#abuse is like a spectrum. to me. it has so many ways ...

[sassmill]

I just want to be allowed to scream at my sister the way she screams at me. I want to be allowed to slam doors and throw things and break things. I want to be allowed to react to the way she treats us and not be called selfish.

[kurthorton-moving]

I dont think i have ever mentioned nick on this blog bc hes an oc that has. Nothing to do with kurt or in common w him but looking at him next to kurt actually is so interesting to me because they're both around the same age coming from abusive homes and trying to just do what they have to to survive and theres so many interesting parallels between them

[nerdvi]

In the wake of the whole james somerton fiasco and inspired by this post, I wanted to share a few of my um, soft signs, like, orange flags to detect when someone is bullshitting you.

First of all, I am on the spectrum which means 1) I tend to take what people say at face value and 2) I have a strong sense of justice which makes me prone to biases, all of which combined means I am at perpetual risk of swallowing the bullshit.

So, what to do about it? You turn on the critical thinking and pay attention.

As one of my favorite youtubers, Hannah Alonzo, likes to say: "consider the source, remember the motive". Who is talking to you?? What do you know about them?? What biases might they have?? How do they interact with your own biases?? Where are they talking from?? Is it anger?? happinness? boredom?? Also, why are they talking to you? Are they trying to sell you something?? Are they trying to convince you and why?? How do they go about the finantial motivation, if present? If you have, in this case, a white cis gay man talking to you as it he has it the worst of the worst in the world, there's probably some exaggeration and you should start to wonder. There's a good chance he's bullshitting you.

How they talk about women and POC No, no, stay with me. There's a rule I had back when I was dating men: Always beware of how they treat their mother. With the exception of extremes like mama's boys and cases of abuse, how a man treats the woman with whom they have that familial bond is a good indicator of how they are going to treat you. Do they berate her? speak ill of her? are aggressive or controlling? do they dismiss her opinions? Same with creators, and by god I tell you, specially cis male creators, queer or otherwise, always always beware of how they speak of women, how they treat women, how they treat POC. Somerton had a weird vendetta against straight women. It went mostly unnoticed. Then, he was dismissive towards lesbians and other queer women and it was once again overlooked. Then he went ahead and made sinophobic content about genres and cultures he knows NOTHING about. Again, it went unchecked. What I am telling you is IT'S NOT NORMAL. Contempt about women and non white-western cultures is not normal and if someone has them as them as an enemy or a scapegoat, they're probably bullshitting you. Take what they say and fact check it, see for yourself.

If at any point in a video or an essay you find yourself thinking "wait, really??" then it's time to fact check. Is it a bit suspicious?? is your logic telling you that's not quite how this works?? Then take to google, my friend, they might be bullshitting you. At worst, you dodge a fake fact, at best, you learn way too much about a topic you were already interested in.

Beware of the lack of nuance. I can not stress this enough. We all love monochrome, but life and societal issues are never black and white. It's just impossible, there's too many factors to consider. If you are being presented situations or anecdotes as absolute truths, you're probably being bullshitted. If it's too good to be true, it is. If it sounds waaay too convenient, it probably is. A good researcher, a serious investigator, will always have some nuance because they have done the work and checked the sources. If someone provides you 1) no nuance and 2) no sources, THEY'RE BULLSHITTING YOU.

These are the ones I can come up with just of the top of my head, I'm sure there's more and please, add them. Remember that naivité isn't a crime, I'm fairly naive and that's made me distrustful, and these are some of the techniques I've found that help me navigate through a world of information without losing myself.

[byemambo]

4Minutes EP. 4 - My Takeaways

For the sake of organization: my future takeaways will be under #mambo.4minyap (get it? hehehehehe) cause it seems to be hitting the radar for lots of folks. It's also an interesting series, and I like talking and taking the scenic route while doing so!

Compositional Framing: The Relationship of Oppression

We got the most information about Korn's character and status within the story from this episode thus far: but the visual devices popped out the most for me (I am an artist after all LOL). I mentioned camera angles, specifically bird's eye view in my episode 1 takeaways, but we're met with a different element: shot sizes! I'm not a filmmaker so please go easy on me (my credentials include my storyboarding and animated illustration classes so my knowledge is limited), but what remains consistent throughout this episode is Korn's relationship with authority and power through the usage of establishing shot size, which lots of his scenes with various characters have varying heights.

Tonkla (Authoritarian) vs. Great (Equals)

The way Korn approaches these two characters have their obvious differences in relation to himself, but the common thread is that these two characters are individuals Korn should love. It's expected to love your family unconditionally, and arguably, love your partner even more than that. But as we've seen the story play out, starting from Korn and Great's family dynamics (which I've also covered in episode 1!): love has always been conditional.

Their relationship is revealed from a flashback that Korn and Tonkla are established boyfriends since their university days, however, dating in secrecy. This further contributes to Tonkla's stress and anxiety within the relationship, slowly escalating once he realizes the mistreatment he's tolerating. I found the symbolism between the pet cat's collar and Korn's "senior chief" sash interesting: there is ownership involved, which is mistaken for partnership.

From the jump, Korn doesn't view Tonkla as an equal partner to him, but someone who he can assert dominance over (which is primarily physical but also emotional). By displaying acts of love such as helping Tonkla through his first time and being present during Tonkla's loss with his deceased pet cat, what seems innocent and kindhearted on the surface actually has more context (which due to the 30 image limit, y'all are going to have to watch the episode for yourself and take my word for it LOL).

In the university flashback, Korn mentions keeping the cat's collar as a memento, but he's not the one reaching in and taking the collar off the cat: Tonkla is. Tonkla also isn't the one who puts on the "senior chief" sash himself: Korn is. In both scenarios, Korn is the one making decisions for Tonkla during his moments of vulnerability (both in a state of grief and during a sexual act). I checked out this article to make sure my facts are straight (got too many fun facts up my sleeve), but this approach is how cults target and recruit their victims:

Possible situational vulnerabilities include illness, the death of a loved one, breakup of an important relationship, loss of a job, or moving to another city, state or country.

Is this deliberate, or is it Korn's act of kindness? We can only infer at this moment where Korn falls on the value spectrum, but he's definitely a morally gray character (you can argue with your mom idc). During the after care scene, Tonkla mentions his father (which is alive during this flashback, but not presently living during the funeral ceremony) and moving to a new place with his younger brother due to his father's alcoholism (and possible physical abuse but this is only an assumption). Korn handles this interaction by providing financial stability (cough cough financial abuse) for Tonkla in the meantime, establishing a relationship rooted in give-and-take, debt and IOUs, under the guise of a caring romantic relationship. Given that Tonkla and his brother have suffered from trauma relating to family dynamics and enduring dysfunction into adulthood, I can see why Tonkla had become completely blindsided to this level of power imbalance that is simply all too familiar.

Once Tonkla realizes that Korn is only present in his life for his own self-interest, and access, he stands up against his oppressor, recognizing that there is another individual that is displaying signs of love and care (which isn't 100% healthy, but it's progress nonetheless) that Korn has bread crumbed him for all these years.

This confrontational scene is highly intense and emotional, which is reinforced by Korn's physical stature towering over Tonkla in most of the scenes we've seen thus far in each episode and usually ending with Korn continuing to be enabled. These scenes are usually shot at angles such as panning from above to reveal Korn's power over Tonkla, who's usually shot from over-the-shoulder and panned down. However, once Tonkla finally takes his stand against him, the camera follows him and frames the shot as a close up, tightening the gap between Korn as the oppressor and Tonkla as the oppressed.

Once Korn leaves and returns to question Nan about the leaked information: we're shown a similar staging of Korn physically towering over his victim, but from a cowboy shot slightly panned upward. However, the framing suggests from size relationship alone: Korn is nothing more but a victim himself playing the role of the villain. He is in the same predicament as his own victims, but living in a state of falsehood and denial as he has been trained to believe it is his birth right to take over his father's business (not even taking the time to question the morality behind such a business). What remains behind choosing moral righteousness over injustice: the disappointment of living as a failure and abandonment of his family system, the only consistently good thing in his life that is his younger brother Great. It's heartbreaking because we can see somewhat of goodness from his beaconing of retrieving information without the reliance of violent methods (which is unsuccessful and out of context, rather pitiful?), and I really do hope that he will be able to redeem himself (but I wouldn't completely write off the series if he does not deserve redemption).

However, the greatest loss is Tonkla's revelation of his own entrapment: reminiscing the memories held by the collar but in an entirely new perspective. The composition of him looking at himself in the mirror is hauntingly beautiful but full of melancholy: the mirror serves as a moment of literal self reflection, the collar reminding him of living as a possession rather than a person, the frame of the mirror serves as a metaphorical cage. Now it's a matter of whether or not Tonkla will reclaim his power again and recognize that he's simply a bird confined in his cage, but the door is now wide open. Will he realize soon that he has his own wings to fly?

Moral Value: A Hidden Responsibility

We've seen in this episode Great having a better understanding of his gift, establishing his moral compass and duty to act with integrity and with a strong sense of justice. Seeing such strong character development within these past few episodes is breathtaking (especially if you've been a long time supporter of Bible and just his journey as an actor). We have a good sense of Great recognizing his autonomy and relationship with free will, contrasted to how passive and reluctant he was in doing the "right" thing and being given a second chance to make a different decision.

Tyme's motive reveal (I love being right hehe) after being confronted by Great's demand for why he attacked his brother became a turning point for Great to finally tap in and establish his innate desire for moral justice, especially after being told about Nan's captivity and being foreshown her demise once he found her location. What I found most interesting during the initial rescue of Nan from Samarn was just how "normal" his conduct was when addressing Great as the son of his upper head. How polite his language was while holding a gun and standing next to a pool of his victim's blood, to just before Tyme's appearance where Great becomes the voice of reason amongst the chaos.

"Why can't I?"

It's such a simple response, but it's so loaded with depth and hidden meaning: it makes you sit back and also wonder...why can't I?

Great becomes an individual questioning the circumstances surrounding him, enabling himself to experience change. When his "friend" attempted murder and brought him along for the ride, when he experienced his first few heart attacks and hitting the woman seeking unalivement, when he is confronted by his brother's attacker and doesn't blindly dedicate his loyalty to his brother for the mere fact that he's family, when he sees Nan's predestined death in the hands of the enemy (which you can say that it really be your own people).

What makes Great such a fascinating character to me is just how dynamic and determined he's become after being gifted with foreseeing the future. Having such excitement in his awareness to his free will makes me enjoy him more as a character, that our lives are not predetermined to live and die for, that we have morals and values that must be considered and analyzed for its legitimacy, that we have integrity to do what's right without entitlement to self-interest, that we have the shared responsibility to criticize the world in which was built for us, but our jobs to upkeep and maintain. I'm excited to see what's in store for Great moving forward, and I'm so happy for Bible and Jes to play such characters.

Even though the lighting is similar to how Korn and Tonkla's flashback was, the visible warmth is even more obvious with how these two established their relationship. That in contrast to KornTonkla's ownership, TymeGreat is partnership (we haven't reached boyfriend status yet but it's coming!) How Tyme is willing to accept and make room for Great's excitement and passion, to hold it gently, to cherish it as a fleeting moment. Their NC scene in comparison to KornTonkla and WinTonkla is simply ethereal: the level of shared vulnerability and intimacy warmed my heart. From the lighting to the shots and down to the chosen score, the director does a fantastic job of creating such dissonance between all the pairs (which lots of people like to write off NC scenes as unnecessary and vulgar but it's just blatant purity cultural standards imposing on all of us and I need to dedicate another time to talk about it). The visual storytelling thus far has me anticipating more from the story as the details continue to establish the worlds revealed to us.

Tonkla's Brother: The Arrival of Home

I'm sure we all saw this coming but the reveal is heartwrenching. To see such a sweet face and scene filled with hope and longing with its immediate contrast to harsh reality, my heart goes out to Tonkla. Some may infer that there's a separate timeline that exists alongside reality, but I think it's possibly a hyperrealistic hallucination or dream by Tonkla (since the last scene we see of him was just before heading to bed for the night but also his intense codependency on drugs). Of course on the surface, people can infer that this is simply Dome returning home from recovering from his injuries: however, I interpreted it philosophically. Dome arrived home for his soul to rest.

We're shown in the first half of the episode of Tonkla mourning after Dome's body is cremated (I'm also Buddhist but I'm nationally American and ethnically Vietnamese so my interpretation of the religion will have its differences), which now establishes Dome's physical remains returning to the earth which his soul can no longer return to. I imagined Dome's soul has reincarnated and given access to the Western Pureland (since Tonkla was physically outside in the warm sunlight versus his more cool toned coloring within his scenes), only hoping that he actually experienced resting on his deathbed ready to enter the afterlife with a smile. Now we know that Tonkla's fingerprints were already in the investigation database: we need to know why and what crimes he had already committed before the murder shown as the opening in episode 2. This is definitely going to affect Win's current dynamic with Tonkla, given that they're now living together and he has access to Tonkla's home and possessions. Maybe we'll experience another shift in character development like how Great was, but possibly targeting Korn if the company is involved in Dome's case somehow.

Honorable Mentions: Heart Attack Transition

This scene was literally so fucking cool. The match cuts and in and outs of the inversion (def going to have trigger warnings for future GIF sets) were literally out of this world, especially when I find out it's from the freaking painting within the hospital hallway that is just a prop on the surface. I wonder who suggested such a transition and I wonder how they'll depict Great's future heart attacks and visions. The VFX team is working overtime and I'm so impressed so please give them their flowers!

[strayed-quokka]

babydoll || ji changmin || act i

↳ Changmin isn’t popular nor is he rich, whereas you run on the other end of the spectrum, spoilt and living on your dads credit card. when you’re tasked with kicking him out of the biggest party of your year, you come to realise he’s not all that bad. unfortunately, falling in love with the ji changmin is your one way ticket to social suicide.

↳ pairing: ji changmin x female reader + ex lee juyeon x female reader

!!! this is not a love triangle !!!

~ rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact with this work

↳ genre: enemies to acquaintances to reluctant friends to lovers, slowburn, drama, angst, happy end but it takes a long ass time, rich girl broke ass uni boy

~ warnings: everyone kinda sucks, reader is a pain to deal with, alcohol, sex while on drugs, sex while intoxicated (consensual), condom where?, use of whore, degradation kinda, the classism is strong in this one, implications of eating disorder, body issues, body modifications (nipple piercings), changmin is basically a chainsmoker but we love him, cocaine is common, so is imported wine, swearing, juyeon is toxic, emotional abuse, manipulation (?), moaning the wrong name, bullying, pet names (little doll, doll, darling, princess), good girl, oral (male recieving), spanking if you squint, taller reader with long hair, is anyone redeemable?

everyone is an adult in their 20s

!!! if I missed anything or I remember something else I will add it !!!

↳ words: 14,838

a/n: this is a month late, i know. changmin broke my computer, it's simply not my fault, thanks.

I have said this previously but I will be stating this every chapter. There are some specific physical attributes to this reader which I usually avoid doing but for the story itself it was necessary.

Also, please note that the warnings are applicable to the chapter in question, not necessarily the whole story. You can find all the warnings on the masterlist to babydoll.

let me know if you wanna be on the taglist 🩵

babydoll playlist || teaser

You huff in frustration in your desperate attempts at wriggling yourself into your custom made corset without accidentally dragging the jewelry adorning your nipples with you, for the pain would be hell and you cannot be dealing with any of that on such an important night. 

“Why do you still squeeze yourself into clothes that don’t fit?”

“It does fit,” your best friend raises his eyebrows, coming over to you and completely unbothered by your bare chest. He’s seen you naked before, and whilst there were many rumours of you and Chanhee being an item, you both laughed at the absurdity and simply played into it when you felt like stirring some trouble, “it has to be tight.”

“You can barely get it on,” but you let him take over, covering your chest with his own fingers as he tugs the moss coloured fabric over, until he’s sure your piercings are out of danger. You thank him and proceed to tug the rest down yourself, adjusting it so that your chest lifts further, creating the illusion of far more cleavage than you actually have, “looks good though.”

“I know,” he rolls his eyes, taking the white string of the corset between his fingers at your back, “how tight?”

“Break my ribs tight,” you’re yanked back with force into his chest, making you yelp though you ignore the pressure created on your body for the sake of beauty. For just a moment, you dare envy Chanhee, who despite being dressed beautifully in a dark red suit and a button down open far too low to be subtle, can at least breathe without feeling suffocated. 

“You worry me,” and it’s genuine. His voice is sincere and it’s incredibly off putting, for you don’t do well with sincerity, nor do you do well with anything that isn’t bragging within your social circle to raise yourself above everyone else. 

Out of all your friends, of which you had many, Chanhee was really the only one that you let yourself be true to, but the truth to who you were rarely came to light even for him. You hide yourself away, in favour of a rather stoic and icy personality, for it was so much easier to display power in arrogance than in empathy. 

“Don’t. It’ll give you wrinkles,” he laughs, finishing up with a neat bow of the satin string down the centre of your back, your leather black shorts high on your waist and heels just above your knees. You looked good, lips stained a perfect red and eyeliner dangerously sharp with glitter over your eyelids. 

Perfect. 

“How do I look?” though you only expected one answer, one he gave you without missing a beat because Chanhee always knew exactly what you wanted to hear. 

“Sexy as hell.”

The party is in full swing by the time you arrive. You never liked to be early, and arriving at the time given was what you considered to be a rather pathetic display of having nothing better to do beforehand. If anything, being late was being perfectly on time. You didn't care who might find it rude.

Your driver had taken a rather long and unnecessary detour upon your request so that you and Chanhee could down shots in the back of the SUV, a mess of small glass bottles littered across the floor that you’d pay someone to clean before your father ever found out. You didn’t care much for the damage you caused, mainly because there was never any repercussion for your actions. 

The dents in your favourite credit card wasn’t even in your name, nor was the chaos you caused enough to cause much money to be lost. Your father allowed you to have anything you wanted, and the idea of having everything just made you want more. Your mother had no complaints either, for as long as you were out of her way, she didn’t care what you did. Well, it was partially true. You didn't like to think of the times she did say something to appeal to the idea that she was a good mother.

You were always greedy, but not only were you greedy, but you wished for your best friend to have whatever he wanted too. You took turns paying for things, weekend shopping trips more than a regular occurance, though where to most they may be simple and inexpensive, to you they were filled with luxury items that easily amounted to costs that most could never even dream to afford. 

“Start of last term… how’d you feel?” 

When stepping out of the car, it surprises you that you don’t stumble, Chanhee linking his arm with yours before thanking your chaffeur, handing him a large sum of bills in an excessive tip that he doesn’t need to give, “fucking finally. Can’t wait!” 

He chuckles, leading you inside the house of none other than Lee Juyeon. 

Juyeon was quite possibly the wealthiest young man on campus and your ex-lover, but neither of those made a difference in whether you were invited or not. It was a given that you were, even high up on the guest list along with your best friend's name as you were let in. 

You’d been in these very walls a lot, could cross off many rooms on the list of where you’d been naked and bent over, sometimes high on drugs you’d barely remembered taking, creating a shift in reality and overwhelming pleasure that could never come sober. 

“There she is, the little princess,” you scoff, glaring at Juyeon though accepting the delicate glass of expensive champagne that the man himself offers to you, handing another to Chanhee as if he’d prepared for this moment, knowing that if you came, the other wasn’t far behind. 

Honestly, sometimes you think that Chanhee became the end to your relationship, but you were tired of it anyway. Whilst Juyeon could be fun company, the two of you were the opposite side of the same coin, far too similar in twisted and cold personality to ever be fully compatible. 

“And the little prince. To what do I owe the honour?” His frown is immediate, frustrated by your constant reminder of being similar height, and he’s chucking his drink down his throat before dangling the glass between his fingers. 

“Still the same bitch then, huh?” 

“I learned from the best,” though Juyeon isn’t one to accept defeat. When he knows a situation can’t be won, he simply fades it out or ignores it, rather than arguing himself into a corner. He’s smart that way; something you’d taken onboard yourself for nothing was worse than realising you’d lost to someone else. 

“And Chanhee, still gorgeous,” Juyeon sends him a wink, one Chanhee rolls his eyes to in a way that makes you laugh. The two of them were like oil and water, never getting along fully yet not hating each other enough either. 

“I sent you the money,” your ex grins, digging into his pocket until a white paper box is between his jewellery-adorned fingers. There’s a cross displayed in the centre, ironic to you as your eyes seem amused. 

“I’m aware,” he holds it out to you, though just as you grab it, he pulls his fingers back just enough for you to miss it, “just be careful. It’s good shit.”

"I would hope so with a price like that."

Juyeon wasn’t lying. When you’d cut down the white powder further with your credit card to create two equally sized lines, one for Chanhee and one for you, you hadn’t thought it would hit you so quickly. Given your quite frequent use of the drug, you’d actually become a bit immune to the first hit. 

Chanhee had quickly decided that that one hit would be enough for you both. Whilst normally you’d argue with him and disagree, you let him place the rest in his suit jacket, storing it away from your glazed eyes that watched him lazily. 

Your brain could’ve easily done a hundred thousand things in this moment, but instead you sat there with your legs bouncing and your hands only somewhat calmer because they were twisting in your lap, “let’s dance!” 

You drag Chanhee to the living room that’s now the dance floor, back and forth in your movement before you’re easily brought to the centre of the room. With Chanhee, it was easy to grab attention, for he was a dancer before he was anything else, sober or not; he simply lived and breathed it, dragging you in by the waist to move with him. 

You’re not sure how quickly the time goes. It could be hours or just a few minutes, but the cheering dies down and you’re wondering what could possibly be grabbing anyone’s attention so desperately that it’s not on you anymore. 

Blurrily, you tear your eyes away from Chanhee, landing on a figure in the corner of the room alone. He’s disinterested, and it takes quite a long time for you to recognise him though when you do, you’re immediately filled with hatred. 

Ji Changmin. 

Beyond beautiful, sure, with his dark locks of hair and jewelry-adorned ears, his usual glasses sat over his face, framing it in a way that made him look innocent yet cute, but also completely worthless of anyone’s time. 

And here he was taking yours away. 

You’re not even sure how he got in. There was no way Juyeon would put someone who got into your university with pure luck and a scholarship, onto tonight's guest list of prestigious classmates who had it all. He didn’t even seem comfortable in being here, so why the hell was he here?

“Y/N,” Chanhee calls your name, though it’s a blur that fades somewhere deep within your drugged mind until you’re physically yanked back to pay attention to him. You notice Juyeon suddenly standing next to him, a lazy smirk on his lips while you have no idea where he suddenly came from. 

“Explain, now.”

“Ah well, I wish I could. Don’t actually know how he got here. Impressive, though. Shall we keep him?” 

He asks as if Changmin is a pet, though you suppose that’s not quite far off. To everyone in the room, the man in the corner meant very little. He didn’t have money, and whilst some of his clothes were nicely put together, they were mostly cheap. All in all, his appearance was a contrast to yours, and you never appreciated anyone who put in even a percentage less of effort into looks than you did. 

You considered it lazy. Even if your rational mind told you he couldn’t afford better, it simply wasn’t good enough if he was going to be part of the world you were in. 

“Mind telling him to leave?”

You hadn’t seen him all night, though here he was, Hyunjae, standing tall and proud before the three of you, dressed dark yet regal with a bottle of half-empty red wine between his fingers. It wasn’t unusual to see him avoid an actual glass at a party, for he saw no real use if he was going to drink the contents of a whole bottle anyway. Why pour it somewhere else first if the end result was the same?

“Juyeon, you’re the host,” Chanhee interjects, bitterly reminding Juyeon that he had to do most of the work unless he involved security. And when it came to using security, Juyeon liked to avoid it until it became the very last resort. He rather loved to manipulate people in conversation until they were uncomfortable enough to leave.

Whilst Changmin was a frustrating inconvenience, he was not worth causing a scene for.

“Y/N you tell him,” Juyeon yanks the bottle of wine from Hyunjae, chugging it down as you stare at him in disbelief. 

“What? Why me?”

“You’re the only girl,” Hyunjae mumbles, not quite with the conversation as he attempts to get his drink back, mildly successful though there’s a fresh stain of liquid red on the carpet, earning him a rather rough punch to the shoulder from the host. 

“Careful, that’s imported,” Juyeon scoffs. 

“As if you paid for it,” and he couldn’t argue. His parents were often away, so he was often free to do as he liked and act like it was all his. In reality, only a small share of the luxury was, though the small share was more than enough for him to be incredibly well off and indifferent to anything.

“There’s other girls here,” you yell, spinning around as if to point them all out in an over-dramatic gesture in case all your friends were blind, but that doesn’t seem to matter, and now your head is starting to hurt as fatigue hits you from the alcohol, but your brain can’t rest to save your life because of the self-induced high you’re on from the drug you took.

“Very true,” Hyunjae confirms, though he seems to hold all the answers, so confident in the way he leans down to your level, a little condescending and dangerous in his tone, smelling of cologne and alcohol, “but none of those girls are you.”

Damn it, if Lee Jaehyun didn’t have a way with words. 

“Fine,” you exasperatedly snarl, hands on your hips as you huff, annoyed, “what do I get?”

“What would you like?” Juyeon asks you, and it’s in the same tone he used to speak to you with when you were together. An attitude screaming you could have anything if you kept his bed warm at night. 

“Shopping trip. Funded by you. No limit,” he’s considering it, rolling his eyes as he reaches for his pocket where his wallet lies, “and I get a plus one. Chanhee’s going.”

The smile on Juyeon’s lips immediately fades, but he nevertheless takes out the platinum card and practically shoves it against Chanhee’s chest, not trusting you to take it when you’re a little more than out of it, not to mention he’s fairly certain that you’re not even quite sure where you are in his house anymore. 

“Fine,” he snarls, eyes angry but equally impressed. As if telling you you’ve played your cards well, exactly as he would’ve, but that he’s anything but happy about it. 

You’re just as good as him, always unmatched and it’s his biggest frustration with you in his life. To him, you were a competitor, worthy of his time only because you pushed the limits. 

Approaching Changmin should’ve been easy. He’d been standing in that corner for the past few minutes, simply unmoving, a drink in hand, alone and isolated, though as soon as you make your way towards him, he moves.

You’re not sure if he’d noticed you, or if maybe he’d grown restless and simply had terrible timing, but there was a growing anger in you at watching him walk away and go outside into the large backyard. 

If there’s one thing you definitely didn’t handle well, it would be people walking away from you. And whilst sober, you may have been able to rationalise it more and thought that maybe, just maybe he hadn’t seen you, intoxicated you wasn’t as forgiving, not to mention insulted regardless if he’d known you were there or not. 

It’s enough for you to angrily tear a drink away from the grand piano, a row of champagne glasses neatly lined up and filled to take, rushing after him blindly. 

“Hey!” 

Your voice is loud, enough so that people immediately stop their conversation to turn to you, only to realise that you weren’t paying them any mind, but the one person it’s meant for keeps walking as if he hadn’t bothered to hear you. 

“I’m talking to you!” 

You’re more secluded now, Changmin having chosen to rest his body against the fence furthest from the pool and crowds of people, though a few are still scattered about. He finally turns towards you, as if choosing to acknowledge your presence, though he doesn’t say a single word as he lights a cigarette. 

“Do you not speak? Are you mute?” 

“It’s Changmin,” he snarls back, and the way he says it makes you straighten your posture. You don’t actually think you’ve really heard his voice before, but there’s a certain dominance in the way he says his name to you that makes you still, “maybe try that, if you want my attention.”

Unbelievable.

You scoff, downing your glass in one go before you let it hit the railing to your side, hard enough to shatter and break at your feet. 

“I don’t want your attention.”

“Then why did you run out here?” 

There were many ways this conversation could go. Even more ways the conversation could’ve started, though you never thought the end result would be this, with Changmin getting on your last nerve before he offers a cigarette out to you, as if he’s completely unaware of how agitated you are. Or maybe he’s perfectly aware and is offering it as a means for you to calm down. 

Either way, you surprise yourself by accepting it, practically ripping the lighter out of his hand. He watches you the whole time, and you’re not sure if you’re flattered or annoyed that he’s terribly good at maintaining eye contact with you when your chest is right there and everyone else has been looking down rather than up. 

“You weren’t invited,” he smiles, jumping up to sit on the railing, and he doesn’t for one moment seem to disagree with you. You’d expect him to put up a fight, maybe tell you that you must be mistaken before you’d whip out the well I know Lee Juyeon personally card, but you never need to. 

“You’re right, I wasn’t,” you’d say the thing that separates you both the most is how relaxed he seems to be carrying himself whilst seeming to be near or completely sober, whereas you at best only manage it either drunk or after sex for a few moments before you go entirely rigid again. You wouldn’t say you envy it, but it is something you wonder about. 

“Why are you here?”

“My friend was invited. I’m just making sure he doesn’t drink too much-”

“What friend?” you interrupt, and it sounds harsher than intended but Changmin doesn’t seem very bothered. Either your words don’t affect him at all, or you’re unaware of how you’re actually speaking right now, maybe sounding far more out of character and far more gentle than you think in your head. 

“That’s none of your business,” he answers and you scoff again. Any kindness you might’ve shown him is replaced with an anger that seems almost disproportionate to the situation. 

“I’m making it my business.”

He doesn’t say anything first, watching as you take a drag from the cigarette he’d offered you. It bothers you, that he’s not really staring at your lips but rather what you’re doing, and you wonder why he doesn’t care. You’re giving him attention, why doesn’t he want it?

And then he walks away and you’re left standing there like an idiot. Something you absolutely refuse and detest and suddenly you’re the one chasing him again. You didn’t know a lot about Changmin, aside from the fact that he was likely smarter than you and had way less money, but what you were starting to learn, you hated.

You’d been told to kick him out and damn it, if that’s not exactly what you were going to do. You were as stubborn as anything and near yelling his name again before you simply huffed and attempted to run after him in your heels, something you weren’t really good at but you didn’t want to give the young man any more attention than he’d already gotten. From you nonetheless. 

“You have to leave,” it came out weak, like you weren’t quite sure if you were gently asking or telling him, but it made him stop walking and look at you again. You ignore the way your heart lurches in your throat, clearing it and standing straighter, an attempt to make yourself seem bigger and more intimidating than you maybe were. You had to remind yourself that you were the one in charge, not him. 

“Believe me, darling, I’m not here by choice,” yeah right. 

“Then leave,” Changmin takes a step forward, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette near your lips, close enough to make you cough and you realise you need another fucking drink after this. Hell, maybe you’ll be dumb enough to find Juyeon to fuck the frustration away.

“I can't. I’m someone’s designated driver,” he answers back, and you see the way his knuckles clench just enough to indicate frustration. You’re getting to him, finally, though he still seems far too composed. 

“You can’t afford tuition. How would you afford a car?” 

“Well, you see, most people work for the things they get. I can send you a few job openings if you’d like?” God, any attraction caused by his appearance dissipated with the tone of voice he spoke in. He got under your skin and fast, nestling there with a comfort you didn’t appreciate.

“Bite me.”

“Where?” 

“Fuck off.”

“Gladly. You’re dumbing me down,” your arms cross, yet even so he still doesn’t glance down when your cleavage threatens to spill over the corset you’re wearing and you huff. There were two options. Admit defeat and walk away, or hurt him. But any insult you thought of was lost on your tongue as you stared at him in near disbelief. He was waiting for you to answer, to say anything, but after a while he seemed almost bored and simply turned around again. 

Unbelievable. 

“Is your answer to just always walk aw-”

“You bore me,” he says, one hand in his pocket as he heads back towards the house that you’re meant to get him out of. 

“You’re interrupting m- HEY!” 

Never, ever would you admit defeat. It wasn’t like you to lose and you never knew anything other than getting your way, and yet here you stood frozen because someone had ignored what you wanted and it had left you speechless. He was embarrassing you and your character, both of which you knew to be strong and self-sufficient, and you were letting him. 

“Did the little princess get ignored?” Juyeon looked thrilled, like he’d wanted this to happen, and yet you barely paid any mind to him suddenly appearing beside you. You hadn’t even noticed him approach, staring into a blank void of where Changmin had been walking back inside. Maybe if you imagined him still standing there, he’d appear and you could give him a piece of your mind, “Looks like I’ll have to take back that platinum card, little one.”

“What if I fuck you, can I keep it then?” 

“Isn’t that a step away from prostitution?” 

“Are you complaining about getting your dick wet?”

Juyeon shuts up in an instance, like even in his hazed slightly drunk high mind, he knew better than to complain. Chanhee would never let you live this future mistake down, but right now, you don't care. In this instance, you let Juyeon take your hand and tug you through a sea of people until you’re in his bedroom, shutting it quickly with your own body as he presses you against the dark wood. You grab his shirt and pull him close, tilting your head so he can kiss down your neck and you simply let him.

You were just so fucking frustrated and had already come here with the intention of fucking someone, and at least Juyeon knew you. He was insufferable, sure, but he was a source of comfort in familiarity that grounded you when you were too angry to fully think. Maybe you should learn to be more grateful for him. 

Being grateful wasn’t exactly something you were good at showing, though, so instead you show your appreciation by sinking down to your knees, your shorts tightening around your thighs with your legs partially spread while you work on unbuttoning his pants. Juyeon chuckles, grabbing your hair between his large fingers, tugging in a way that shows arrogance and expectancy in your lewd behaviour. 

You were both bad for each other, you think, but it’s something you don’t care about. 

Juyeon’s arrogance and place in your life almost never played on your mind. 

“Do you like whoring yourself out to me?” 

“I can still bite your dick off,” he chuckles, low like he’s mocking you and it makes you shiver. You hate almost everything about him at this point, but he spoiled you and his cock was big and both were enough reason to keep him around. 

“Maybe, but then your tight little pussy won’t get to clench around my cock when you cum,” and he had you cornered just like that, taking his cock in your mouth as you began to suck and wet the head with your lips. His free hand leans against the door, eyes cast down onto your own as you look up. You liked looking at him. He was beautiful, with sharp features and a cocky smile and your judgement didn’t matter when he stared back. 

Your tongue dips into the slit of his cock before letting your teeth barely graze the shaft while you take him in your mouth, hearing him curse under his breath and his eyes finally disappear from your own in favour of squeezing them shut. You hollow your cheeks and angle your head in a way that lets you take more of him in, moaning around his cock when you do. 

It’s become a little repetitive for you to give head, but you also don’t mind it because it was easy to do. You build up a pace and grab Juyeon’s thighs for support, digging your manicured nails into the flesh as he moves his hips in time with you, leaving you gasping for air each time he lets go. Your mouth releases his cock and a string of saliva falls between you both, your lips swollen red as you stare up at him with a blank stare. 

You know you don’t have feelings for him, and he doesn’t have feelings for you. 

“Get up,” you let him tug you, his hands moving to your back to tug the strings of the corset Chanhee had tied just hours ago, and it feels like a struggle to get it pulled over your head. 

"Wait! My piercings,” you nearly yell, not ready to tear either of them because Juyeon decides to pull a little too hard. He huffs, frustrated, but he’s nice enough to listen and tries to be a little gentler while you finally allow your lungs their usual breathing capacity. 

Your corset is haphazardly thrown to the floor and your shorts follow, but the minute you step out of them, Juyeon has lifted you up onto his waist. His cock presses against your lace panties, the wetness of your pussy felt through the fabric and he can only smirk against the kiss he gives you. You could verbally tell him anything you wanted, but your body always wanted him. 

He sits on the edge of his bed, your legs wrapped around him while your body starts to grind down against him, making you mewl and whimper at how close he is while it still doesn’t feel like enough. 

“Fuck me, Juyeon- ah!” Juyeon’s hand stings against your ass when he harshly slaps the skin, your nails digging into his shoulders before you add, “p-please.”

“Good girl,” his fingers tug the lace fabric to the side, his index teasing your clit and feeling your wetness gather on his skin and it feels agonizing and empty without him fucking you. 

“Please, Ju- want your cock,” he chuckles, all too willing to oblige to your request, and you feel the tip of his dick by your tight hole, begging to be filled and dripping in your juices. 

“Say please,” you whine again, but you both know he’s going to get his way in the end and you relent.

“P-please.”

His cock slips inside you with practised familiarity, but he hisses at the tight walls trying to push him out. Juyeon knows he should’ve taken more time in opening you up, but he also knows you wouldn’t have let him. He knows you like the sting of his cock pressing into you and opening you up just for him and you know not to ask for it because Juyeon knows you better.

It’s agonizing for you both, him waiting to fuck you while you lift your hips up and off his cock each time he goes a little deeper. Each inch stimulates you and makes you shake, and if he was a little less nice, he’d let his frustration get to him and have you sit down on his cock without warning. 

“Princess, sit on my lap,” I’m trying. That’s what you think, but no words come out. You feel like you’ve gone dumb, which is an insult to your character but you don’t think it matters now, “let me fuck you.”

“Y-yeah-” you don’t know how much time passes, but you feel his thighs press to your ass and you nearly sigh in relief at the fullness you feel with him inside you and knowing every inch of him is in your cunt. 

Juyeon slaps your ass again, hard enough that you jerk forward and a moan emits from your throat, and it’s like the sudden electricifying jolt wakes you up and has you moving against him, sinking down on his cock each time you move. It’s sloppy, maybe low effort, but given the routine you’ve both worked up, it’s almost too natural and easy to gravitate towards it. 

Thankfully, the repetition is short-lived when your body strains and muscles tense, lifting your body up, though Juyeon presses you back down, hands digging into the flesh of your ass as you cum against him. Maybe it’s the drugs and alcohol in your system making this easy, tipping you over the edge way before you’re ready, but your exhausted mind doesn’t care and barely registers you being pushed off him so he can cum, a mess of white adorning your inner thigh like a decorative piece of lace. 

Both your breathing is heavy and exhausted, the air thick and sweaty as you look up at the ceiling. You’re thinking, but you don’t quite know what about. You’re clouded, and you decide then that it’s time to find Chanhee and go home.

“I can drive you home.”

“Not like that,” you snarl, unwilling to get into the car with him intoxicated, but more so because you really don’t want to be near him right now. You’re not sure what it is, regret, frustration, maybe both, but you’re just ready to go home and forget this night ever existed.

“Take care,” you mumble something back, just loud enough so he knows you heard him, but you don’t find him to be very genuine. Juyeon was complicated, especially with you, and you wondered often if that circled back to the fact that you were both so painfully similar in your being. 

“You fucked, didn’t you?” Chanhee is standing there, leaning against the wall by the corner you turned to go downstairs and it’s like he already knows. He looks disappointed, not because he cares about what you do or who with, but because he’s fairly certain he knows who you were with, “isn’t it a little pathetic to fuck your ex at his party just to get laid?”

“I wasn’t trying to get laid,” well, that could’ve been debated, but you could say with confidence that Juyeon hadn’t been on your list of plans for the night. 

“But you fucked Juyeon, right?”

“I’m allowed to make poor decisions,” Chanhee follows after you, naturally stepping into pace with you as he pushes you both past crowds of people that cause him an abundance of frustration. 

“Certainly true, you make plenty-”

“I don’t need a lecture,” you snarl, pushing your hair behind your ear after it falls from its place.

“Then don’t be fucking stupid.”

You want to turn your body around and argue. You’re good at arguing, but so is Chanhee and you’re fairly certain he wouldn’t back down from this, even if you’re both in a public setting, and it’s ultimately that and your desire to go home that has you say nothing at all. Honestly, you also know he’s right, that Juyeon is always a bad decision and will never fail to be, and that’s something you have yet to make your peace with. 

A part of you still ached for someone you knew wasn’t good for you, but you refused to let any of it resurface. You weren’t going to be dumb. 

Not again.

You were a little dumb. Your decisions were poor but your facade implied otherwise. You’d will away any thoughts of Juyeon and if they persisted, you’d be taking them to your grave. It was a Monday now, a terrible start to the week and you were very much ready to throw in the towel. 

But you were smart and you enjoyed learning, at least to an extent, and really only your own ambitions and determination had landed you in a major that was far more mathematical than just theory, like you’d so naively believed, and it was really your own fault that you were burnt out from the amount of work you got. 

It’s another reason why you feature so heavily in the university library, almost like a decorative piece, one of the statues that was carved out of stone around the massive two-story space, old oak woods and beautiful carpeted stairs spiraling up to a study area. One that you frequented more than any other place. Usually, Mondays were quiet. Especially Mondays that featured heavy rain and left most students at home. Honestly, you couldn’t blame them, which is why you were so agitated to see that almost every seat around you with a desk was taken. 

Even the more comfortable chairs that spun and had a pillow as a rest but no table, were occupied and overflowing with students. You weighed your options, but given your time limit and unwillingness to stand around like an idiot and risk someone noticing it, you took a seat at a six-person table across a dark head of hair that you failed to recognise until you’d already sat down and it was too late. 

Changmin. 

You fucking hated Mondays.

The deflected way your shoulders dropped didn’t go unnoticed by him, you could tell, because he’d briefly looked up only to roll his eyes at the way you’d looked visibly annoyed, maybe even disappointed. There was the option to move, there was other space, but it would be far too obvious and you didn’t want to make a scene, not one that involved him. The last thing you needed was people talking, especially after you’d tried to kick him out of Juyeon’s party. 

Did it bother him? 

“You can quit staring at me.”

“I wasn’t staring,” but your answer came out too quick, too defensively and you knew he didn’t believe you. Honestly, you hadn’t noticed yourself staring until he’d said it, and at that point you knew saying the opposite was a lie. You just weren’t aware of it. 

“About the party…” you’re not sure what you’re attempting, pushing your hair back and up into a bun to get it out of your way, using the distraction to think of what you might say. 

“A pleasant conversation, certainly. Can I finish this?”

Changmin was strange. You couldn’t begin to pretend like you knew him nor could you understand him, aside from the fact that he was frustrating, a little bit too pretty and apparently smart. Two of those, you didn’t really care for. 

“You weren’t invited. I was only doi-”

“Running Juyeon’s biddings because he doesn’t have the balls to do it himself?” 

The temptation to say yes is on the tip of your tongue until you remember the weight of his credit card in your pocket, waiting to be spent with your best friend. You were not risking bad karma by allowing Juyeon to somehow find out and have it circle back that you agreed with Changmin on something. God forbid, you’d bury yourself alive if that happened. 

“That’s not what I’m doing…”

“I already told you I don’t care,” Changmin looks back at his book, his glasses moving slightly as they do and you watch as he adjusts it with his slender fingers. You hate how nothing he says hides his intentions or feelings, it’s all right there on the surface and it drives you crazy because you know that he really doesn’t care, and it baffles you. It frustrates you.

Why the fuck was he so indifferent?  

“Yeah but… that’s ridiculous…” 

“Has anyone ever told you the world doesn’t revolve around you, or am I going to be the first?” 

“This isn’t even about me. It’s about you being at a party uninvited,” you snarl, getting exhausted which is only exasperated when you hear someone shush you from further away. If you were speaking loudly, you didn’t care. Not enough, anyway. 

“Yes, it keeps me up at night knowing I caused you such discomfort,” you scoff, feeling offended just by the tone of his voice, and yet you wish it wasn’t so obvious, just how much that bothered you.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“What doesn’t?”

“Being at a party you aren’t allowed to be at?” 

“And whose permission do I need? Yours?” 

“If it were my party, sure. But in this case, Juyeon.”

“In which case, Juyeon can go tell me himself.”

“That’s bullshit!” 

Except it isn’t. It bothers you so much because you know he’s right. It was Juyeon’s party. If he didn’t want someone there, he should’ve said it himself. Instead, you were left to do it, you accepted it because of the promised date with your friend on someone else's dime and it felt so incredibly shallow, not to mention you felt used.

But you weren’t ready to admit how shallow Juyeon made you feel. How lesser than you became for him. And you certainly weren’t ready to tell the person before you that he was right.

Unfortunately for him, you wouldn’t have gotten to say it either even if you really wanted to. There’s a weight of someone’s hand on your shoulder, making you look up to see the displeased face from the only male librarian, a name you never remember but a face you could go without seeing. 

“I’m going to ask you to leave if you can’t keep your voice down at an acceptable level, young lady.”

“I was already leaving,” Changmin interrupts, packing his things into his arms before vacating the seat across from you, “she gives me a headache anyway.”

“I do not!”

Again, Changmin doesn’t care; it’s the way his lack of response that has a way of twisting your gut and boiling your emotions over, making you react and push against it whether you can justifiably reason with it or not. You just don’t like him. 

Yet you feel like always getting the last word, he just barely seems to listen. He’s already left the library before you can think quick enough on your feet and now you’re on your own, alone and feeling humiliated because you know people are looking at you, heard you and him speak and they all know that he’s embarrassed you.  

Your hatred for him had only grown tenfold in your humiliation.

Chanhee sits across from you looking almost doll-like with his black coffee in hand, your own drink before you on the table, untouched. You’d spent enough money that Juyeon might even notice it in his balance, bags surrounding you both and some already in the car because the weight on both your arms was overbearing, yet you still felt a void. You weren’t satisfied, nor were you happy. 

It wasn’t good enough.

“You’re not listening. Do you want to keep insulting me?”

“Huh? Sorry… tell me again?”

“Forget it,” you sigh, feeling the guilt run through your bloodstream and settle in your heart with a heavy weight that you can’t shake.

“I’m sorry. I’m distracted…”

“Yeah, you’ve been distracted since we got here. Hours ago,” he was right, truly, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. Your mind was wandering and each time you told it not to, it persisted.

“Do you think… Juyeon should’ve kicked Changmin out himself?”

“Probably. But why do you care? You don’t like Changmin either.”

“Well… no… but he just… he’s getting under my skin.”

Chanhee laughs, but it’s caught in his throat and sinks when he realises you’re completely serious. 

“Wait, this is actually bothering you?”

“Changmin is. He’s so… frustrating. I can’t stand him.”

“So, don’t? I’m not sure I see the problem?” 

Because there wasn’t one. At least there shouldn’t be one. It didn’t matter. How Changmin viewed you, how he thought of you should mean absolutely nothing, and if it meant anything, it shouldn’t have been enough to get under your skin, and yet here you were, letting him get to you. 

Like he meant way more than he does. Way more than you should ever let him.

“You’re right.”

It’s another Monday morning when Changmin makes you snap and you realise very quickly that Chanhee was very wrong. You absolutely should let everything about Changmin’s existence bother you. Even more now that he’s spilled excruciatingly warm fresh coffee on your white hoodie that cost way more than his entire outfit. 

“I’m sorry,” it’s the most genuine he’s ever sounded when speaking to you. A part of you knows it wasn’t intentional either. You’d turned the corner too fast and he’d done the same, crashing into you before he even realised you were there and it was already too late, but your anger got the better of you. His apology meant nothing to you. He could say it twice, even a third time and it would only make you angrier. 

“Are you fucking blind?”

“Actually, yeah. I don’t wear glasses as an accessory…”

“You- are you… do you think this is funny!?”

“Not particularly.”

“I’m not getting this out, Changmin,” you huff, looking down at your ruined clothes and remembering that it isn’t even nine yet, and your entire outfit is ruined. You’re sure if it wasn’t so thick of a fabric, it would’ve burned your skin too, “replace it.”

“I don’t hear a please.”

“You ruined it!” 

“You bumped into me,” you’re about to protest but he comes closer to you, looking at your stained piece of clothing and then back up at you, “darling, you love to run your mouth on your riches, so put them to use.”

You don’t know what makes your head spin more. The fact that he’s directly insulting you, or the fact that he called you darling again. Your heart lurches up to your throat and threatens to beat louder, and that’s the biggest insult to you. Changmin shouldn’t call you that. You don’t want him to, and yet nothing leaves your lips to protest or tell him to stop. 

He waits a moment, staring at you awaiting a response, any response, and yet he doesn’t get anything. Changmin wonders why, what silences your attitude now to simply stare at him, but he’s not going to ask and he’s not going to pick a fight with you unless he feels the need for it. He’ll defend himself, but not more than he has to. 

Which is why he decides to be the more rational peace bringer in this mess of a conversation, pulling his own hoodie over his body to hand to you.

“Here, put it on and shut it,” you don’t move at first. Changmin wonders if you even heard him at all yet you stare at the fabric with such offence that he’s fairly certain you did, “what? Not good enough for the little doll?” 

Doll. That was a first. You’d heard Chanhee be referred to as a doll plenty of times. Even you thought of him as one sometimes, with his delicate build and beautiful features and attitude, but never yourself. It was never you that was referred to as something that pretty.

You wondered, were you delicate to him, like porcelain, or maybe you were cheaper, not really dollike in the way that you wanted to be. Only when you realised again that it was Changmin that had referred to you as such, did you snap out of it and get annoyed, “absolutely not. I’d rather die than wear that.”

He shoves it into your hands anyway and the fabric is so soft to the touch, you nearly regret declining him at all. It’s way more comfortable than yours, at least in the way it feels against your fingers, and it’s warm too. Not in a way that feels dirty but rather like a heated blanket, like someone's body heat had been radiating off it to create a warm little shell you could nestle yourself into with hints of perfume. 

“Wear it or not, I don’t care. Just… shut your mouth. Your voice is grating me, and now I have to get more coffee,” Changmin doesn’t wait for you to speak. He’s turned the way he came from presumably to go back to the coffee shop, and you’re standing there for the longest time wondering what to even do. You’re annoyed and angry, though it’s simmered down to just being incredibly confused. You stare at the dark blue fabric in your grasp, probably far too large for you and for just a moment, you consider it. You consider it until voices in the hall snap you out of your own stupidity.

“Yikes, what the hell happened there?” Hyunjae seems far from impressed, his clothing perfectly neat and ironed against his toned body, and you can feel the judgement from his eyes that makes you frown. You were being judged for your appearance and that cut deeper than anything else could. 

“Changmin bumped into me,” you cross your arms over your chest, letting the darker borrowed fabric dangle over your forearm while he shares a look with Younghoon. 

Younghoon was unbelievably beautiful yet so high-strung and pretentious that you couldn’t bare being near him most of the time. It was fitting, of course, that he’d be friends with Juyeon and Hyunjae in particular. You’d thought that out of the two of them, he’d be judging you far more for your ruined top but instead it seemed to be the man you’d consider yourself more close to, “look, I know it’s bad. I’ll probably call it a day.”

“Callin’ it a day this early?”

“Younghoon, do you not see what I look like?”

“Oh, I definitely see it,” that one stings. It really cuts, because it feels like a direct insult towards your appearance. Like he’s confirming what you’re already thinking. You’re unattractive and sloppy, with no effort invested in yourself. You look cheap. 

Biting back with an insult is usually what you did best. It’s what you wanted to do now, to tell him to go to hell and leave you alone because you knew you were better than him. Yet you couldn’t, because something in you was threatening to break, like a vial with the sadness you were suppressing and all that was left to do was cry. 

And you would not be caught crying in front of Lee Jaehyun and Kim Younghoon. Never. 

“Fuck you,” you push past him with your usual aggressive tone, the one he was probably used to hearing and used to ignoring much the same, letting you leave without much of a fight. 

You were a good student. You could miss a day, it wouldn’t kill you and you doubt your parents would even notice your absence here at all. If they did, you could blame it on feeling sick, but you weren’t staying here any longer today. You’d study at home, but at least you’d be at home.

Your cat greets you with an unimpressed gaze as you enter the front door, staring at you from the overhead railing above on the second floor. It’s like seeing a reflection of yourself, and maybe it’s intentional. Maybe she mirrors you, or maybe she’s just an asshole. 

Chanhee loved her. She liked him, though. A lot more than you. She tolerated you, you supposed.

“Quit staring at me,” it’s not that you didn’t like her. She was a pretty ragdoll, elegant with bright blue eyes and you took care of her. But she was also a bit of a diva. Your best friend would simply say she took after you, and maybe he was right. 

You’re standing fully naked in your bathroom after a long shower, wondering if you should put on this damn hoodie that’s practically mocking you at the end of your bed where you’d lazily thrown it. It was tempting you, not because it was Changmin’s but because it looked cosy and honestly, you didn’t really care if this one got messy. You could lounge with relaxed shoulders because you didn’t have to think about getting something on your clothes, because they weren’t yours to begin with.

Your body was completely dry by the time you decide to wear it and you’d been right in assuming it would be comfortable. It was long, which made sense, given that it had been big on Changmin too. It was cosy but no longer with the warmth from earlier. The only traces of Changmin came from his cologne. 

And it was nice. It smelled like a mixture of rain and the burning of wood in a fireplace in the winter. Maybe pinecone. You weren’t sure, but it wasn’t overbearing to your senses. You could smell it, it was noticeable, but it didn’t make you shrink away in disgust. It wasn’t too much, just enough, and you liked it. 

You wondered what it was he wore. 

Chanhee would probably know. He practically swam in perfumes and colognes (mostly perfumes) and he could probably pinpoint it. But you were not about to ask him to smell Changmin’s hoodie for you. That would be humiliating to you, and you’d had enough humiliation lately to last you for at least a decade. 

Assuming you made it that far. 

You’d developed what you considered a bad habit. It wasn’t the parties or the drugs or Juyeon that you were worried about, but your growing comfort of wearing that godforsaken oversized hoodie at home.

Maybe if it had belonged to Chanhee or Juyeon, or even Younghoon at this point, it would not have felt so shameful. But it belonged to someone you barely considered acquainted, and it was definitely someone you didn’t and would never grow to like. 

Chanhee had found out about it a week after you’d first taken the item of clothing hostage in your home. He’d come by when it was pouring rain with five bottles of wine and the remainder of your cocaine from your ex and in your drunken drugged-out state you’d confessed that what you were wearing wasn’t even yours. Property of Ji Changmin, you’d called it, before downing another huge amount of the bottle you were holding. 

Your best friend’s first question was to ask if you fucked him. You hadn’t, of course, and you were honest in your protest. It hadn’t ever crossed your mind, at least not at that point. As attractive as Changmin was even in your judgemental eyes, you hadn’t thought about it. 

Well, up until that point, anyway. 

“I wonder what his cock is like…” Chanhee nearly spits his wine back out. He’d heard worse from you. In his opinion, he knew far too much about your sex life from back when you were with Juyeon, but it’s not like he was a prude. He could talk about sex, even in detail, but about Changmin?

“I think you’ve had en- hey!”

You down the rest of the third bottle, the one Chanhee had just been holding and he sighs and reaches to open the next one, away from your thieving fingers. 

“It’s just a curious little question,” because you know that Chanhee is the only person in the world you can really ask this to. Chanhee is probably the only person in the world that you think shows genuine concern for you. 

“I’ve never thought about it,” neither have I. 

The conversation died quite quickly, maybe because Chanhee had no interest in discussing what Changmin might look like naked. You didn’t entirely blame him. Maybe you were just horny. Maybe you should call Juyeon. 

It was a back-and-forth cycle, one that never ended, and maybe that’s what Juyeon expected. He always expected you to come crawling back either way because somehow, you always did. Tonight though, while Chanhee seemed to be sound asleep next to you, you refused to run to Juyeon. You wanted sex, but you did not want to have your tail between your legs knocking at his door and begging for it. 

Staring at the ceiling was your attempt at tiring your body out to go to sleep but it wasn’t happening. Maybe it was the coke (probably), but you were so frustrated and you wanted to have an orgasm. Honestly, any drunker and you might’ve just asked Chanhee. 

You did not just think about fucking your best friend.

So maybe there was some truth to the assumption that you and Chanhee had sex. 

What was sex with Chanhee like?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mumble out loud, ready to just give up, admit defeat and go to Juyeon after all, but Chanhee’s voice interrupts you.

“What now?”

“You’re awake?”

“I had more coke than you, of course I’m awake,” your best friend snarls, though the intentions aren’t cruel. He’s probably just as frustrated as you, maybe more, because Chanhee loves his sleep and if he didn’t get it, he always found himself incredibly grumpy.

“I need to fuck,” you relent, throwing your pillow over your head. 

“Call your precious Juju,” Chanhee answers, shuffling around before you feel his eyes staring at you. 

“It’s Juyeon. And I’m not going to call him. His dick is mediocre at best,” you remove the pillow to look at your best friend and for a moment you feel unfairly sad for how pretty he is. Why couldn’t you so effortlessly, even in a drug-induced tipsy state, look so beautiful?

“Which is why you keep going back to it, got it.” 

“Shut up…” Chanhee shuffles again and it takes you a whole five seconds to register that he’s on top of you, looking down at you with a frown on his face. You know that look. It’s pity and hurt for his best friend and it makes you feel even smaller. 

“Quit being sad. Let’s order some food and we can forget about it.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t gain weight from eating at ungodly hours,” you catch him wanting to roll his eyes but you can tell he stops himself, maybe because he knows your weight is something you’re genuinely not secure about. 

“Incorrect. I actually gained weight recently,” the scoff that leaves your lips is out of your control and you shake your head in amusement instead, but it’s more mocking. 

“Yeah? Well, let me know when it’s actually visible. You’re perfect Chanhee.”

“So are you,” he lays a hand over your lips before the protest he clearly knew was coming, and you simply give up. You give up because you know you’ll both go in circles and given your current state, you’re very likely going to end up in tears. The alcohol had worn off, but it was still in your system and you were definitely upset enough to have a meltdown. 

“Do you think Juyeon thought so too?”

“I think he’s an idiot if he didn’t. And I think you’ve had way too much tonight, because if you were sober you’d never even consider that question. Y/N doesn’t care,” but do you want to care?

There was no justifiable reason to care about Juyeon’s opinion, but you did. He ran in a well-respected social circle that you found yourself a part of, and you really didn’t want your reputation to dwindle. It was already dwindling just for the hoodie you wore and shame washed over you again for even wearing it. 

“Go to sleep, seriously,” Chanhee mumbles, a little slurred but sweet as his leg drapes over your thigh. He wasn’t very affectionate usually, but the moments in which your best friend would reach to hold you like this, were moments you cherished. For you knew them to be rare, and whilst you weren’t very big on affection yourself, from him it was different. Because you knew that when he gave it to you, when Chanhee loved you with such tenderness, it was because he truly felt like it was needed. 

You wished more than anything in the world in that moment that you could tell him you appreciated it, but you weren’t very good at expressing yourself with emotions that were deep and sweet. Things that made you vulnerable were impossible to face, you’d hit a wall until you avoided it all together. You were avoiding it now, the love you had for your best friend, because you simply couldn’t face the vulnerability that came with doing something so genuine in its feelings. 

Understanding how to love was hard, learning to confess it was impossible, even platonically. 

“Goodnight.”

It was raining heavily when you got into the main building, pushing the hood of your jacket down as you approached the left hallway. You were somewhat late, leaving everything deserted and empty aside from a few scattered students. In truth, you’d been up far too late the night before, overthinking. Hovering over Juyeon’s contact was once more a beautifully stupid temptation. 

You felt obsessed and lacking control, and you hated it.

“Little doll,” your heels stop, turning sharply to the sound of a voice you wish wasn’t so familiar. The fact that you could pinpoint who it belonged to was incredibly frustrating, for in your mind it meant you knew Changmin too well, “where’s my hoodie?”

“Keep your voice down,” you hiss, grabbing his sleeve and sharply turning a corner into a deserted hall with one dark mahogany door leading into the auditorium. No one ever came here, “what the fuck are you trying to do?”

“Get your talon claws off me- ouch!” You dug into his skin before pulling away, making him glare at you sharply with discontent similar to your own. Changmin didn’t hide his displeasure of your presence and yet he’d sought it out. 

“I want my hoodie. Or are you going to deny me of something that is mine?”

“You ruined mine,” you bite back, but he doesn’t care. He rolls his eyes and you have to suppress a sharp scoff as you move to sit on the windowsill, enough room to do so in marbled gorgeous stone that you’re far too tempted to bash Changmin’s head against. 

“I apologised. Have you ever apologized for anything, by the way? You don’t seem to know how to do that,” crossing your arms, you lean up to see his eyes. They’re harsh, a dark brown that holds no real mirth. He looks at you like you mean nothing of value, like you’re beneath him and the realization makes you sharply stand back up to match his height with your heels. Actually, you might even be taller.

“I’m waiting for my replacement.”

You lied. In truth, there was a certain comfort in wearing it that you didn’t find with any of your own clothes. Maybe it was the length or how it sat over your skin. Maybe it was the softness of fabric or the initial smell of cologne that had since faded. Whatever it was, it made you want to curl up, but not in sadness, rather in contentment. 

“It’s been two weeks. Possibly more, actually,” but as annoyed as Changmin was, a part of him looked like he wasn’t going to push any harder. It was his final attempt at getting it back, but he didn’t seem to be too displeased if he wouldn’t get it at all. That thought in itself confused you. 

“I’m aware, thank you.”

“She knows her thanks. How endearing of you, doll,” doll. Again, there it was, flowing past his lips unbothered and gently, almost meaningless. The words didn’t hold weight to them, not for him, but for you, they felt constrictive. They felt like something you desired to hear, what you wanted to strive for in appearance, becoming the impossible similarly to how you viewed your best friend, and Changmin was handing it to you on a silver platter. 

You just wouldn’t take it from him. 

“Just keep it then, I really can’t be asked to chase after you.”

“What?”

Fuck. You hadn’t managed to hide your surprise and now he’d caught it, seeming almost amused as he leaned against the wall and watched you. He was dressed casually, as you’d always seen him to be, lazy even, but you couldn’t deny the comfort he probably felt in comparison to you. You, dressed in a short skirt and a top sat so tight on your skin, it was about to cut into flesh, heels high and digging into your ankle with your weight. 

“Keep it. It’ll be a nice change of pace from… well… this,” he gestured, and your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“What the fuck is- Changmin!” 

He was walking away from you, and you damn near couldn’t believe it. Changmin was walking away from you, ignoring you, insulting you, and you had no words for it. 

“Changmin!” 

“Careful, you wouldn’t want people to hear that we know each other, right?” 

He’d caught you there. Stopped you right in his tracks because he was right. You were chasing after him, and the question was why? When had chasing after him ever become worth it to you? Since when did you want to prove a point to him. Since when did anything he thought matter?

You stood there, left in the hall like an abandoned, wounded frail animal, and he didn’t care. The question was, why suddenly did you? The temptation to chase him, to justify yourself and have him take back those sharp insults was near overwhelming, enough so that you debated skipping your first class altogether in favour for a cigarette and maybe a beer from the convenience store to calm your nerves. 

Maybe you’d just go home. 

“You still haven’t given it back?” 

Chanhee interrupts your peaceful start to lunch on a bench outside beneath the overhang to shield from the light rain and you glare the minute he appears. You chip at your nails that need refilling urgently and he stops you with a hold of the wrist, making you stare back at him with a sigh, “how’d you find that out?”

“I saw it at your place this morning when I went looking for you.”

“You were looking for me?” 

Had you made plans that you’d forgotten about? Maybe you’d agreed to drive to campus together, but if that had been the case, you couldn’t remember it. 

“Thought if you were late we could have some breakfast on the way,” silence follows first, the wind blowing strands of hair in your face that you push away behind your ear, “I’m not judging.”

“Aren’t you? Why then bring it up?”

“I guess I’m curious. If you’re fucking-”

“I’m not. I already told you.”

“Yeah, I know, but I also know if you were, you’d probably feel like you can’t tell me. I don’t want you to think that.” 

He was right. That was the worst of it, how well he knew you, truly, even with limited words spoken or a stoic expression, he could still tell. It did bother you, that you had tells. You wished nothing more to be the heartless bitch those who were strangers to you, assumed you were. Truth be told, you were heartless as an illusion to shield yourself from the reality of loneliness and isolation that came with maintaining the life you desired and wanted. 

“We’re not. I’ll give it back to him. Just… haven’t had time,” or you keep intentionally forgetting it. Both are simultaneously true. It’s either not having the time to do so or conveniently going without it. 

“You know… I don’t think he has really many friends.”

“Is that my problem?” Chanhee shakes his head, his lips frowning and he seems annoyed with you, like you’re too stupid to get the point and you nearly feel insulted. He was trying to tell you something without any words, and you failed to understand it.

And as if all the gods worked against you on this day, the man in question stood before you both, appearing almost as if out of thin air, his steps so light he felt weightless.

“Give me your hoodie. The one I so graciously ruined,” his tone, it was mocking you. He was speaking the way you would, but with a certain vanity and uptightness that made you grimace. 

“Changmin,” your best friend acknowledged with a little nod of the head, biting his lip as he went to grab his purse and leave the awkward tension he’d stumbled into entirely without meaning to, but you grabbed his arm and pulled him right back down to sit. 

“I’ll fix it.”

“Yeah, fucking right you will,” he crosses his arms first before moving his fingers up to adjust his glasses, and you note now how slender they are while adorned by silver metals. They’re almost graceful and delicate, shockingly so and you have to blink away and adjust your vision to snap out of it.

“It’s ruined, no? So either you keep it that way, or you risk me ruining it more trying to fix it. Both scenarios, you’re fucked.”

“His logic isn’t wrong.”

“Shut up, Chanhee.”

“So it’s not just me that you’re a tyrannical bitch to?” Chanhee coughed back a laugh, hiding the smile behind his hand and you felt ganged up on. You felt like your best friend was on the wrong side and it stung at your chest, making your heart clench as if it was constricting every part of you. Changmin seemed so effortlessly good at making you feel crazy, but it was worse when you felt like the person meant to be on your team was laughing because of the opposing side. He was humoured, at your expense. 

And it hurt. It stung, far more than it maybe should. 

“You don’t get to call her that. You want to fix her hoodie? Then do so. But don’t call her names you wouldn’t even use to refer to your own dog.” 

Changmin narrows his eyes, intense in his gaze enough so that you cast yours away, his humour gone. You’ve never really been one to cower under eye contact, but it was the way in which he stared back at Chanhee that brought you unease and wariness. 

For someone who looked quite gentle, maybe even kind, he seemed to hide a more dark intimidating side that you weren’t so sure you’d ever really come in contact with, despite the many times you’d thrown and insult or two his way. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry little doll. Bring me that hoodie tomorrow, and I’ll see what the fairy godmother can whip up for me,” he was mocking you again. Blatantly. Without any regard for your feelings and it chipped at you. Things like this shouldn’t bother you. They didn’t bother you, so why did this? Changmin had a way of crawling under your skin, of settling deep into your veins and creating a constant sense of emotional turbulence to your feelings. 

“Hey, do you wanna-”

You get up before Chanhee can finish, unbeknownst to you, hurting his feelings in the process because as rude as he knew you to sometimes be, you never acted this way towards him. You loved Chanhee, you were mostly kind to him, but suddenly something cracked in a mirror and he started to see that maybe you weren’t exactly all that he’d made you to be in his mind. Maybe you weren’t perfect. 

You surely weren’t the little doll that Changmin referred to you as. A nickname that still tormented you because the question simply became why? 

When you dig out the white hoodie from deep within your overflowing laundry basket, you briefly debate if it’s worth it. You could afford to go to the dry cleaner yourself, he couldn’t, and yet it was more about proving a point of exactly that. A spiteful, vindictive, evil little point, but one nevertheless. He ruined it, so he could fix it. You reap what you sow. 

But the longer you stared at the offensive fabric, the more it felt pointless. You weren’t really sure what you were trying to prove, if anything at all. Aside from maybe the fact that he was worlds beneath you, that he’d never be like you, and that something as simple as going to the dry cleaners was somehow proof that you were better than him. 

When you near shove the fabric against his chest the following day without even a hello, he seems used to it. Changmin doesn’t blink, barely budges or loses his footing, doesn’t really question it either. In a way, he was used to you. 

In a way, you became used to his indifference, too. 

It took a while. Days turned into a few good weeks and you were almost convinced that Changmin had ruined your hoodie entirely. That you’d never see it because he’d turned to some at home DIY of cleaning a stained white fabric and now it was done for. 

And in those weeks, you’d felt like nothing was in your control. Younghoon had found a way to insult you twice, once with Juyeon standing right there. Though he’d stepped in and defended you, it seemed half-assed. As if he was trying to be diplomatic but his words weren’t with real meaning. It was yet another reminder that you and Juyeon lacked much real care for each other. You wondered if he ever really did, or if the doomed relationship you’d had with almost pure sex and unsober thoughts had always just been one-sided. 

You were very certain, especially now, that Juyeon never loved you. But you could still care for someone without loving them, and yet you were starting to wonder if you’d meant so little that he hadn’t even cared. It made you question why you’d been in a relationship at all, if not just for the similar bank balances and the sex you’d once deemed good enough to satisfy you. 

At one point, it had been good. You and Juyeon had been far from perfect, but it had worked. It had worked until it didn’t, and when it didn’t, it really didn’t. Deciding to be friends had been easy at the time, the consequences were barely existing because you still got to fuck him when either of you pleased, and yet now it all seemed to sink in in a far aftermath. It worked on delay, and your tumultuous feelings threatened to tumble over the moment Juyeon simply tried to keep the peace between you and Younghoon.

It had nearly made you cry, but you straightened your posture and adjusted your hair with a smile on your face as you thanked him instead and sent Younghoon a look that told him you hated him just as much, you just wouldn’t say it. Why you hated each other, you couldn’t quite say. Aside from his arrogance and way of looking at you like you were a whore on the streets and sending daggers at you in the form of words that were sometimes so smartly phrased, you were almost envious that you hadn’t come up with them yourself. 

On top of Younghoon’s insults, Juyeon making you feel less loved and Chanhee and you being in a strange little place of not really talking but sharing glances almost to ask if the other was okay, Hyunjae had also run your way with the offer of an invitation to a party. 

A perfect distraction. A much-needed one, definitely. You needed to unwind, desperately, to get really drunk and find a one-night stand that you’d wake up without and barely remember the next day. You would’ve loved to get it all out of your system while not thinking of any of them. 

You should’ve known better than to assume things would go as planned. 

It was one thing for Changmin to show up at Hyunjae’s house without an invite, though Hyunjae tended to be kind and hospitable in that regard unless he absolutely hated someone or if they’d wronged him in some way. Changmin had done neither. 

It was a whole other thing for Juyeon to grab your wrist so harshly it bruised your skin, his fingers wrapped around as he stung the surface. You were shocked at first, mostly because Juyeon was a lot of things but aggressive in that regard was rare, but when you looked up into his eyes and saw a genuinely angry gaze, you didn’t really understand. 

“Why is Changmin outside asking for you?”

“Don’t touch her like that!” Chanhee was smaller than Juyeon, both fairly slim in build but a difference in height and muscle mass that just made your best friend that much smaller in appearance, and yet he stepped between you two anyway. Chanhee was never really afraid of anything, even if he could get his ass kicked, and it was as admirable as it was stupid. 

“I asked you a question.”

“I don’t know,” it was weak, but it was honest, and Juyeon let your wrist go but you were more thinking it had something to do with Hyunjae standing on the opposite side of Chanhee, ready to defend you too. It almost shocked you more, for Juyeon and Hyunjae were incredibly close, had been for years and even before you were in the picture, and yet here it didn’t seem to matter when you felt unsafe. 

“Tell me why!” 

“I said I don’t know, Juyeon!” 

Silence. At least around you both, everything fell quiet. The music was still loud but those within ear shot had caught you both raising your voices, and now you were left having to keep appearances. Acting like nothing was wrong was something you were usually good at. Not caring is something you could do, but when everything threatened to topple over and one thing finally pushed your feelings over the edge to do so, it was hard to simply ignore it. 

“I can go to him,” Hyunjae offers, but you stop him the second he takes a step with your hand to his chest. 

“It’s fine. I’ll just go,” honestly, it was already a nightmare that he was asking for you so publicly at a party with so many people, but maybe if you played your cards right, it wouldn’t look so bad on your part. You weren’t friends, after all, so you supposed it wouldn’t appear to be that way. Sure, people could be fooled, but only if you played a viable part in it, and you wouldn’t.

Walking outside was a mistake. But when you realised it to be one, it was too late. Turning back might be worse, but walking towards Changmin wasn’t better. He was standing there, completely wet from the rain in a jacket that had no hood. You bit back from calling him stupid, moreso because you’d left your jacket inside entirely and it was cold. Despite the goosebumps on your skin, you refused to show discomfort, collecting yourself with a straightened posture in your short dress. 

You stood tall, heels high enough that he was actually a little shorter than you, though it was only really noticeable because you were right in front of each other. 

“I brought it for you,” the white garment is neatly folded between his fingers, and you note their softness, that they seem gentle to touch but you snap yourself away from the thought once you notice yourself having it. 

“You brought it for me… here?” 

You sound more ungrateful than you are. It’s the first time you actually reprimand yourself for the rude tone towards him because it’s not deserved this time, but you don’t quite take it back, reaching for the fabric slowly before you let it fall open to reveal a hoodie that looks good as new. 

There’s no way in hell he did that himself.

“You can stop bothering me now,” he lights a cigarette, indifferent and suddenly the insulting tone you’d spoken in doesn’t feel as mean, for he doesn’t seem to care much. If he does, he’s very good at hiding it, to the point of being so good at it that you don’t believe it possible. 

“Thanks,” all you can think about is how cold you are now, especially when the fabric is partially warm from where he’d held it and the fact that you know how comfortable this hoodie is. But you were at a party and it would fall awkwardly over your dress. You didn’t want to look awkward, so you choose to be cold instead.

“You should wear it. You’ll get sick,” you send a look his way, confused as a pout falls over your stained lips but again, he seems indifferent. He really, genuinely, doesn’t seem to care. 

It drives you insane. 

You want to say something, take the chance for once to not be rude and maybe try again to thank him because as frustrating as he is, he was kind enough to get it sorted for you, after weeks of back and forth and refusal of giving him his own hoodie back. Overall, maybe Changmin did show you kindness, albeit very terribly.

“I’d like mine back now,” you supposed that was fair, but the little candle of lit warmth faded to ashes because Changmin simply didn’t stop there. He bit back, and he did so hard in a way you knew to do, but weren’t prepared for now “but if you’d like I can wait. I’m sure you have Juyeon’s dick to ride first.”

The crushing blow to your chest feels foreign. It was something expected to hear yet not from him. Maybe as a joke from Chanhee or an insult from Younghoon, but not him. You weren’t sure why. Neither of you showed much kindness to each other and you couldn’t exactly say you’d expected him to be graceful in speaking to you, but you’d wished it. 

“Fuck you.”

It’s an absolutely terrible idea to do as Changmin said. You know it, yet you storm off now wet from the rain to go inside and find the very person that would be a mistake. You know he’s a mistake. He’d left insulting bruises on your wrist just minutes ago and yet you find him in the kitchen pouring another mix of alcohol that has you convinced he’s at least reached a point where the alcohol no longer has to taste good to be drunk. 

“Fuck me,” he turns, eyes sharp and dark but also just a hint of confusion. 

“What?”

“Do I have to say it again?”

Juyeon shakes his head, a smirk appearing on his lips instead as he downs the little he’d managed to mix so far in his cup. You followed his gaze to a bottle of whiskey that was nearly empty and you reached for the puddle of golden brown liquid to down it, his eyes on you the entire time as you did so. 

He waits for you to put the glass down and when you’ve done so, he lifts you up with his hands digging into the back of your upper thigh, the skirt of your dress rising so high you use your hoodie to cover up where your skin is revealed. This was already a mistake, you knew it to be so deep down, but you didn’t care. 

Maybe you wanted to somehow prove that Juyeon did care about you. Or maybe you just wanted to spite Changmin. Maybe you just needed sex because your libido was high and you weren’t having enough of it. 

Maybe it was all three. 

You don’t know which bedroom you’re in but Juyeon is lazy in shutting the door, nearly forgetting to do so before he kicks it shut with the back of his foot. He’s quick to kiss you, sloppy and wet as you drop the clean white hoodie to the floor, discarding it just as Juyeon works on lifting the frustratingly tight fabric up to your hips. 

“You’re not wearing underwear?”

You shake your head, wriggling out of the straps of your dress to push it down over your now bare chest, the little fabric on your body all bunched up above your ass and below your chest. You were essentially naked, and yet not quite, wrapping your legs around Juyeon’s waist as he fell on top of you and kissed you back.

You loved kissing. Especially when it was rough and desperate. Necessary like oxygen that you breathed. You loved Juyeon’s kisses, the way he bit your lower lip and roughly rocked against you, though the fabric of his pants against your bare thighs was rough and made you whine in frustration and discomfort. 

At least Juyeon wasn’t entirely stupid in realising what the problem was, maybe usually willing and eager to tease and take his time a little more but now he was stripping himself bare so that the friction against both your warm skins wouldn’t hurt for you. 

“What the hell did he want?”

You cursed. You cursed because you did not need to think about Changmin when Juyeon’s dick was right there, and yet he’d asked the question. He sounded bitter, angry, but not quite jealous. Maybe if it had been jealousy, you would’ve been okay with it. 

“Was just giving me back the hoodie he ruined,” your hand wraps around his cock, stroking him lazily as he inhales sharply, a rough moan right by your ear before he bites down on your neck. Harder than you’re used to, but not enough to fully hurt. 

Your body was used to his cock. You realise it more because when he pushes into you, the sting is sharp but easy to adjust to. The first time you’d had sex with Juyeon, you’d needed way more time and he’d given it to you. But now it was second nature and your body knew him. Your body clung to him, desperate to hold. 

“You’re such a whiny little whore, d’you know that?” 

If the dick wasn’t good, you’d slap him. Though you supposed he wasn’t saying it entirely without reasoning. You were whiny. That, and you were loud, unintentionally so as he picked up the pace, gripping your hip with his free hand to slam into you, your breasts pushing up from the force as your head tilted back in pleasure. 

Sex with Juyeon was lazy, definitely without much care but it was good for what it was. He was rough and careless but you trusted him to never hurt you, and if he ever unintentionally did you knew he’d stopped if you asked. You trusted him, despite all his flaws, to see you like this, with your body near bare and vulnerable to him and anything he wished as he spread your legs and pushed you into the mattress. 

It was natural and comforting, to find repetition in your behaviour with Juyeon. It was nice when things didn’t change, because change was something that didn’t find you very content.

“H-harder- ah-” your back arches just slightly, and Juyeon takes that moment to wrap both his hands on the side of your hips, digging his nails into the skin as he obeys your demand, your legs clinging to him. The sound of skin roughly meeting repeatedly is loud and penetrating, only covered by the vulgarity of the noises you make. If it weren’t for the loud music yet again, you’re sure everyone could hear you. 

Changmin. Could he hear you? 

The very thought of him pushes the orgasm you’d initially been building away, because you’re shocked. Why is he in your thoughts so suddenly, with his warm comforting hoodie over his skin that seemed so soft, with a far gentler touch than Juyeon’s?

Not that you minded Juyeon’s touch, but you imagined Changmin’s to be different, even if it might be rough. 

You imagined his glasses slipping from behind his ears as he hovered over you, and you wondered if he’d try to adjust them first or if you’d eventually just take them off for him, lay them somewhere to the side while spreading your legs for him. 

You wondered what it was like, very briefly, to run your hands through his dark hair and tug on it harshly as he fucked into you, his heavy breaths against your ear as you both shook in a joint orgasm as he came inside you. 

You wondered what it was like, how different he was from Juyeon and if so, if it was better. 

You can’t quite catch your tongue fast enough when your orgasm grows, not with your thoughts overlapping and twisting in your head and making you wonder about someone you’d never want near you this intimately. Or did you?

“C-Changmin- fuck!”

Your nails dig so hard into Juyeon’s back that you know there will be moonlike crevices on his skin, scratching down into a jagged line as your body shakes, your legs unstable and locked against the man who’s completely still. He’s unmoving, completely, and it takes you another moment of recollection to realise Juyeon didn’t finish. 

You can’t say you blame him, when realisation and embarrassment and utter humiliation covers your crimson cheeks. Of all the names, you chose the worst offender. And despite alcohol being in your system, you knew you couldn’t blame it on that. 

You’d just committed social suicide to a man you knew wouldn’t keep his mouth shut when he was hurt. And you could tell on his face that there was a pain in his eyes that even you couldn’t say you recognised. He felt insulted, and when you went to move up on the bed to reach him, he pushed off you so fast you thought he detested you. 

“Don’t touch me,” it was stern, his tone so cold that you thought he hated you. Juyeon very well could and you weren’t so sure you could blame him. You knew if he’d done this to you, said someone else’s name, that it would cut a wound into you that would never go away and every thought of am I enough would threaten to break you. 

You watched in an almost entranced state, the way he picked up all his clothes, and your few attempts at adjusting yourself and walking towards him failed because he slapped your hand away every time. 

“Ju- I’m sorry. It’s not what… I- Juyeon.”

He stops, picking up your white hoodie off the floor and shoving it against your chest similarly to how you’d done the same with Changmin when you gave it to him, and it cut you all over again. 

“Let me guess, you left this at his house when you let him fuck you?” 

You were shocked. Of course you knew it wasn’t true but how could you prove it? Yet your silence was Juyeon’s answer. His assumption that he was right as he bitterly scoffed and rolled his eyes at you like he loathed you. 

“I hope you truly end up miserable, Y/N. You deserve it, at this point,” the door slams loud and Juyeon’s gone, leaving you bare and vulnerable and so very lost as the very idea of your social circle and status dwindling into pieces, shattering beneath your feet, becomes a frightening reality to you. Everything you worked on attaining, on creating a you that everyone would envy and want, was potentially threatened with a secret that only you and him knew. 

A secret that would ruin you, and you knew well that he loved to run his mouth where it gained him sympathy. 

All you could do, was stand still naked with your hoodie covering you just enough in case someone came in, and yet no one did, not for a while. 

You were well and truly alone. 

act ii

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[wings-of-fire-confessions]

I personally think the wof mental health rep is a lot better than it seems at first glance.

I should say upfront that I'm not a professional, though one of my biggest interests is psychology and majority of the conditions I talk in this post I either have or have traits of (and I'll clarify which I don't).

Whiteout is the only canonical neurodivergent character as far as I know, having associative synesthesia, but many headcanoning her to be autistic. I haven't read the books in a long while, but from what I remember I can agree, though I'm not autistic (despite meeting criteria... long story) so I won't for sure say if I think her traits are enough for a diagnosis or not (again, haven't read the books recently), but everyone seems to think they are so I'll agree.

Hawthorn has psychotic symptoms, which I think is important to represent since people with psychosis (whether that be from being on the schizophrenia spectrum or some other reason) are very often put in a bad light. Hawthorn is too, to an extent, but that's more so due to the Breath of Evil and not due to his psychotic symptoms, or from what I can remember, at least. I don't think Hawthorn has a mental disorder like schizophrenia since symptoms of psychosis can be caused by isolation (I'm not actually 100% sure if this is true, this is just something my psychologist told me), but I think the representation is still important either way. I relate to him a lot due to his symptoms.

Darkstalker very clearly shows symptoms of NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder), I don't think you can even argue that (sorry, narcissism anon from a month or so ago). I myself fit the criteria for NPD, and I definitely see myself in him. I doubt he can be diagnosed since he is still a child, but his symptoms might be extreme enough to warrant one, I'm not sure (coming from a minor who's doctors referred them for a personality disorder screening themself). Of the nine (9) criteria for NPD, just off memory he fit basically all of them. I won't go into all of it but I will definitely mention his splitting, seeing how he goes from loving Clearsight to thinking he can kill her if she doesn't meet his expectations. He also has the aspect of how it develops too, that being trauma (I recall Arctic being abusive to him which is definitely enough to warrant trauma), and being spoiled as a child (this could be my brain making things up but I swear this happened, or at least he was overly praised or something). So yeah, fairly sure he would have been diagnosed with NPD if he didn't eat the strawberry.

Moonwatcher seems to have social and separation anxiety. I like this, since I am diagnosed with both and they are both very difficult to live with, and I like seeing another character having it that I can relate to in that way. She also has symptoms of AVPD (just from what I remember), but she's only like... twelve (12) so there's no way she could be diagnosed.

Anemone, while not having any mental disorders specifically, still had a rough mental health journey so I think it's important to bring up. She grew up with her mother, Queen Coral, who was a complete helicopter parent, and likely never met her Father, King Gill. She was praised and adorned all her life, so it makes sense that when she was eventually separated from Coral, she acted out what she thought she deserved. While I think Darkstalker has NPD, I can't say the same for Anemone, since she was so young and it's normal for young children to have narcissistic traits. When she met Darkstalker, they clicked well due to both being animi and having... less than positive thoughts on the dragons around them. Darkstalker ended up lovebombing her, and telling her to leave when she got mad at Moon. She lashed out at Turtle afterwards, before they reconciled later. I thought this would be important to mention.

Peril likely has a few personality disorders as well, the most likely ones in my opinion being BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and DPD (Dependent Personality Disorder), which isn't surprising given her situation. She likely has tons of trauma so it's only natural for her to develop a traumagenic disorder. I say those in particular because of her rapidly changing thoughts and emotions and her over attachment to Clay, which I can definitely relate to given how I act with my DP (Dependent Person). I don't have BPD though I show traits (not sure if enough for a diagnosis or not) and I remember Peril showing traits too.

There's also a lot of dragons that probably have PTSD in some way, Fathom, Peril, and Jerboa III being the first ones that come to mind specifically.

I seriously think this is an important topic and I might make a video on it at some point. Like I said, I love psychology and I think it's interesting how it impacts characters from my favourite book series.

.

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

why do so many people keep calling ed izzy's abuser? I thought it was kind of funny how wrong they were at first because I love being right but at this point I feel like, if you really believe that why do you even like this show? where the main love interest is a violently abusive indigenous man? that sounds boring as shit. what would possess the writers of the show for them to make such an awful decision?

but then I think, if this many people believe it does that mean I'm the one who's wrong? or is it that the creators fumbled that storyline when they should have been clearer about it? or maybe it's just that most people on here have had their reading comprehension scorched away by Sherlock Holmes conspiracy theories and Steven Universe discourse. I can't tell. sometimes I think the internet may have been a mistake.

No they're wrong here's what's going on. People all read this shitty fic called Hell or High Water where Ed was everything the Izzy stans say he was and then instead of realizing that Ed is sad everyone regressed into thinking that the Kraken Era TM was going to be incredibly violent, like serial killing blond men because they look like Stede levels of violence. Even if you didn't read HoHW you saw art or read fic from people who had engaged with this fic and succumbed to it's premise. So there's been this background radiation of misunderstanding what the Kraken is on the fandom for several months. So inevitably when Ed did some mild violence and then attempted suicide by threatening murder until the crew took matters into their own hands, which is not abuse or torture by any stretch, btw, it's a murder-suicide at worst (I say at worst because I consider it fuckery-suicide I don't think Ed was trying to kill people I think he was trying to force them into a situation where they thought it was kill or be killed so that they would choose to kill him, but that is my interpretation and you are free to think it's a botched murder-suicide I have no problem with that), which, murder is something the show has never condemned and if it did it would be horribly inconsistent. So anyway, Ed's whole Kraken Era was categorized in the show by him being sad and doing so many drugs and begging someone please god anyone to kill him and trying to break Ned Low's record out of the evil boredom, but because it had a murder-suicide element to it and Izzy's toes were getting removed and he waved a gun around at everyone once (in a way that felt to me like he was trying and failing to work up the nerve to blow his own brains out but I digress) people who liked HoHW and were mad that people had called it out were like "see hes being violent HoHW author vindicated" as if anything Ed did rose to the level of that fic

And you want to know how I know this read is bullshit? Because when I watch the show with people who don't read fic or interact with the fandom and then I gauge their reactions without showing my hand they all implicitly understand that Ed is reacting to Izzy in a way appropriate to how pirate captains react to threats from subordinates. The spectrum of reactions has been from "hey isn't it weird how Ed was the Kraken because his dad was abusive and now he's the kraken because of Izzy? Maybe there's something there but idk" to "I don't think you can apply the logic of domestic abuse to a pirate captain and first mate but also Izzy had it coming" to "I cannot feel bad for Izzy after last season, I'm sorry." To "lmao Izcel" and I've showed this show to roughly everyone I know. The only thing I can conclude from the fact that people who don't engage with OFMD fic almost unilaterally thinking that Izzy is in the wrong and then coming online to see people thinking the opposite is that Izzy as victim and Ed as abuser is pure fanon, like how Stede is a cinnamon roll who talks like Azeriphael.

But anyway yeah you're completely right about the fact that this would be a bad show if they decided to make Ed into a domestic abuser. I don't want to watch a rom com about a domestic abuser falling in love and I don't want a show that decided to make it's indigenous lead abusive when the stereotype of indigenous men as abusers is still to this day used as an excuse to separate indigenous children from their families and put them with white Christians in order to erase their culture. Good thing OFMD didn't make Ed abusive, so I still like the show.

[thousand-winters]

Something I love about TOH is how it lets adults be wrong and make mistakes and be whole messes that do not have their shit together because... yeah, that's just life. Adults aren't so put together as one believes when they're a child, and of course they can act rashly and fuck up because of their emotions and generally experience the entire spectrum of human emotion.

It would be lovely if the fandom would be less racist about it tho.

It keeps driving me mad to think about because with characters of color, one mistake is taken and generalized as their entire behavior despite having proof that it was a one time thing, a extreme born out of emotion or after many things have happened, while for white characters it's well understood it was a one time instance.

Nobody took Eda's "I'm going to break every bone of your body" toward King (who, mind you, is like 8yo and the kid she raised since he was a baby) seriously, nor said "Eda totally threatens King with bodily harm every time she's angry". It wasn't a serious threat, King wasn't bothered by her because he knew that, and the world kept spinning, nobody made a bigger deal of that than it had to be, despite the fact that it's objectively a horrible thing to say to your kid.

Nobody said either "every time Eda is feeling unneeded, she avoids talking to her kids and ignores them for days and then attempts murder-suicide on the name of good", although the avoidance aspect of it at least IS more in tune with her general lack of coping mechanisms.

Now, Camila making Luz go to camp? Suddenly she was the devil and evil, and Eda should take full custody of Luz, despite the fact Camila was shown as gentle and loving since moment one, and your kid endangering other kids by bringing live snakes and fireworks to school is objectively something alarming that can't be swept under the rug. There was no point at which Camila was depicted as anything but loving and concerned, even during Grom, Luz's fear was about hurting Camila rather than Camila hurting her and yet people insisted she was abusive until Thanks to Them.

Even after Yesterday's Lie. I mean, Luz is 14. I don't know about you, but if I had a kid known for being a bit careless and reckless and act first before thinking, I would be worried sick knowing she's in a land where half the things alive try to eat you and it's also ruled by a genocidal emperor. Hell, even if my kid wasn't reckless, I would be clawing at the walls about it. Camila wasn't being evil for wanting Luz to stay by her side, especially since they only had each other.

Then, of course, there's Darius.

I'm so sick of people being condescending to people who like Dadrius, even in art posts, all like "guys, but don't forget Darius was shitty to Hunter for years", because it's exactly what I'm talking about of taking one event and extrapolating it toward his entire behavior despite the fact the information we have been provided indicates that was a one time thing. Not only we have the Palisman Logs that confirm Darius usually didn't pay attention to Hunter, which, mind you, isn't a crime because he had no responsibility over Hunter and everyone thought Hunter was being treated well by Belos, but we also have the hint of Darius reacting so viciously because of Hunter sewing the Golden Guard's sigil on his cloak and reminding him of his mentor, which is not something that happened every thursday.

I know everyone understands actions born out of emotion in adults, no matter how wrong they are, because of Eda and even some of the other adults who objectively speaking did way worse in the matter of mistakes toward their children, like Gwen or Alador. Yet, people keep refusing to believe that Darius only did that once but nobody ever says "yes, here are the examples and clues that he was this way for years" (because they do not exist) and just keep repeating that he did or that he has the vibes of someone who did (bestie, that's just racism).

It's so strange because Hunter is not stupid. He knew to be on guard of Kikimora and Kikimora was always shitty to him. He can take a clue, he's not a baby. He refused to accept the help of the Owl Fam and the Hexsquad for a good while because they were "the enemy" and in his head he had the idea that he shouldn't trust them even if he wanted to. Hunter's behavior is affected deeply by Belos' abuse, but he wasn't reacting to everyone in the way he did to Belos, excusing their behavior and generally letting them all walk all over him.

If Darius really had picked on him for years, he wouldn't have been so quick to trust him after Any Sport in a Storm, and we got a bunch of little mentions and hints that point to how their bond started to grow behind curtains, which would be really weird if Darius had always been an overly hostile presence in Hunter's life before. Can you imagine him being all chill with Kikimora if she had hypothetically went "oh, well, I guess I was wrong for trying to murder you"? Hell no.

Even Perry and the Parks didn't got spared from this.

Of course their reactions to their kids getting expelled could have been more graceful, but they were evidently not thinking super clearly at the moment and every other moment we've seen them with their kids, they have been loving and supportive. Hell, even in that same episode we saw how the Parks were, if anything, more concerned about Willow's education to the point they were willing to change their whole life to be able to stay to homeschool her.

Adults make mistakes. People make mistakes.

Stop acting like people of color can't make mistakes without being the epitome of evil.

[tavyliasin]

Disability Pride Essays - Gale, Neurodivergency, and Chronic Illnesses

The third of the disability parallel essays is going to focus on everyone’s favourite wizard, the legend of Waterdeep, Gale Dekarios. Immediately I can hear the neurodivergent (ND) side of fandom sitting up and pointing at the screen: “He’s like me!” and you’re absolutely right, but there is even more to him than this too! Gale can arguably represent several chronic physical conditions as well as being the chosen of the god of Autism. Sorry, god of Magic. Both? It’s probably both, isn’t it…

So with this in mind we will be discussing neurodiversity as well as long term chronic conditions and “spoon theory” (don’t worry if you don’t know what that is yet, we’re going to go over it along with “spell slot theory” in a way that might help abled people understand how many of us manage long term illness). I may also touch on the plot point around the Orb and Gale’s fluctuating relationship with his will to live, as well as the desperation to find a cure - so please be aware that if these are things you may find to be triggering. As always, look after yourselves and each other first and foremost. And, of course, your input and thoughts on these topics are more than welcome!

What is Gale’s Disability?

Gale has several conditions that we can see affecting him in the game. Whilst “armchair diagnosis” of real people can be a harmful exercise, and not something we would usually encourage, when we look at him and his behaviours it is easy to see a lot of traits common in Neurodivergent people. So this can mean Autism Spectrum Disorders as well as ADD/ADHD traits, though as anyone with either (or both) diagnosis will likely tell you, these can vary wildly from person to person. The same diagnosis can present completely differently between two people, so we will be looking at specific traits rather than an overall diagnosis for Gale. A more subtle thing shown with Gale is some joint pain, stiffness - he will complain about his knees aching when rain is due, and generally casually describes a lot of aches and pains that are common with ageing as well as in chronic conditions that affect joints. This is potentially easily missed as it’s in just a few lines of dialogue here and there and some background conversation, but we can see it sometimes too in how he moves and reacts. And then, of course, there is the Netherese Orb… One not quite so fun little fact here too is that in the real world there can be a lot of overlap between chronic pain conditions and neurodiversity. Not necessarily causative, and there’s no strongly established link that I’m aware of, but it isn’t uncommon at all to come across in disabled and ND communities. I’m sure more research can be done into specific genetic conditions that may have a stronger and potentially causative link to them, but that would be going too far down the wrong rabbithole for now. Did I mention I have ADHD? What do you mean “obviously”?...

How Do We See The Disability In The Game?

With Neurodiversity, a lot of the “problem” from the condition does not actually come from the person themselves but in how the world and people around them react to them and their behaviours. We can see this in the player base, where some people just cannot stand Gale’s infodumping or talking in depth about his special interests in magic, or how they find some of his personality and interactions to be more frustrating than endearing. There’s also how he was treated by Mystra - if we remove the relationship and abusive part of that for now, he went from being a gifted student, a prodigy in his field, to being rejected and cut loose from that validation.

Plenty of players found they disliked Gale, that his romantic advances and compliments to them were unwelcome and “too much”. In terms of Neurodiversity, Gale is expressing himself relatively openly with his feelings, and could potentially be seen as attaching to the player on a deeper level as a “favourite person” which can be a trait for some. Of course this was changed in the game to a degree after some backlash from those who weren’t keen on him expressing romantic interest after very little interaction, but not all of that is gone from his interactions or the speed with which he forms a strong attachment to someone he trusts. Then there is his “specialised diet”, which in this case is that need to consume magic objects. Honestly there are several ways we can look at this one. From a more literal point of view, we can consider him as literally eating the items like a food source which might be akin to people desiring to eat non-food items. It could also be similar to having “safe foods” which are things that have familiar flavours and textures. However the theory I find most interesting around the “consumption” of magic items is thinking of it more as medicinal.

Either way, Gale needs regular “doses” of the “cure” to stave off some very visceral symptoms. We not only see the relief when he is able to take the “cure” by consuming the item, but we also see the pain and struggle if too much time is left between “doses”. It’s shown in his character model, how he holds himself, you can hear it in his voice breaking as he’s overwhelmed by the symptoms of the Karsite Weave trying to eat away at him. If he doesn’t find any help from the player, too, he will simply leave to find his own solution. There isn’t a choice to just “ignore it and it will go away” - much like any serious illness it needs to be treated or it will get worse.

How Does This Reflect Real Life?

The real life reflections of Neurodivergency are quite easy to see for those of us familiar with those feelings and behaviour patterns. I could spend a while going over them, but then in my experience the fans who are deep enough into the fandom to be reading an essay of this length dissecting the character and the nuances of him…well, if you’re still reading and you’re neurotypical then I will be a little surprised. I mean this in a lighthearted way, of course, I’m sure there are a good number of neurotypical fans and those interested in this kind of topic (in fact it would be lovely for more NT people to spend a little time listening and learning when possible) but there is a very strong correlation between those of us who are ND and having a hyperfixation on one topic. A little like Gale’s hyperfixation on magic and learning everything about it, even to his detriment. It’s a special interest - he could never be satisfied just knowing most things about magic, he needed to know everything. That’s how he ended up in the situation with the Netherese Orb - he found a problem and became quite fixated and determined to solve it. That’s what problems are for, after all, to be solved. And he did it all with good intention, hope, and unfortunately without thinking through the greater consequences either. The single-minded devotion to a task, without seeing the bigger picture, can be a boon as much as it is a curse to ND people. The pain is also one that will feel familiar to people in the real world - whether through age or chronic conditions, this can often be affected by things like the weather and changes in temperature and air pressure. We need more rest, we complain casually, we make small pained noises when we move, and we adjust our actions to fit our needs. In some ways, we could see Gale’s need for magical items to stave off the condition the Orb gives him is like a need for insulin or similar long term medicines. It’s not optional and the consequences of putting it off - or avoiding it entirely - can be dangerous or even deadly. The way he feels around the outcome there could also be similar. Whilst in the real world someone isn’t going to just explode and take out a 10 mile radius with them if they don’t get their medication in time, if they were to pass away then the loss would be felt keenly amongst those around them, leaving an impact on their loved ones. 

Neurodiversity

There is just so much we can say about neurodiversity, but rather than dissecting it piece by piece I think it might be better to take this opportunity to reflect on how meaningful and validating it can be to see these traits in characters we love. These aren’t things that are shown to be flaws or undesirable, simply a part of the entire personality of the character - connecting can really just be, well, validating. That’s the thing with representation. It’s not about making a huge fanfare over every little thing, it’s integrating characters and character traits naturally and treating them normally - the way that we would rather like it if the real world around us might do. It’s also a way to learn to love ourselves through the love of the character - to think something like “I adore listening to him ramble on about his favourite topic” and perhaps feel a little less self-conscious when we ourselves talk more in depth over a hyperfixation or special interest. Something like, oh I don’t know, writing a long series of essays about subtle disability representation in a popular video game…

Chronic Illness and Spell Slots

This is where it gets interesting with the comparison to game mechanics. An old theory that people have used to describe the long term impact of chronic illness is “spoon theory”. Spoon Theory was a way that a chronically ill person described their energy levels to a friend to help them understand more clearly how we have different limits. So the idea is at the start of a day, you have a certain amount of “spoons”. Every task in the day requires one of these spoons to be used - that might be going to the shop to buy food, taking a shower, going to work, socialising with someone, making an important phone call, or even something as simple as getting dressed. You have to be careful where you use those spoons, because once they’re all gone, that’s it. No more. You can’t just get more from nowhere, and if you try to borrow one of tomorrow’s spoons you’ll have even less for that next day. A newer and far more accurate comparison, at least in my opinion, is spell slots. So different tasks are like different spells, and might take a certain level of spell slot to complete.

Easy tasks we can repeat a lot without trouble, like perhaps talking to a friend online or taking a nap, those are like cantrips. We can do them whenever we need to. Small tasks might be a level 1 or 2 spell slot, which we have more of, but a large task that is very tiring and/or causes a lot of pain need a level 5 spell slot. And there’s the trick - you can spend your level 5 slot on a lower level task, potentially doing more than you might usually do with that task, but you can’t spend a level 2 slot on a level 5 task. 

There’s no way to refresh those spell slots without adequate rest, too. In the tabletop version of D&D if you’re suffering levels of exhaustion or don’t get the right amount of uninterrupted rest, you won’t get back all of your spell slots. Which is quite accurate to real life, where not getting what you need means you may not be fully refreshed and replenished for the new day either. 

When we talk about chronic illness too, depending on the person there might well be things that would be cantrips for other people - things that don’t feel like they expend any real energy at all to do - which take a whole spell slot for us. Having a shower might make an abled person feel refreshed and energised, but someone with a chronic illness might instead feel drained and tired after expending that energy. This can apply to both physical tasks and mental or social energy too. People who are introverted will likely understand when I say that for some of us it takes away our energy to socialise with others and we need time alone doing our own thing to recover some of that. Extroverts might find this strange, as they more often feel like a positive social interaction is energising to them and gives them a real boost.

So there you have it, spell slots! A way that might make it easier to explain how tasks take energy, and how we’re simply not able to conjure more energy out of thin air.

The Cure and The Desperation

I’ll preface this section straight away with a very simple part - most neurodiversity neither wants nor needs a cure. What’s needed is understanding and adaptation, patience and compassion to work with what the individual needs in order to succeed. Child has a special interest? Let them indulge that passion and learn all they can about it, that might become their career or long term hobby later in life and bring them a great deal of happiness and satisfaction. This section, when we’re talking about a cure, it’s for those chronic conditions that cause suffering. The parallel being how Gale researches and is willing to trade anything to end the agony that the Orb causes him. He’s ready to throw his whole life away because the torment is too much, until another option becomes available. Even when there are other choices, he’s still willing to detonate, potentially because he feels he has become a hindrance or a burden to those he loves. This…honestly this is something that those with complex and/or long term care needs can struggle with. It is hard not to feel like a burden when you need someone else to take care of menial every day tasks on your behalf, or need to keep asking for aid from those around you.  That’s where the right support is absolutely vital. In those lower times, to remember in ourselves and sometimes to hear from others that they choose to care for us and that there is more we bring to the world. That our worth is not tied to what we can and cannot do, but instead in who we are and what our presence means to those who love us as we are.

It’s something we don’t always talk about, even within disabled communities, because these are deep and difficult feelings within ourselves and we don’t want to inadvertently cause more upset in those who are struggling or have been affected by loss of this kind. So to see that reflected too, the sorrow, the struggle, those very heartfelt and genuine conversations with Gale as he weighs up his options…that’s important to recognise too. Particularly for abled people to try to understand the depth and complexity of our feelings around the exhaustion of dealing with an illness that never goes away - we want to live, but sometimes we feel the weight of that struggle burying the will to keep fighting it. Even if the condition itself is stable, not degenerative, and not deadly, it is still a burden to ourselves. 

What We Can Learn From Gale’s Story

Gale’s parallels to disability are complex, but there’s a lot worth learning from it. Whether it is about fully loving someone’s eccentricities and neurodivergent traits, or learning to understand chronic health through the lens of spell slots, it’s important to know more about ourselves and those around us. For Gale, I see so much of people finding him to be a comfort - “he’s like me”, “I can relate to him” - and that’s what we need. Of course not every person playing the game will feel a connection to him, or even like him as a character, but he is there and to a lot of us he has been an important and meaningful influence through his story. We can also look at the different ways his story can end - several options all quite drastically removed from each other. The ambition is a cautionary tale, the temptation of a “simple fix” is another when the crown can arguably lead to worse endings either under Mystra or losing sight of the better parts of himself beneath the allure of power and godhood. I could probably ramble on for another thousand or so words, but I’ll leave it here for now, with that reflection on everything he can mean to different people and disabilities.

Remember to be kind to yourself, and allow proper recovery of your spell slots before you try to spend levels you don’t have available.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Incomplete vs. overshoot

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in Seattle (Feb 26) with Neal Stephenson, then Portland, Phoenix and more!

You know the "horseshoe theory," right? "The far-left and the far-right, rather than being at opposite and opposing ends of a linear continuum of the political spectrum, closely resemble each other, analogous to the way that the opposite ends of a horseshoe are close together":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horseshoe_theory

It's a theory that only makes sense if you don't know much about the right and the left and what each side wants out of politics.

Take women's suffrage. The early suffragists ("suffragettes" in the UK) were mostly interested in votes for affluent, white women – not women as a body. Today's left criticizes the suffrage movement on the basis that they didn't go far enough:

https://www.npr.org/2011/03/25/134849480/the-root-how-racism-tainted-womens-suffrage

Contrast that with Christian Dominionists – the cranks who think that embryos are people (though presumably not for the purpose of calculating a state's electoral college vote? Though it would be cool if presidential elections turned on which side of a state line a fertility clinic's chest-freezer rested on):

https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/segments/how-alabama-ivf-ruling-was-influenced-christian-nationalism-on-the-media?tab=summary

These people are part of a far-right coalition that wants to abolish votes for women. As billionaire far-right bagman Peter Thiel wrote that he thought it was a mistake to let women vote at all:

https://www.cato-unbound.org/2009/04/13/peter-thiel/education-libertarian/

Superficially, there's some horseshoe theory action going on here. The left thinks the suffragists were wrong. The right thinks they were wrong, too. Therefore, the left and the right agree!

Well, they agree that the suffragists were wrong, but for opposite reasons – and far, far more importantly, they totally disagree about what they want. The right wants a world where no women can vote. The left wants a world where all women can vote. The idea that the right and the left agree on women's suffrage is, as the physicists say, "not even wrong."

It's the kind of wrong that can only be captured by citing scripture, specifically, A Fish Called Wanda, 6E, 79: "The central message of Buddhism is not 'Every man for himself.' And the London Underground is not a political movement. Those are all mistakes, Otto. I looked them up."

Or take the New Deal. While the New Deal set its sites on liberating workers from precarity, abuse and corruption, the Dealers – like the suffragists – had huge gaps in their program, omitting people of color, indigenous people, women, queer people, etc. There are lots of leftists who criticize the New Deal on this basis: it didn't go far enough:

https://livingnewdeal.org/new-deal-and-race/

But for the past 40 years, America has seen a sustained, vicious assault on New Deal programs, from Social Security to Medicare to food stamps to labor rights to national parks, funded by billionaires who want to bring back the Gilded Age and turn us all into forelock-tugging plebs:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/06/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom/

If you only view politics as a game of elementary school cliques, you might say that the left and the right are meeting again. The left says Roosevelt got it wrong with the New Deal (because he left out so many people). The right says FDR was wrong for doing the New Deal in the first place. Therefore, the left and the right agree, right?

Obviously wrong. Obviously. Again, the important thing is why the left and the right think the New Deal deserves criticism. The important thing is what the left and the right want. The left wants universal liberation. The right wants us all in economic chains. They do not agree.

It's not always just politics, either. Take the old, good internet. That was an internet defined by technological self-determination, a wild and wooly internet where there were few gatekeepers, where disfavored groups could find each other and make common cause, where users who were threatened by the greed of the shareholders behind big services could install blockers, mods, alternative clients and other "adversarial interoperability" tools that seized the means of computation.

Today's enshitternet – "five giant websites, filled with screenshots of the other four" (h/t Tom Eastman) – is orders of magnitude more populous than that old, good internet. The enshitternet has billions of users, and they are legally – and technologically – prevented from taking any self-help measures when the owners of services change them to shift value from users to themselves:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

The anti-enshittification movement rightly criticizes the old, good internet because it wasn't inclusive enough. It was a system almost exclusively hospitable to affluent, privileged people – the people who least needed the liberatory power of technology.

Likewise pro-enshittification monopolists – billionaires and their useful idiots – deplore the old, good internet because it gave its users too much power. For them, ad-blocking, alternative clients, mods, reverse-engineering and so on were all bugs, not features. For them, the enshitternet is great because businesses can literally criminalize taking action to protect yourself from their predatory impulses:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

Superficially, it seems like the pro- and anti-enshittification forces agree – they both agree that the old, good internet was a mistake. But the difference that matters here is that the pro-enshittification side wants everyone mired in the enshitternet forever, living with what Jay Freeman calls "Felony contempt of business-model." By contrast, the disenshittification side wants a new, good internet that gives every user – not just a handful of techies – the power to decide how the digital systems they work use, and to be able to alter or reconfigure them to suit their own needs.

The horsehoe theory only makes sense if you don't take into account the beliefs and goals of each side. Politics aren't just a matter of who you agree with on a given issue – the real issue is what you're trying to accomplish.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/26/horsehoe-crab/#substantive-disagreement

[redysetdare]

No you're so right I fucking hate the "aces have it so much better than aros" part of the community. Just because more people know the word asexual than aromantic doesn't mean aces are treated better than aros by the society?? More people know the word asexual yes, but they don't really understand what it means to be on the asexual spectrum, and they try to paint us in the worst light possible. That's like saying binary trans people have it much better than nonbinary people, or trans women have it much better than trans men due to more visibility. Some people in the aro community want there to be a hierarchy of non-aro aces > aroaces > non-ace aros so bad because they just want to be acephobic and get away with it. And they're barely even hiding that anymore nowadays.

Sorry for this angry rant, sometimes it just feels like everyone, even other aspec people absolutely despise aroaces.

I really need people to acknowledge that a group being more visible does not make them more accepted or better treated than a group that is invisible. You think we'd learn this after this argument has been used against so many identities but noooope. I guess not. The thing is that visibility can still be bad because being visible to your oppressors just makes you an easier target. the words homosexual, gay, and lesbian were all known way before asexual and you know what that visibility did? it mostly got them targeted and attacked - especially by laws and the medical field. Autism is a label that's been known for decades and people STILL treat Autism like a bad word and a terrible thing to be labeled.

People are just starting to figure out the word asexual and they are using that to actively target asexuals. The Ace discourse era around 2016 was AWFUL and it was because people learned the term asexual and decided we were just "Straight people trying to be special" or "incel freaks" or "Just sad virgins" It was considered cool and fun to mock and harass asexuals. it was common for people to create fake ace blogs to make us look bad. There are still dog whistles being posted around that mock and belittle asexuals that people treat as silly jokes. People still tell aces to shut up and not complain. People who harassed aces of tumblr act like their part in the ace discourse era was just a quirky little thing they did and not a genuine issue that they refuse to acknowledge and any ace who brings it up gets told to get the fuck over it.

It ignored the fact that asexuals have the highest stat in conversion therapy. it ignores the stat that corrective rape happens majority to asexuals. it ignored the fact that many asexuals end up getting broken up with or divorced for being asexual because so many people are unwilling to compromise in a relationship that isn't sexual. Many Aces feel forced to have sex with their partners because not doing so gets them labeled as abusive. Asexuality is still considered by most doctors to be a disorder that needs to be fixed and so it can be dangerous to bring it up lest your doctor actively try to focus on it as a main issue. Therapists assume your asexuality is a trauma response and may aces have to keep their asexuality under wraps lest their therapists start to focus only on that instead of their other issues. Yes, people know the term asexual. But that does not mean they Accept asexuals. some people use the knowledge of that term to target and attack asexuals.

No one has it better. we all just face different issues and to claim one group is some how more accepted than another is naive at best and outright malicious at worst and genuinely some of these people are getting way to close to repeating ace discourse era arguments and it's really getting to me because the call SHOULD NOT be coming from INSIDE THE FUCKING HOUSE.

[barkly-523]

About Dutch van der Linde

Hello tumblr rdr space! I do not go here, but I post on tiktok sometimes and have a dear buddy of mine who ive been talking to about some posts on here!

I will post a proper introduction at a later date, but for now I would like to put my own two cents in on some stuff ive been seeing recently, about Dutch.

Dutch is an incredibly COMPLEX character, and I feel that some people really horrifically miss that point sometimes. whether it be "Oh, he bonked his head!" or "Oh, this man is a monster!" both points are on opposite ends of the spectrum, but I believe they greatly miss the overarching theme of his character and who he is, and was, as a person. To merely dismiss all of his actions by saying "oh, hes just a monster, abuser, groomer, thats why hes the way that he is" shows nothing above a surface level understanding of his character, nor the characters of the people around him and those who choose to work with him. These characters were designed to have depth, to be studied, and understood on a deeper level. Why take such a basic explanation? I am not here to say Dutch is not without flaws (because he has alot of those), but I AM here to say that calling dutch a "groomer" or some sort of "cult leader, master manipulator" is just, factually incorrect.

Firstly, with the grooming point. This is an incredibly stigmatized word nowadays, so its crazy to use in general here, but by no means were people "groomed" into being outlaws. These people had flaws of their own, took bad paths, and ended up crossing paths with Dutch. Why did they cross paths with him? Well, I went through every "how they joined the gang" story I could find, and its about a 50/50 split between they tried to rob or kill dutch, Or that they were on the run and dutch gave them a safe place to stay, with some exceptions. The odds of these people bumping into someone far worse, in all cases, are exceptional. Most of the gang were in bad places when dutch found them, and they were getting desperate. Its incredibly possible they wouldve bumped into someone who wouldve killed them instead. John was saved from being hanged. Had Dutch and Hosea not been there, he wouldve died. Arthur outright says "dutch saved me, saved most of us." and although things did not turn out right at the end of the day, to believe that dutch was nothing more than a power-hungry manipulator is shown to be incorrect in the media itself. Colm exists. Hes literally right there. An antagonist who; doesnt know the names of the men in his gang, is shown to hit Kieran, who cares more for numbers than connection. Their feud goes back YEARS, and it all seems to stem from a fatal disagreement about how things were being run. When they split paths, Dutch keeps a tight knit gang of people who he considers family, Colm continues to grow his gang in numbers. At the very start of the game, dutch makes it clear that hed prefer the gang doesnt split up, that they stick together so *he can be sure everyone is okay.* He shows sympathy for Sadies situation, and takes her in to help her. Not once is it stated shes obligated to be there, in fact, its stated that she can stay as long as she needs to, to get back on her feet. She has the final say on whether she stays in the gang or not. The reason so many people stayed in the gang until it was actively collapsing, is not because dutch was forcing them to stay. They saw him as family just as he saw them.

Its why his character arc is so interesting. Its why watching his downfall is impactful. he ISNT a bad man, he does bad things out of desperation towards the end of the game, just as other gang members did in the very beginning. Dutch had bad tendencies, but he had people there to help him stay on the right track. His beliefs were good, its why he had people who stuck with him. They believed in what he taught. He had incredibly intelligent people in his gang, I'll use Lenny and Hosea as my examples for now. Lenny was taught by his father to judge peoples character, and even if his time with the gang was short he absolutely wouldve picked up on dutchs behavior if he was hiding behind some sort of mask. and HOSEA, has been with the dude for 20 YEARS. You cannot fake something for that long, and hosea is far from stupid aswell. He is a conman by nature. If dutch was trying to con everyone, surely he wouldve noticed. Arthur still regards dutch incredibly highly for a good majority of the game. He sees the man as a mentor and is clearly deeply affected watching dutch spiral and do bad things as the game goes on. At the beginning, when told Dutch had shot a girl on the blackwater job, his first response is to say that it "doesnt sound like him". Dutch is shown to have remorse for his actions, although he chooses to rarely talk about blackwater, and avoids the subject when its brought up, he explains to hosea, with shame, that he "really messed up" in blackwater. Micah had egged dutch on (as stated by John in a camp interaction) and dutch is shown to be regretful, that job really put everything in motion, but I truly believe micahs manipulation is what changed dutch.

Micah fed into his impulsive side, and tried to reassure him when things went wrong. When Arthur was kidnapped by Colm, Micah explained that Arthur was the type to wander, and surely, theyd see him back at camp. Dutch, ONCE AGAIN, shows regret. He shouldnt have put Arthur in such a position, and knows it. Dutch has impulsive tendencies, he has paranoid thoughts. This is shown in multiple camp interactions and even stated in one of the games first journal entries about the land they were going to settle on before the ferry job. To simply blow off all the depth of his character by saying "oh, hes bad" is so,, lame? Why focus on dutch specifically to say he did all of these bad things on his own accord when micah is, right there. Dutch literally goes crawling back to him in the epilogue. Partly for revenge, since seeing arthur on the cliffside was able to briefly break him out of the funk hed been in for the last few months (albeit far too late), but also partly because I dont think he knows how to be alone. I dont think he can handle it. Hosea and Arthur had been by his side the longest, and he had to watch both of them die. Late game conversations between dutch and arthur have always been fascinating to me, and even in Guarma dutch is still set on going back to keep the gang together. Thats his family, and he cannot lose them too. He outright states he'll do whatever it takes to make sure they survive. Arthur is startled by this, as dutch has been shown to be deadly and irrational, he isnt processing things well, and cannot handle the pressure on his shoulders, and it certainly doesnt help that Micah is in his ear telling him that Arthur and John are betraying him. He clearly doesnt want to believe it, but he cannot wrap his head around hoseas death, and assumes that the only way it couldve happened was if someone ratted, completely overlooking micah.

Dutch is not a smart man, and truthfully, he should have never been in a position of power, but he is not evil. He was desperate, and he was trying to keep his family together. Although I do not agree with the "Trolley Theory" for reasons stated above, I highly doubt him bashing his head like that helped with his mental state either. Dutch is desperate. Dutch does bad things, but he is far from a bad man. He helped the people in his gang, and although the found family turned sour in the end, they mattered to him, and it mattered to the gang. Dutch, CANONICALLY, was not always "bad" either. Arthur, Dutch, and Hosea robbed a bank, took what they needed, and gave the rest to the local orphanage. Dutch scolded Arthur for robbing someone who was "too poor" and said that doing that made them just as bad as the system they were fighting against, Dutch helped Hosea get on the right track and stopped him from stealing just about anything he could get his hands on. Dutch is a man who had good ideologies, and wanted to help people in his own way, but the pressures kept adding up and it broke him. Dutch, in RDR1, is a more objectively "bad" character, But look at how they fleshed him out in rdr2. Was the cliff scene nearly as impactful before the release of rdr2? absolutely not! Playing as john, we were thrown in with a baseline knowledge of their history, and now knowing the full story makes the cliff scene quite the harrowing experience if youre able to grasp the intricacies of dutchs character, to look at him as more than "just a villain".

This turned out to be far more ranty then I wanted, but I am so tired of seeing so much mischaracterization and demonization of a character with literally days worth of content to look at and study that shows some of the points I see from people to just be blatantly wrong. Lol

[ladyloveandjustice]

Otherside Picnic Volume 8 Review that Devolves into a Bunch of Quotes and Gushing

I’ve been wanting to do a review of Otherside Picnic Vol 8 because I loved it so much, but haven’t been in the right mindspace to properly convey my enthusiasm. But I’m about to get busy so it’s now or never. Here are my thoughts that are inevitably going to devolve into a bunch of quotes and gushing. Let's just go through it all!

-I loved this so much, first off. It literally inspired me to have an honest discussion with my partner about my own intimacy and relationship quirks and what we want from each other. It made me feel a little better about myself and my own weirdness, that’s how much it affected me. It really got across the relief of just communicating in a relationship, of having frank conversations with your partner, and accepting your differences from the mainstream as okay.

-The conversation about romance, love, and sex being different actually made me tear up, which is how I knew this book would murder me from the beginning. It’s just so nice to see one of my favorite yuri and favorite romantic stories ever acknowledge asexuality and the full spectrum of experiences in such an understanding and thoughtful way.

-I love that this book really recontextualizes the oblivious-to-love protagonist, slow-burn and often stalled development that aren’t uncommon in animanga adjacent media romances and made it into something incredibly interesting. This was already hinted at in previous volumes, but Sorawo’s disconnect with her own feelings and slowness in responding to Toriko wasn’t just to tease the audience, but because her view of romance and her understanding of her own feelings conflicted with societal ideas of romance and it left her lost and confused. It makes everything that came before it so much more meaningful. This is also extremely relatable, and I love that Sorawo was frustrated with the idea of her relationship fitting into a socially acceptable box, when she felt what she had with Toriko was a lot more complicated and far reaching and didn’t want to define it so neatly.

-Honestly reading about Sorawo not being all that into kissing and basically being like "I don't hate it but it doesn't do anything for me" made me feel a little bit less alone and little more confident in talking about this aspect of my experience. ME TOO. GIRL.

-Every single yuri should have a line like “sounds to me like you’re a raging lesbian” from now on. How can anything ever live up to this.

-Toriko looking into sexual abuse gave me a heart attack because at first I thought she was trying to understand what happened with her and Satsuki. But she was researching Sorawo, because the stuff with the Red Person made her realize Sorawo has trauma and I felt so vindicated about my article. Then we have the hilarity of Sorawo, who literally has a “cult mode” when she’s made to relive where she had to deal with abuses from cults, where she becomes like a different person and talks to herself like she’s a separate person and is disconnected from her normal self…claiming she doesn’t have lingering cult trauma and doesn’t dissociate.

And then Toriko going “uhhhh what about the Red Person?”

“Huh oh that didn’t count. Cuz your love saved me.”

THE most un-self aware person, I love her.

(And EVERYONE knows it, especially Toriko, loved this exchange:

“Don’t try to force something I’m not aware of onto me.”

“Sorawo, there aren’t many things about you that you actually display self-awareness of.”

“Wow, insulting much?!” )

-The fact Toriko noticed how thirsty Sorawo was for her the second they met is so funny and makes that scene 100 times better in hindsight.

“It took me by surprise. Here I am, holding you in my arms, and you go and stare at my face, then your eyes start working their way down. I was like, ‘Girl sure has a lot of energy for someone who almost drowned.’”

“So, what? When you were talking about me ogling you before, you meant—”

“Yeah, right from the get-go. From the moment you saw me for the first time.”

Sorawo didn’t realize she was doing it…the entire exchange is hilarious. SO much of this book was hilarious honestly, here are some other choice quotes:

Who would’ve known there could be such a touching scene right next to a shelf stuffed full of erotic manga with titles so incredible that I couldn’t possibly name them...?

And this, the best love confession ever:

“I love you! I love you!”

“For real?”

“Apparently!”

-I really liked that Toriko was genuinely worried Sorawo might not have consented to the previous kisses and might be bothered by them. It built on the ongoing theme of Toriko struggling with emotional and physical boundaries, giving her such good character growth, and It shows a concern and care most stories gloss over.

…Which is kind of a stark contrast to the lack of concern she shows about that time she hit Sorawo in volume 6, despite Sorawo bringing it up as a problem. This has been an ongoing issue that’s bothered me, and it’s been mentioned often enough I hope Miyazawa is going to actually do something to address it. He DID address the questionable consent of the earlier kisses, going beyond my expectations, so I actually have my fingers crossed this is something we’re going to explore and confront. It’s really jarring compared to the rest of how well everything else has been handled, and is the only mark against the story, so I’m hoping this is intentional. The Toriko who worries Sorawo might have been sexually abused and goes above and beyond to try to be sensitive and understand her and the Toriko who is dismissive of the time she hit her (now) partner seem so in opposition to each other, and I there could be some interesting exploration and resolution of that.

(Miyazawa does mention something about having to treat serious issues casually because of Sorawo's detached, cynical POV and hoping readers will understand; and I think it's likely he was referring to that, which gives me more confidence).

-Sorawo understands Toriko’s moms are lesbians now I’m so proud of her.

-the fact that Toriko wanted to fuck in her dead parents bedroom …she has so many problems, I cherish her.

-I loved getting more Toriko backstory and her moms. Love Sorawo being like “wow I probably should have asked about this but…” YES YOU SHOULD HAVE, FOR MY SAKE. But Sorawo’s focus on living in the here and now, and being content with the Toriko in the here and now, is such an interesting aspect of her.

-EVERYthing about the final scene was so good. Like how can I even talk about it? Toriko fucking Sorawo with her weirdass interdimensionally-corrupted hand while getting jazzed by Sorawo's magic eye is just PEAK lesbian fantasy, no other series had delivered this exact weirdness that I want, thank you for being there for all of us bizarre sapphics.

“I...might make you go crazy.”

“That’s okay.”

Toriko’s hand drew closer. It meant something different now than it had before. If Toriko touched me now, I’d be the one to go insane. She snuggled up to me, so close our noses could touch, and with a voice full of heated passion, she whispered, “Let’s go crazy. Together.”

“Girl hit me with your evil eye, let’s get real fucked up” I love them, they’re such freaks and I am here for it. THE PASSION. THE METAPHOR. THE PURE CHUUNI WISH FUFILLMENT.

-Honestly I just highlighted the entire final scene because it hit me right in my weird gay little soul the way few other things have and I want to be able to whip these out the next time some loser says wlw media doesn’t have poetic declarations of love and passion so I’m just going to go through them.

Here’s one:

But that’s not what happened. Toriko looked beautiful, opening before me like a flower in bloom, and I was aware of every minute branch of the tree, down to their very tips…[]

Toriko became rude, polite, lewd, or embarrassed. I didn’t have the composure to focus or think as I watched, so Toriko changed from one thing to another as my gaze wandered. Laughing, getting angry, crying, fearing, moaning—feeling as if she were flowing from one state to the next, in constant flux, and yet in all of them simultaneously.

Sorawo accepting all sides of Toriko, all her complexity, how she’s everything all at once! And the fact they have such amazing sex they basically GO TO THE OTHERSIDE? Dimension transcending lesbian sex? Showstopping, incredible.

The way her hand moved, tracing the outline of my body—its true outline—was as gentle as could be, sensitive yet bold, overflowing with care, incredibly unreserved, and audacious. It felt like it was packed full of all the experiences of being touched by another person. In another way, different from mine, Toriko was unraveling the person that I was too. I was being decomposed, broken apart. The things that had been pressed into a human form were decompressed, and expanded outwards without limit.

This is how you do a sex scene. If your partner doesn’t unravel you and make you see all the shattered pieces of yourself, is it even worth it? I love the motif of falling apart but becoming more whole at the same time- isn’t that just every human experience all wrapped up into one?

I had been afraid to look at Toriko. Toriko had been afraid to touch me. Now, as we were looking at, or touching, our partner directly, tossed about on the waves of madness, we began to gradually find a way to take control of the situation.

The idea of how maybe you can’t help losing your minds when you look and feel all the other person is…but maybe if you lose your minds together it will be okay. Romance.

These two beasts with all these bodies converged through their desire for one another and were bound together. We were blending together at the interfaces where we connected. The different ‘us’s melted together, without ever becoming a perfect whole, but without fully separating either. Like a chimera made from two types of living being. Or two galaxies colliding.

“We became a chimera” is the absolute nerdiest way to describe making love and thus perfect for them (also lol the beast with two backs).

That’s too long, so how about shortening it to Soratori?” I burst out laughing as I remembered the time she’d tried to use the name Soratori Road for what we now called Route 1 in the other world. “

That’s like one of those ship names,” I told her.

“What’re those?”

“You’re a mangaka’s daughter and you don’t know that?!”

“Nope, not a clue. Is it something dirty?”

“Well, maybe?”

“Hmm.”

Okay, so Sorawo is clearly in some fandom and ships something. Place your bet on what it is. Probably she ships creepypasta monsters.

Do you know what the ‘nue’ is?”

“It’s a Japanese monster, right? Made up of a bunch of different animals mixed together.” “Yeah, that’s the one. As an extension of that, the word can also refer to something that doesn’t have a discernible form.”

[...]

While we were there, the two of us got all mixed up together, right? Intertwined, melting into one, like animals... Depending on how you look at it, you might say we were like a nue.”

“So, basically, if you wanted a word to represent our relationship, we wouldn’t be ‘lovers,’ or ‘accomplices’...but a ‘nue’?”

Okay forget what I said this is ACTUALLY the nerdiest way to describe your relationship. And speaking of nerds, I love this stupid conversation:

“It’s cute. Nue. I like the sound of it. Maybe I’ll get a tattoo of the kanji.”

“You’d take it that far?”

“You’re not gonna get a matching one?”

“They might not let us in the hot springs in Japan anymore. You sure?

” “Huh?! I wouldn’t like that... You think it’d be okay if we put them somewhere no one will see?”

“Where would no one see? This is sounding painful, and I’m not really on board with it.”

“Wha?”

-

Anyway, yeah, this section was everything I wanted, no notes. Toriko and Sorawo have the most demented, fantastical sex possible, having a threesome with the otherside because they all are strange and wonderful, being the nerdiest dorks it’s possible to be, their relationship is now a chimera because that’s even better and more all encompassing that something boring like lovers, Miyazawa really gave us it all, love wins, gays win. What more can I say? I adore this series.

[musicalmoritz]

do u hc any character on the aro/ace spectrum?

I love this question!! Unfortunately since TBHK is so heavily focused on romance, I don’t have many. Ofc aroace ppl can still date but fandoms tend to ignore the nuance of that statement and put them into relationships without considering what that means for them. I like to look at it a bit deeper because aroace headcanons do have some importance to me. My sister is aroace so every time I see a headcanon for a character being aspec I have to let her know lol. So before I get into this list I just wanted to say to any aroace ppl who see this, I love ya’ll, ya’ll are doing great <3

Nobody murder me, I’m going to explain. Typically I’m not a fan of aroace villains bcuz the trope has some nasty implications. That doesn’t mean no villain character can ever be headcanoned as aroace but I need some very good reasons before sticking with a headcanon like that. And for Tsukasa, I have my reasons!! A lot of fans tend to agree that he shouldn’t be in a relationship with anybody and that used to really annoy me because I don’t like the whole “this character is clearly mentally ill therefore they get no love” thing. I know it goes deeper than that with him being generally abusive but still. Eh. There are people with disorders that make them bad partners and those people are still very capable of getting therapy and improving. Plus most fans who say that claim to love toxic ships to like???

I’m not really a fan of any Tsukasa ships tho (I used to crack ship TsuAoi but those days are over) so I figured I would actually put some effort into giving a reason as to why he doesn’t do relationships. Rather than go the whole “he could hurt other people” route, I wanted to focus more about how Tsukasa himself would feel about dating. And to be honest? I don’t think he’d like it! He’s definitely interested in relationships as a concept but I don’t think he’s the type to take them seriously. I try to use this headcanon to humanize Tsukasa rather than demonizing him like a lot of people do with aroace villain headcanons. Love is very important to him on a platonic level but romance just isn’t his thing. And it creates a nice contrast in fics between him and characters whose lives center so much around romance. My sister actually is the one who introduced me to this hc and every aroace hc she has is law so I abide by it lmao

This one is way more recent but it makes so much sense to me. If you want to talk about characters who are more realistically potentially aroace, Tsuchigomori has never expressed the desire for a love interest in canon. When most adult male characters are single in fiction it’s seen as a problem (at least in a comedic sense), but with Tsuchigomori none of the characters question it. I feel like he has some level of interest in romance, maybe demiromantic?? But overall romantic attraction isn’t something he experiences easily

This one is more based on vibes and me hunting down every TBHK character that doesn’t have an arc connected to romantic attraction. I don’t think he realized it when he was alive because the people in his village didn’t talk about asexuality/aromanticism much. Maybe he thought he was gay but that didn’t quite feel right because his disinterest in women extended to everyone. He seems like the type to love being surrounded by people and be generally very personable, so his platonic relationships are very important to him. Just no romance

I know you specifically asked for aroace characters but I 100% see this man as demiromantic, and maybe demisexual too. Possibly completely asexual, though leaning more towards the positive side of the spectrum (or just neutral). Emotions don’t come easily to this man so love is a complicated subject but I do believe he’s capable of loving people romantically, just under specific circumstances and not in the traditional sense

I hope you liked these headcanons!! I’ve seen some others that interest me too. I once wrote a Sakuhiko request where they were both aroace and queer platonic, that was very fun. I’ve also seen both the Minamoto brothers written as asexual which is cool to me. Tbh I’m open to most types of headcanons unless I see one that inexplicably gives me the ick…but even then I mind my business bcuz I don’t have to agree with every headcanon I see. I may not have many aroace headcanons for TBHK but I have more for other fandoms, completely unrelated but I could write a whole essay on why Jean Valjean is aroace lol

[heroofspiritsisthebestlink]

With the resurgence of the Hinamiki Agenda, I realized there was a wall of text I wrote for them that I never posted here.

So here it is. Why I think Hinamiki rules.

You often hear that there are two sides to every coin. Every toss of said coin can determine drastically different outcomes. People nurtured into the mundane often dream of more, and people dragged through the extreme wish for less.

Hajime Hinata is born as what equates to a commoner in this world of overglorification of the talented. He lives what we consider a normal life, and like many others, dream of attending Hope's Peak Academy and enter the ranks of the socially elite super star teenagers. Finally, he finds a way in, though disappointingly through the Reserve Course.

And it's hell. There's nothing special about being a Reserve Course student at Hope's Peak, unless you count being treated like societies biggest joke from both sides of the spectrum. The other talentless of the world see you as a rich asshole pretender, and the main course students see you as worthless garbage. The police even do it too. Or at least, the lives of a main course student is more socially valuable.

But then Hajime is granted a choice. A choice to be more, a choice to ascend. To become what he's always dreamed of, someone of talent and of what society deems of worth. So of course he takes it.

And, without knowledge, he's turned into a monster.

Mikan Tsumiki is born into an abusive household. She's tormented, bullied and beaten at both school and at home. It's never explicitly stated why, but somewhere along this way, she develops an enormous abandonment complex, to the point where she prefers mistreatment over isolation. There's no one to help her but herself, something she eventually takes to a fatalistic conclusion by teaching herself how to heal her own wounds when no one would. Her expertise in the medical field stems from self treatment just to make it through to the next day. Childhood is hell. Middle school is hell. There's nothing she can do, and nobody is willing to do anything for her.

Until one day, something does. She gets scouted for Hope's Peak Academy as the Ultimate Nurse. Her achievements are heralded as incredible, her fight for survival indirectly romanticised as "worthy of prestige." It's morally garish, but she starts attending. And it turns into the best years of her life. Sure, some people still pick on her and take advantage of her obsessive need for attention, but it's still the comparatively healthiest environment she's ever lived in. She has friends. For the first time in her life, she's thriving, even if it's in somewhat unhealthy ways.

But then someone has plans for the world. Someone is in need of autonomous slaves, willing to carry out her will in her absence. And Mikan is taken in, and much like the rest of her life, she is given no choice in the matter, forced to return to that harmful path.

And she, once again without a say in the matter, is turned into a monster.

Two sides of the same coin that flips through the air, one side twisting to take up the position that the other previously held. Joy to despair. Despair to joy. The coin keeps falling, barrelling towards the bottom, destined to land with one side up, and the other scorned. Both sides can't both win.

Unless someone catches that coin.

One thing that keeps striking me when I look over the interactions Hajime and Mikan have is that despite how much the two mirror each other as opposites, they still find much common ground. They're both scared and insecure of others not deeming them worth their time, but differs in how they express it and subconsciously enact on it. But, through talking, they find a sort of conversational kinship. Hajime reassures Mikan that she doesn't need to do anything to deserve friendship, and she, in turn, gets on his case to take better care of himself. Any attempt at hiding his pain is something she picks up on, given her heightened perception she's gained through her own trials.

Through his ardent kindness, he's able to make her calm down and have a regular conversation with her without enabling her worst coping mechanisms, which is a really difficult balance to hit. He is the only one Mikan ever opens up to, given he's the only one Mikan trusts not to be repulsed by her ugly past and distance from her. That's an incredibly difficult step to take, and I wish that was recognized more.

It's cheesy, but I really do think they make for an interesting whole when these two halves come to talk, each showing the other a path to deal with their respective issues, and then imploring the other to walk down it.

Love isn't a cure. Junko's version is an example of that, it's not instafix or bandaid solution.

Instead, love is a symptom. A symptom of joy, progress and hope. Hope that you can have enough faith in yourself and your life to share joy unconditionally.

Top image is an edit made by Twitter user @ weebainu

Bottom image is a sprite edit illustration made by Twitter user @ middinos

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

Pacifica Northwest is transmasc and you can't change my mind

Okay. That sounds insane. I am aware. It sounds insane to me. But fuck it - I already did the trans Dipper rant essay and so I'll do the same with trans Pacifica.

So Pacifica grows up rich with very oppressive parents. She's clearly a child of abuse who likely has no sense of identity. She's forced to fit a strict mold of The Perfect Daughter. Someone who is perfect and demure and pristine and womanly and who has to wear the right color dress and can't just wear something close enough because otherwise she gets something implied to be very bad.

Put another way: A kid is forced to be exactly perfect and the definition of whatever their gender is. They are not allowed to deviate from that definition in the least otherwise Bad Things happen. They're scared to even be slightly different.

Sound familiar? Because a lot of trans kids go through the same thing. A lot of trans femme people have to play with the Boy Toys because otherwise they're a flower boy and that's bad (which in itself is bad because flower boy is old slang for gay/derogatory as well as gender expression and identity being different but it also hurts trans people). A lot of transmasc people have to play dress up because if they don't there's Something Wrong with them.

I am more than 90% certain that it wasn't intentional, but looking at Pacifica through the lens of someone who tried to do a Boy Thing once and was forced to be hyperfemme for the rest of their life is just so good to me.

Pacifica embodies a lot of toxic girl tropes. You've heard of toxic masculinity, now get ready for toxic femininity - she's petty and superficial and puts too much stock in appearances. Which, granted, is a thing that happens in girl friend groups - I've seen it happen many times - but it reads as different to me. This isn't malice, Pacifica has been shown to be a good person (The Golf War, Northwest Mansion Mystery). She cares for those around her and often only acts the way she does because she has to. Any time she tries to speak up, she gets ruthlessly shut down. She has to be what her parents want, when they want, how they want. If she doesn't, she gets punished.

Yes, Pacifica shows up to every event dressed femme. But who drove her to those events? Who has their claws in every aspect of the town? Who would hear about anything that happens in Gravity Falls? Who buys her clothes? Her parents. And if her parents - who, again, are likely abusive - want her to be and dress like their perfect little girl, their hyperfemme daughter, then she will. She has to be.

From a writing perspective, Pacifica is made to be the opposite of Mabel. One loves fun and color and chaos, is nice no matter what. The other is sitting outside this room and named Pacifica Northwest. But looking at it like that, why wouldn't Pacifica be trans? Especially if Mabel is transfemme - which is a fun reading of her and one that I love to see. It's not canon but think about it. If Mabel is transfemme then Pacifica - her inverse - would be transmasc. The other end of the spectrum.

But now I need real evidence, right? My transmasc Dipper essay was built on much more than "this is behavior seen in a lot of trans people just generally". I pointed out specific scenes in specific episodes - though I forgot Carpet Diem, which is fascinating and which I could so make an essay on by itself. Can I do that for Pacifica?

Well, the short answer is no. The best evidence I have is a general hand-wave at her behavior and environment and "this just reads as transmasc to me". Which, to be completely fair, is how headcanons work. They don't necessarily need any degree of proof. It's nice and it can help people to agree with you, but in the end, it doesn't matter. I can say I headcanon anything, and because it's a headcanon, you can't do shit about it. If I say Pacifica is transmasc beyond a shadow of a doubt, then you can challenge me.

To be fair, I did say that. The title of this is literally "Pacifica is transmasc and you can't change my mind", I will take that I was making claims. But also I immediately followed that up with "it sounds insane to me" so I should hope we all know that I'm going into headcanons-based-on-the-text territory.

And I'm never going to attack someone over a headcanon that makes someone feel seen, and I'd hope that holds true for everyone. I like Pacifica as transmasc and forcing herself into the box of cis female when it's wrong because I did the same. I love transmasc Pacifica. I love the idea of Pacifica and Dipper hanging out and him telling her that he's trans and Pacifica just kinda goes "you can do that? But then why doesn't everyone? Being a girl kinda sucks - there's girl drama and dresses and girl puberty and all that stuff. Everyone would be a guy if they could" and Dipper gives her The Look and says "Pacifica Northwest, that is the most trans thing I have ever heard".

In conclusion, I headcanon trans masculine Pacifica Northwest. Still workshopping a chosen name for him but I do, and I love him. It's all silly fun headcanoning a children's cartoon character as trans and it hurts no one. And it doesn't even affect a lot of the things I'll do. I have one fic that will hint at it and one that will treat it as the main center of the story planned. (It will be a part of my AU but not a major part and I'm also playing with the thought of gender-fluid Pacifica for Divine Falls. It's entirely ignorable and will not affect anything related to the main AU's plot.)

Yes I referred to Pacifica as she/her for most of this essay but it was referring to a pre-realization Pacifica who isn't out yet and thus would convince herself that she was uncomfortable with he/him pronouns and therefore calling them he/him would be wrong until he came out.