like we usually do. idk if we will ever kiss again at this point hahaha im trying so hard to get back together and do the right things but i somehow always fuck up. through stupid mistakes like using japanese that gets misinterpreted.

when i messaged him sunday morning to say good morning he told me he wanted to call me that night. okay whatever. he called around 7pm and we chatted about our days a bit. i was outside smoking and drinking a lemon sour when he called and half-way through one of my share-mates came out to also smoke, so i said bye and hung-up so i wouldnt be rude to my share-mate in a shared space.

i have plans to go to our usual izakaya again on wednesday night, then im taking him on another date on friday to a traditional japanese food restaurant. sigh.

i just lied around most of the day and then did laundry, which i didnt even get half-way through because my korean friend invited me to go get yakiniku with her last minute. i didnt even get to finish doing my nails. my nails are always super long, but now they're super short so i can type insanely fast with minimal mistakes. wooooo. but i also feel like i have no value as a human when my nails aren't done so i'll do them tonight.

anyways, went to yakiniku with y-chan at like 9pm. it was fun. we did all you can eat and drink. she's fluent in english, but wants to practice japanese more so we just chatted in japanese. we went to my usual bar after yakiniku and i got a surprising number of hugs from people? for some reason everyone was really excited to see me last night. it felt good but also. i already saw everyone this weekend on friday and saturday hahaha. i had to leave to catch the last train and like 3 separate people we like "nooooooooo!!!" haha.

i was 40 minutes late to work today because the 山手線 got delayed like 3 separate times due to 安全確認　after 緊急停止. i made the mistake of getting off the train after it was delayed for 15 minutes and stuck at 新宿駅。i thought if i ran to the 埼京線 i'd be able to get on and ride it until　渋谷 and get to work on time, but the 埼京線 platform was so packed with people with the same idea. there were people spilling down the stairs and into the main walkways of shinjuku station. no such luck riding that train, so i ran back up to the 山手線 and just waited in the significantly smaller crowd compared to the saikyo line. finally got squeezed into a train and one stop later another 緊急停止。i just gave up at that point hahaha. luckily my boss was understanding and actually read on twitter about it before i even messaged him.

[watery-pancake]

breaking the cycle

we text everyday

and call every night

but it was until the other day, when i talked for so long. you never even gave me a response, or acknowledgement. you never apologized, until i was the one to bring it up. the next night, we called for 4 hours, and the entire time you played games. i doubt you ever even noticed when i muted myself. not like it makes a difference, since you ignore everything else i say anyways. ive been distant, but i doubt you'll reach out to ask what is wrong. or even care how i feel.

i realized it when showering. when i was trying to sleep. when i brush my teeth, and when i put on my shoes. you never really cared about how i feel, did you? it makes sense why every argument turned the way it did. i made the mistake of talking about how i feel so you could understand, and every single time it resulted in you getting so angry you'd say something you regret. the only reason you even reached out to me every time was just because you missed the attention and love i gave you. not because you felt guilty or whatever.

we were with my friends and i cut the cake, and i cut the cake for everyone. there were no plates left for me. all you said was to remind me to cut a cake for the parents. you never even noticed i had to go get my own plate for myself. it was my friend who noticed and apologised and felt dumb for not getting enough plates. i felt more sympathy from a friend than you.

every single time after sex, you just go on your phone. i never really minded, since when i asked you said i could cuddle with you and we could look at memes together. but then, now you just hop on games after, leaving me to clean my mess alone and lie on the bed. just like my ex did. if not that, then you would just scroll on your phone and not even acknowledge im there for another couple hours if i didn't say anything. even when i brought it up, you never did anything.

you promised me you would change. and you lied.

so why should i text. why should i call. like i miss you?

when we text, you just want to talk about yourself and couldn't care less what i have to say. when we call, it's about me watching you play games or listening to you talk, but once i do, you just scroll on your phone when i talk or play games. even if you try to tell me that you want me to talk about what's wrong, what's the point? same cycle, you do something shitty, i bring it up, you argue with me and turn it into my fault. i defend and explain what i felt, you say something you regret, and i hang up. then after a couple days, you miss my attention enough to give an on- the- spot apology. then i naturally forgive, and we 'move on'. and by moving on, you continue the same thing, and i love you less. because i never forget it. and you never make an effort to improve on your shitty habits. so why the hell should i even bring up what's wrong?

what, like it'll change anything?

i dont get why i keep coming back. the hopeless romantic that always believes in the love you state you have for me? its probably what you just saw in your ex anyways. you hate my culture, since you make fun of it at every chance. you hate how i was homeless, since you love to remind me every time i say i like any food. you hate how thin my hair is, since you love to bring it up. you hate all my hobbies, since you call all of them dumb and point out every single flaw in them. god forbid i enjoy anything. you hate how smart i am, since every time i make a slight mistake you use it as a chance to make a dig at it or use it to weaponize against me. a slight mistake is overblown every. single. time. you hate how i have no good support system, since what am i supposed to do? go to my boyfriend for love and support and comfort? what an idiot right.

you say you love everything about me, but actions speak louder than words. and im tired of excuses. you just don't like me. you like my attention and what i do for you. you don't like ME.

you know my deepest secrets. you know i've never found a good love. but yet you continue to never be it. never be the one i can lean on. i have no one to lean on. no one i can be vulnerable with. no one who can support me and take weight off my shoulders.

i'm tired of it all.

[dezdigi]

hating myself so bad

would i have felt better if i had just let him apologize? why do i feel the need to prevent him from taking responsibility if i’m actually hurting? just because i’ve wronged him previously doesn’t mean he can’t do any wrong. but it twists in my head that i have to make up for and defend his actions to him and in my head even when it hurts because it’s my fault everything is screwed up now and i’m hurting and grieving im going crazy ahhhh

i feel like im still hurting from the argents over spring break where i believed he resented me so truly. and for the argument on his father’s birthday where i wasn’t doing enough to entertain his family but his resentment circles back to me not being able to handle anything and that i’m always just going through a hard time always. and whenever he says that it hurts me so deeply because i’m trying all the time to just be okay for myself, for my academics, and mostly for him because i don’t want him checking up on me all the time and for him to say it during an argument that i stress him out. but later in the argument he explains that he doesnt resentment and theres unsolved problems hes holding onto and that he recognized my efforts the whole time.

and it just hurt so bad because it would cut so deep to hear repeatedly that im always just not good even though i’m trying so hard.

i feel like i mess things up so bad whenever he praises me genuinely. to hear things like he thinks that i am genuine and pure or that i nurture him are so rare and for me to go and just mess everything up the next day

i hate myself for not being good enough to just be there without feeling my own feelings i hate it i just want to be happy with the person i love but it feels like my emotions are sabotaging me