#anyway these are just my thoughts and interpretations

[ohmytyong-recs]

okay...girl grab a cup of coffee and relax because you have an essay to read

for those who haven't read this yet, there are spoilers under the cut

so i started reading this fic probably two weeks ago (?) but i just finished it now. i don't know where to start but i'm gonna begin with how truly gifted you are as a writer. i don't know if it's just me but you manage to create the scenes, the moods, the vibes and the characters i mostly look for when i read any form of literature. and the tone and style of your writing ties everything together, you really embrace all the qualities i love in literature and the ones i try (emphasis on this) to create in the own writings as well.

now to the story. the plot had the perfect mixture of happiness and sadness, the characters you created were both loveable and toxic, the settings and your descriptions really transported me to the story you wanted to tell, as if i was actually there. i am a heavy visual reader (if that's the term i forgot) so everything plays out in my head like a movie. the feeling with this story was heavily amplified. now i don't know if that was an inspiration you drew from, but throughout the whole thing i was getting major "call me by your name" vibes. i don't know if that was your intention, but i kept imagining that little village as crema.

now to the romance part. it truly felt like i was reading a published romance novel. and it truly felt like your characters were actually people, i think i've told you that before but you write such vivid, human characters. the reading process was so bittersweet because you can see their love blooming but you know that they don't get together in the end. now i wouldn't normally comment on the smut scene but this one just worked. its purpose in that particular moment was totally fulfilled, the couple shared one of their most intimate moments together and the way you rendered it did it so much justice.

and now the ending. phew. up until the phone call i was devastated, i mean of course she couldn't wait for him for five years, and the fact that the letters were never delivered created such an intense environment. then the open ending leaves so many things for interpretation, although i choose to think of it as a happy(ish) ending.

BUT THEN i thought waaait a minute. i remember the way you began the story and i went back to reread the preface. and then i became devastated again. because the book was published and it was sent to her and she's crying to the memories of him. so she ended up marrying the other guy so the ending is not happy. (at least that's my interpretation, maybe i'm wrong but don't tell me if i am, i don't wanna find what the author, meaning you, wanted to say with this story but rather i, as the reader, want to find my own meaning through my understanding).

anyway, this isn't goodreads and i let my degree in literature get the best of me. but i needed you to know how your stories make me feel. you put so much thought and effort in your writings, i'm sure of it, and you deserve to know that your words resonate with people. this was a beautiful story.

I remember everything | j.jh

→burnt-out writer!jaehyun x host f!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, summer fling, found home, strangers to lovers to strangers again, missed connection, 80's au

synopsis: jaehyun didn’t think meeting you in that quaint lonesome countryside town would come in between him and writing something hopeful and lively in contrast to all of his gloomy work. in fact it was a blessing to have someone help him navigate the foreign country. yet life always has something up its sleeve no matter how soul crushing.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mentions/implementations of poor mental health, abusive higher ups, mentions of bad parenting, unprotected sex.

wc: 28.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are ONLY characters. read at your own discretion.

an: summer is gone and I tried posting this for the past 2 months so here is an ode to the place that inspired it all.

The contents of the box had been sitting unwrapped for what felt like an eternity after recalling last week’s events. The miscellaneous items your family sent were a recurring sight but it was rare that Ollie sent you anything besides his letters. 

What disturbed you most is his choice of item. Those bold scripted yellow letters mock you. You weren’t upset with him, you could never be upset with him. You know it’s not his doing, that he was put up to it. What upsets you is the resurfacing thoughts you had hid away in the vault of your memory years ago when you remained naive and to your disgrace revived with one detail.

Courage was the last thing in you. It surged through, more so forcibly, perhaps even masochistically. That seems correct because the second you open to the first page, images you believed you would never see, fly out, reminding you of a life that you can only describe as a daydream.

Every single image had something written in the back of it. You attempt to refrain from reading each note. With no avail, the loops of his handwriting draw you in as much as his piercing gaze and the smile you still dream about – those dimples you can’t forget no matter how much you now look at them on someone else.

There’s a folded letter slotted before the dedication page. It smells like him and you can’t help being transported to the summer you met him. The pleasantly strong cologne you could smell even in the masses of stench when cleaning the pen. Or through the window you two sneaked kisses at night. 

You don’t want to cry, you truly try not to, yet the waterworks flow when you finally focus on the dedication page of this damned book. 

‘To the life I needed all along… I remember everything.’

Jaehyun remembers with fondness the tranquility of what he considers home. The warmth that filled his chest with every waking moment he spent in that beautiful quaint village. And now looking and thinking back at it, that fondness muddles with the pain in his heart. That’s not what he wants nor needs, that’s not what he came here for.

Jaehyun could get behind it, it was nice. He immediately got used to the cool breeze which felt more like a chilly autumn rather than the grueling summer. He could definitely get used to the smell of wood burning from stoves and chimneys that indicated locals began their day. Similar enough to the rough housing from goats and sheep’s bleats to roosters for them to shut up, that the sun was enough of a wake up call. 

Fairly loud, not nearly as much as the city. It was one thing to admire the beauty outside of his temporary residence. Bougainvillea vines, flamboyant and bright, purloining his attention to let him know they were the star of the show, overshadowing any other house around.

Jaehyun needed something and all he knew was that he had to escape the constraints of his overpopulated and 24/7 bustling city that has cursed him to hell multiple times for not giving it a heartfelt ovation. How could he when he’s been shown nothing but hatred from it since he stepped foot in that hell hole?

Things should be different here, he knows that – he’s been shown. 

His taxi driver spoke idly about his day. Describing the breakfast his wife had made before he left. His daughter had visited to drop off their grandson while she went to work at the local market but in the process the kid had fallen down the steep steps claiming all he wanted as comfort was to spend time with his ‘Tito’. So there he was making rocket sounds and hammering the glove compartment with the pale sun-eaten toy car that caused his fall. In the process, turning back to Jaehyun asking if he liked dishes he had never heard of before that the kid didn’t like himself.

Jaehyun remembers it well. 

How can such a beautiful place bring him agony? 

He wanted to stray away from those pessimistic feelings that had shackled him for years, tainting every single one of his pieces. When his publisher and manager told him it would be best to go somewhere he’d know nothing about his world, to have time to think about a new story, he was the first one to say goodbye, muttering under his breath that he wished he’d never see them again. Jaehyun was elated to know he was given a golden ticket out. 

The past few launches and expectations had been hectic. Drowning him with stress and though many would think being a successful writer at such a young age was all fun and games, they'd think otherwise when your team is hollering in your ear daily to come up with new content and critics claiming you’ve yet again failed to provide anything meaningful besides pretentiousness. 

Jaehyun is tired of that dark monotonous and consuming cycle they’re forcing him to be in. So he’s hopeful and excited to see what this beautiful rural village can bring him. Hopeful that it’ll break those shackles of misery that cling to him until his ankles bruise and bleed. Hopeful to find meaning to this life that he’s been searching for. 

Struck with awe throughout his entire trajectory down the cobble and dirt-filled path from midtown to the house, the animal noises he had managed to drown became louder upon pushing open the metal door, growing wary. When he finally crossed the threshold he was met with the image of someone tussling with a ram, enough to get tackled and Jaehyun can only explain that feeling as freight.

That was the first time he met you.

From far away and with his feet grounded in fear, the fear you didn’t have regardless of all those rammings. That must’ve hurt, Jaehyun thinks so. How could it not? The beast came in charging three times, each making the impact seem worse. Twisted horns able to bruise the skin of your thighs.

Every step closer increases his shock. Muffled groans and curses from you mixed with laughter from your grandfather that stood and watched. Neither of you blame him, being the victim of that damn thing at 80 had caused irreparable damage to his hip. There’s nothing he could have done. At best he mangles the rope beside the stake, swinging it in hopes of getting it off you. 

Jaehyun felt inutile. He had no experience with animals nor with any labor besides what his father would drag him into. It’s not his fault he became a writing prodigy. His brute strength was useless if he was too scared to jump into the pen to help you. 

It was more shocking when a scrawny boy in a simple white tee, dusty jeans, heavy work boots just as muddy had pushed through him. Yelling something he couldn’t understand but later found it meant “Get the fuck out the way!” He didn’t mean to be malicious but he was scared himself. Jumping over the pen’s fence and pulling the damned ram off of you, he slaps its rear as a form of discipline. It amazes Jaehyun how effortless he made it look.

Finally free and things having calmed down, Jaehyun saw the elderly man seize his laughter. Genuine tears slip from his eyes. He was scared, truly scared it could have been your end. Having experienced it himself, he couldn’t help both sympathize and feel guilty. You and the kid reassured him it was fine. It wasn’t a first but your grandpa wouldn’t hear it, sighing as he continued to sob. 

Jaehyun later found that he was insanely sensible. Laughing things off to calm himself to eventually break down.

In attempts to ease his pain, you had sent the young boy to fetch your grandpa a coke and some bread. 

Nowadays, Jaehyun consumes those items whenever he grows scared 

Making your way with a limp that your grandfather mimicked due to his own attack and age, Jaehyun finally approaches you both, voice slightly quivering.

“Are you alright?!” Jaehyun quips, your head turns to him un-amusedly. Cautious but relaxed for whoever’s sake. “Yeah… it’s not the first time.” You try to smile at the stranger who is obviously not from the village inside the premise of your grandparent’s home. It only dawned upon you who he was when you noticed the pristine suitcases in his hands. Holding the handles like a lost victorian count in search of a new start in the bustling dirty city – despite the contrast.

“You’re the new tenant, right?” You ask, limp finally gone after something cracked. Jaehyun winces, amused with the nonchalant tone in your voice; he nods fervently. “Yeah, um, I can pay for a few months up front if you don’t mind.” Neither of you had noticed that both had stopped walking, your grandpa already in the house, leaving you to speak with the young and attractive man before you.

“Months?”

Jaehyun nods. “If you don’t mind or have another tenant.” He feels sheepish; confident in your eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s been open for months.” 

It’s amazing to him how you’re acting like you didn’t almost need a ride to the nearest hospital. Seeing the limp gone and crouching down to pick up a bucket full of dry corn kernels like nothing. He could have believed everything he saw didn’t really happen. 

It’s recurring if he thinks back to it, how everything felt so fleeting and surreal. He despises and feels it mocking him daily.

Following you around like a lost puppy while you sprinkled the ground with those kernels, he took note of the expression on your face. You’re still in pain, it’s written all over the movements you make. He rules you’re ignoring it to not seem ill before him or specifically to reassure your grandfather. 

Jaehyun has a strong image in your eyes. It would crumble with just about anything and you felt comfortable figuring that out. Just like it has done now, with chickens rushing and flooding the area to gobble down their meal. Jaehyun was startled and scared they’d peck him in the process. 

You try not to laugh despite the giggles leaving in spurts. Nearing the kitchen door, you stop in your tracks to look at him. “Don't worry about the pay, it won't be necessary.” It troubles him and this time he won’t hold his thoughts. Well, he wasn’t going to but as soon as his lips parted, the sprint door opened, showing a much shorter and pudgier older woman. He reckons that’s your grandmother so he smiles and greets her accordingly. 

She accepts it, returning the favor before going back to business in handing you the bowl full of pepper seeds and stems to feed the chickens. That left him and your grandmother alone, inviting him to the kitchen.

He studied the kitchen upon crossing the threshold, admiring the huge chimney in the right corner, soot covered it along the boiling metal bucket of water. There was a chair in front of it, one of those school chairs that cling onto your hair until it’s off your scalp. 

A metal cabinet in between the entrance door and the hallway. It’s dusty, showcasing fine china that was never used. He found the cracks above the very tall ceilings the most enchanting, all leading to portraits above the hallway’s threshold. Trajectory and lineage demonstrated through the years. Most recently: one of you with your diploma. 

Beautiful. Utterly beautiful, he thought.

“Come, I’ll show you around.” 

The tour was simple, the hallway that connected the main room and kitchen was a room in itself. Privacy wasn’t really an option within these walls but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one sleeping in the main house.

All he had to know about this house was that it was an old canteen that your grandmother’s father bought for her as a wedding gift. The hallway had a bed your grandfather slept on, a couch he sat to watch the TV propped on top of a dresser in the main room ���where he’d join him often– and a door that led to the guest’s area.

Despite the open concept, she didn’t show him the room where you and her slept in. He caught a glimpse of a door to the only restroom in there –restroom with a window he would spend his nights at often–, a vanity you both filled with expired products, and two beds on opposite sides. He figures the one with a pristine Garfield plush was yours. 

Jaehyun felt the clarity of finding home within these few minutes. It was summer and the house was freezing without a clunky AC unit, he was in heaven if you asked him. It felt cozy and he liked that it wasn’t stuffy like his apartment back home, it felt like love. Cold, unspoken care and love.

The tour ended by the time both reached the guest area. The door was open after you swept but things never lasted clean here, the entrance full of dust again. Your grandmother looked tired and apologetic that she couldn’t continue, reassuring him his room was fine, warranting her to yell your name and rushing to her side.

She asks you to show him, motioning for him to follow you with your head. It felt like a full circle when you both hopped down the step from the house to the courtyard. He looked at the threshold he entered through, the door was closed now, decorated with flowers made out of dust, crafted by Ollie when he had free time. Your grandfather sat on a chair near the pen with the young man, eating his bread and smoking a cigarette that he pretends to hide. 

Following you, Jaehyun took notice of the mountain of rocks and flowers near his room. A monument to a holy being he had only seen a few times. It was beautiful, vibrant flowers in comparison to the rocks. Some cactus and critters roam on small trinkets and a river flows up and down each rock.

Jaehyun finds himself behind a wall of jacarandas which cover the entrance to his room. The door unlocks with a screech, Jaehyun, hopeful it was just as inviting as the home only to be shortly disappointed when it felt warm inside and the walls maintained a darker hue. It was newly made, it lacks love.

Sensing his hesitance, your voice aims to distract him. “It’s not much, the bed is new if you must know. My uncle should bring in the TV but in the meantime you have free reign to the boombox or the kitchen’s.” Apologetic smile decorating your face. “You can open the window if it gets hot, Ollie is fixing up the fan. Feel free to go into the house, we don’t mind.” You hope that will help his decision, you’d hate to see him leave.

He wants to thank you with the words stuck in his throat, something you noticed well enough that intensified the feeling that clogged your own. “Um, yeah… New bed, the lamp and main light work, window opens, and you have your own personal bathroom. Unfortunately, the boiler is still very old fashioned so you will have to warm it or boil some water in the chimney to shower.” You hope that repeating yourself will convince him, restraining yourself from begging.

It has its flaws but he has decided not to care. “I’ll take it. It’s still $130 for the month, right?” He smiles boyishly, putting down his suitcases. It gives you a sense of tenderness and relief. You want to sigh and smile, giggle with appreciation. “Don’t worry about that, the room is yours.” You hand him the key, that’s the best you can manage.

His lip slightly juts out and eyebrows furrow with your words. “What do you mean by that? Please, I insist.” He turns to you, taking a step closer, forcing you to bite the inside of your lower lip. “I can double it if you prefer.” He pleads, head tilting to the side with wide eyes. It’s not intentional, he’s unaware of the effects he has on people. He’s scared you’re tricking him to not keep the room, to give it to someone else. Almost like you aren’t finding his presence enjoyable. If only he knew how much you would love for him to stay. 

“It’s not that, trust me.” You walk towards the door, avoidingly. “It’s nice to not be alone. To have someone else around.” Your eyes don’t meet his, he understands. Letting it go, he thanks you in a whisper. “By any chance can I use your phone?” He asks in attempts to change the atmosphere. 

Apologies fill your eyes like previous conversations. “It’s off until Monday.” It’s Wednesday. 

“There’s a little store a block or two from here, not far at all. You can leave from either side, it’s flamboyantly yellow so you won’t miss it.” His excursion to find this place alone will say otherwise. “The name is painted on with neon green, ‘Gaby’s’ it’s called.” You laugh, looking at the expression on his face. He thanks you and follows behind the exit of the room, parting ways. 

Despite the rundown homes and slight deterioration here and there, Jaehyun liked the tranquility and uncertainty in pertinence to the weather. One second he is granted with the warmth of vitamin D, the other he is threatened with the smell of wet dogs. This town had it all, yet none of it interfered with the breeze that calmed him as his hair waltzed around, singing in his ear that he was in the right hands, finally at ease. 

You were right about not missing the store. He can laugh now – he did when taking the final corner, being met with what he felt was covered in buckets of highlighter ink. It was almost comical how opposite the owner was from her lively store and home.

“Good morning.” He mutters, “What are your rates for long distance calls?” She looks at him, pulling out a booklet from the phone company, arms working like it’s a chore. 

“How far?” “Overseas.”

She looks at him through lashes, sighing, flipping another page. 

“$3.56 per minute.”

Jaehyun’s eyes bulge out, nodding frighteningly. The process goes accordingly: she hands him the phone, writes down his name and the location before looking at him to dial on that old dinky home phone. The wires are sticky from tape residue with some edges popping out. It was her mother’s from 1957 but she loves it more than her third born.

He rotates the wheel, hanging up one or three times until he finally gets it. When the other line finally picks up, she starts a timer. “It’ll be quick.” He mentions. “Take your time.” She smiles.

“Hello? Hellooo~.” The voice on the other line calls out, ready to hang up, a pair of blondes far more important than this are waiting for him. “Hyunjoo?” Jaehyun asks, hand clasping the bottom of the phone. “Yeah? Who is this?” His words sound slurred, not enough to call him drunk.

“It’s Jaehyun.”

An eruption of laughter and greetings is heard in the background, smiling at how welcoming it felt, although strange. “Jaehyunie! How are you finding it there? Fun?… You know when Jude showed me the pictures I thought you were crazy for choosing that… place! Do you think you can hold out long?!” He laughs diminishingly, Jaehyun’s smile falters, his heart aching as it usually does when it comes to Hyunjoo. 

He clears his throat, standing straight. “It’s great, I really like it so far and I’ve only seen the house.” He musters a laugh. “Listen, long-distance calls are expensive so I think we should only communicate through letters, okay? I just wanted to call to let you know I was fine.” He’s ready to end the conversation here. It didn’t start how he wanted it and a reminder of his actuality is not what he wants.

“No… no, now wait a minute!” It wasn’t Hyunjoo on the line anymore but Jude, his manager who was far more sober than his publisher. Some tussling and grunting here and there on the other line, Jaehyun sighs looking at how quickly he was pushing three minutes already. 

Eventually Jude got through, scolding the drunkard. “Now what do you mean you won’t call? Don’t be dumb, I need to hear from you!” He bites onto his cigarette, scolding Jaehyun like a small kid, like the child he pretends is his. “It’s too much, Jude. Plus, the house doesn’t have a phone right now so you can’t reach me.” His foot bounces, scoffing like a petulant child proclaiming independence from their family. 

Jude went on a tirade about how it wasn’t good for Jaehyun to go cold on them but the younger one wasn’t hearing it. The entire premise of this trip was to forget about them all so why won’t they let him? “Okay too much time, too much money, bye!” Jaehyun cuts the conversation short, giggling as the yelling got louder. Seizing when the timer hits six minutes and thirty-seven seconds. 

“$24.92.” A wide smile decorates the owner’s rotund face, sticking her hand out. Nothing left but to sigh and hand her the money. 

Jaehyun takes this opportunity to explore the village, mesmerized by the intricacies of carved ornate decorations onto walls and doors. In awe with the obvious distinctions between newly built homes and colonial ones he found far more attractive. Architecture was not his only interest, not when the mocking tango of scent swirls drag him to the plaza. Taunting him with delectable treats and meals at every corner and hall.

If he wanted to fall further in love, then the market currently taking place should do. Colorful carps and music from corner to corner, swaying him through the fabric made halls. Jingles of welcomings and hollering flood the ears of every passerby. Whether he wanted fresh produce, flavored shaved ice, fruit cocktails, clothes, or even toys, Jaehyun could find it all. It reminded him of the swap meet he encountered with his friends once when living in Connecticut years ago. This was surely far more inviting and lively. 

Through his trail around the halls, Jaehyun came to a halt upon seeing you standing before your grandfather on the bench your grandmother’s family had donated. Worry filled your face but the older man’s laughter was far more deafening and comforting. An internal warmth forces your head to turn, spotting him immediately for your eyes to meet.

“Need help?” Jaehyun offers embarrassedly, you deny. Your grandfather is receptive despite your light scolding. “It’s fine, really.” You try but both men insist. “Do you know how to repair cars?” Your grandfather asks, Jaehyun shakes his head apologetically, all which prompts your grandpa to huff and shake his own head.

“The car broke down.” He’s met with another of your apologetic smiles, as if he’s the one being wronged and not you and your grandfather. “I’m just going to finish off the shopping, mind giving him an eye?” You ask Jaehyun, the first favor to be exact and he couldn't be more elated to not feel useless.

It’s shut down by the older of the three, complaining and almost throwing a tantrum over how he didn’t need a babysitter. It wasn’t completely wrong, the entire village knew him so watchful eyes were all around, it’s not like you couldn’t trust him to be on his own. “No, no. Matter of fact, help her with the bags. Go on, look at how heavy they are.” He scolds Jaehyun, throwing away any unfamiliarity out the window. That’s one thing about him, he’s too trusting. 

Like a child in between parents having an argument, Jaehyun didn’t know who to listen to. Fortunately you give up and sigh, motioning with your head for him to follow you. He took a handful of bags from your hand, some left in the care of your grandfather that was well situated on the bench.

He gave you both his blessing, shooing you off to embark in an awkwardly silent walk with nothing but the blaring music vendors played to fill that emptiness. He had so much he wanted to ask, to say, to know what you could teach him about the village or if you knew how he could travel to neighboring ones. He was giddish and that’s all that took for you to turn to him with a smile.

“Quite a bad host, aren’t I? I didn’t even introduce myself.” You giggle, stopping at a stand. “It’s okay, I didn’t either, I’m sorry. I’m Jaehyun.” 

“Y/n,” You give him a quick glance, taking a bag from a vendor. “What are you doing here, anyways? No one comes here for pleasure.” Jaehyun could tell more words hung on the tip of your tongue, ones you swallow down. He didn’t know how to answer. If someone else asked him, he’d mention how he wanted some inspiration, to see what he could bring into fruition but with you his sincere words threatened to spill. 

How could he mutter: “I think I hate my life and those in it, so my manager and publisher shipped me off somewhere I’d be far from that world. I think they just wanted to get rid of me but it’s what I wanted all along…”

“Oh?”

Shit. Just like that. 

“I-I… I didn’t mean to say that.” He scolds himself. This had never happened before, what the hell was that?! Your laughter doesn’t help and he’s scared you’re laughing at his problems. He doesn’t want to believe someone like you could be this cruel.

“It’s okay.” 

That’s not reassuring. “It’s okay. I hated where I was a year ago too, so I was also shipped here.” That’s comforting– somewhat. 

Your shoulders shimmy as you pay for the produce, walking towards another stand. “Granted, my aunt got sick. She was my grandparents' caretaker but it was getting worse and I took the role.” From the depths of your pocket, you pull out some pumpkin seeds, handing him a few for him to crack, not counting with the coating of salt to scald his tongue. 

“She comes back here and there to check in and help but eventually she has to go back for constant checkups. I hadn’t found a job right out of college so this was my next best option and I like it – far more so, I think.” A sincere smile adorns your face; this was comforting.

Things went far more smoothly after that introduction. He told you about his books and what he wanted to do here. He told you about how miserable he felt and how abusive the city seemed to be towards him. You told him that you missed your city but the reality of facing adulthood in the area was weighing down on you. He figured this was your reality escape and although grim on your end, he felt ecstatic for himself. He felt like he finally found exactly what he needed.

The conversation went well with a few laughs here and there until reaching full circle with cups of shaved ice in a bag to take home and yours in hand. Bliss was momentarily gone when you reached the bench and didn’t spot your grandfather. Regardless, it didn’t take long for a seller to let you know his nephew gave him a ride. 

These instances made Jaehyun appreciate your gentleness for your grandparents. Although aware of how you try to hide your emotions from him, the guard falls when it comes to them. It’s admirable.

Noise didn’t break the bubble of silence you remained in until entering the kitchen where your grandfather was sitting at a table already, your grandmother making his coffee while Ollie tired and sweaty relaxed by the door, munching on a candybar he bought when getting the fright remedy. A token of appreciation from your grandfather for the cigarette.

“We didn’t see you, I almost had a heart attack.” You mock reprimand, a smile setting on your face seeing the older man safe and sound. No matter how hard you try to act angry, seeing him eat the rest of his bread while waiting for lunch calms you down. “I’m the old one here, save the ailments for another sixty years.” he cackles, Jaehyun beginning to find comfort in your grandfather’s ability to find humor in anything.

“I think our guest might want out already.” He teases, sneaking a piece from Ollie’s candy. The boy doesn’t protest, doing the same with the shaved ice you brought. Jaehyun felt his ears warm up, nervously denying it with no avail as your grandpa kept insisting with that same laugh. Dying when your grandma scolds him to leave Jaehyun alone.

Jaehyun giggles quietly, shaking his head. “Please believe me. I think it’s beautiful so far.” Your grandma hums, the one to speak is Ollie. “There’s nothing here. What’s beautiful about it?” He shrugs with a scowl. “He hasn’t seen the other towns, give it time, Ol.” You intervene, forcing him to taste test the rice.  

“Well, what if you and Ollie, whenever he can, show…”

“Jaehyun.” You help your grandmother, playfully glaring at the young boy for feedback on the dish. The elderly give each other a quick glance while Ollie makes a mocking thumbs down when he knows the smile on his face says otherwise.

She nods, scooping a spoonful of lard into the pan. “Why don’t you and Ollie show Jaehyun around after your duties. I doubt he wants to stay all hours here.” Jaehyun doesn’t know how to feel. He’s embarrassed, he’s also bashful and feels imposing. “It’s okay, I can manage. I don’t want to overstep.” He nervously chuckles, ears brightening.

“Okay.” You shut him up. He turns to you, silence deafening yet comforting, even when you finally lift your head to look at him, nodding. “It’s okay, just let us know what you want to see.” You’re much calmer than he is, it causes his body to tense despite being thankful with how inviting you are. How inviting you all are, he thinks he can see himself here for longer.

“Thank you.” He meets your eyes with a smile, thankful and glad. It’s reciprocated, knocking down the nonchalant act.

The first outings don’t go past the premises of the village. With planting being the main priority, neither you or Ollie have time to take him anywhere. The younger spent his days working the tractor, taking your grandfather up and down as his mentor despite his own father being there. 

Jaehyun tried to help once but was booted by both men and their laughter. He won’t fault them, he almost ruined a row of freshly planted beans and if he was to learn anything throughout this trip, he’d learn that any grain and imperfection was important enough to ruin the entire harvest. Instead he was left to pavement clearing, making sure no rocks or debris got in the way of vehicles.

The following week he had been left to his vices at home. You had apologetically told him they found assistance and he should enjoy his trip at home. Although there was nothing left to do, not for him at least. Your grandmother wouldn’t let him lift a finger in the kitchen and she didn’t like his cleaning style, leaving it to you if she was busy. 

Ollie had fixed the fan by now. The new motor made the room freeze, mimicking the room temperature of the home. Cold enough that Jaehyun preferred to leave the window open despite the crawlers that woke him at night. Now he contemplates whether he should turn the fan on or sleep with cotton filled eardrums. 

Jaehyun lays in bed, bored and antsy for something to do. The sound of your arguing with animals overpower the boombox next to his head, melodies he didn’t understand.

The fountain pen on his hand never felt far heavier, a sign that he had nothing new to produce. No, the only thing his hand mustered to write was the noises you made. Whatever pertains to you.

“Tutt-tutt.” “Cluth-cluth… No, Constance! Don’t peck me!” “Behhh, behhh! Here, what a cry baby.”

Jaehyun found joy through you and your acts of love.

“Meow, meow, meow! I can do that too! I already fed you, Fina! Gluttony is a sin, you know.”

Days went on like this, it’s repetitious but he doesn’t complain. Past times he’d think what he’s doing now was all he wanted but a mind never rests and his body is antsy for new experiences. He no longer wants to lie and feel the breeze rush through the window to coddle him, forcing the sheer white curtains to dance around for his attention.

Jaehyun tucks away his journal, buttoning up his shirt and slipping on the work boots he bought with only four days here. Full of glee and excitement he bought them to help your grandfather. He reckoned if he was going to get down and dirty then he should be dressed accordingly. 

With pep to his step, Jaehyun makes a beeline towards the pen. What used to be barking of unfamiliarity turned to a simple bark for attention, received with wagging tails. He made sure to pat their heads until reaching the fence, looking at you conversing with Camila, the donkey. 

“Aha and what else did he do?... No! You should’ve kicked him straight in the leg, Cami. He can’t talk to you like that!.” You nod and hum at her playfully, received with brays and nods. Jaehyun doesn’t know what you’re talking about but he’s glad that you’re having fun.

New hay had been brought in the morning, far more greener and fresh which left the old hay to be moved around for maintenance. In the process of such, strays found themselves near the dogs, enough to crunch under his step. Like a deer caught in headlights, Jaehyun stops, ears reddening by the whip of your head and Camila’s blaring bray.

“Hi…” He mutters timidly, cause of your smile. “Hi.” You reciprocate with the softest welcoming. He takes the initiative to approach you, standing a few feet behind. Neither say anything, amused with Camila’s treacherous ways in leaving you to gain his attention. Head bumping onto his hand to mimic the pats he left on the dogs.

Pleased she throws a kick, sending old hay flying towards the lambs and goats that reproach her action. You share a giggle, forcing you two to give each other a quick glance. “I think she likes you.” You mention, “I like her too.” He replies, petting her ears, as red as his. “Well don’t feed her ego, now. It’s already through the roof.” You teasingly scoff, another airy laugh leaves him. 

“Don’t be harsh, I think she needs it. I mean, I don’t know what you two were talking about just now but it seems like she needed her confidence there.” He smiles at you, taking her face into both hands. Your groan makes him wink at Camila, thankful that he’s found something to converse with you. “Her and Ollie–” Camila brays, removing Jaehyun’s touch from her.  “They have such an intense hate-love relationship that his name throws her off, so I’m giving her advice on how to deal with it. Right, Mila?” Understandingly, she nods, seeking your attention again.

“Granted it’s all made up, she’s a little jealous but with you here I think Ollie should take the role.” She brays again, aiming to bite your hand. You get away just in time, sticking your tongue out at her. Jaehyun receives the image with laughter, his chest filled with joy.

He shakes his head, petting hers to calm her down. “No, I don’t want to be responsible for their failure.” You nod, picking up a metal rake. “Mind if I help you? It’s getting boring there…” He’s ashamed to admit it. You sympathize with him, after all when you used to visit you often fell in his shoes.

“Alright, a heads up, this will be messy work.” He nods obediently, eyes shimmering with their natural gloss and the sun’s reflection. 

Darn him and his cuteness! 

Blinking the thought away you hand him a broom and the rake. “Here, hold these while I tie up this  maniac.” Your eyes squint meeting those of the ram that tackled you when he arrived. His own mimicking yours, it was on and he knew it. 

With rope in your hand, test swings approaching the pen’s door, the beast starts to test the waters. Three…two…one! What ensues is a battle between both, Jaehyun trying his best to help. He envisioned that this rivalry is what Ollie and Camila had, he’d witness it a few days prior. The only exception that you and Whitey hated each other to the core. He never knew why. 

After a few falls and tugs here and there, you two managed to get him in the isolation pen. Scoffing and laughing as he settles on newly clean hay. While he relaxes, you both huff and hold onto the fence, wiping away any remnants of sweat. “Ready to work?” You question, Jaehyun felt like this was enough. Unfortunately it’s only the beginning.

With free and safe reign to go inside the pen, you lay out the map of where to go and be careful. The wall to the neighbors cooped the chickens. It was the time they laid eggs so cleaning it would be held off until a few days later. On the opposite side to the street, roosters had their own coups. 

“All you have to do is separate the poop from the hay, that’s what the rake is for.” Jaehyun figured you felt apologetic for the task as the look you gave him when presenting the room manifested itself onto your face. If you only knew that he’d never say no to you.

He mutters an ‘alright’ with his brilliant smile, reassuringly. “While you do that,” you watch him struggle, “I’ll clean this one.” Your voice slowed, concentrated on how to maneuver. You referred to the pen around a large cactus. He didn’t give it much thought when you went in, he also felt it wouldn’t be that hard, the livestock discard balls for goodness sake.

He had the confidence that died along the way he swept and raked. For small balls they were pungent and he wasn’t handling it well, the uncovered smell of piss added to it. You try not to laugh when he gagged or turned around so you wouldn’t see him cover his face but it was becoming hard.

Endearing is the word you’re thinking of, even when he perceives it as mockery that his face falls into a pout when he hears your laughter. “Please don’t laugh at me.” He practically begs, head lifting for a waft of fresh air before pushing old disgusting hay into a trash bag.

“I’m sorry,” A laugh escapes. “It’s good I’m the one here, I wouldn’t doubt Ollie tormenting you if it was him here.” Jaehyun agrees, the difference being that he wouldn’t care for Ollie's ridicule, he’d play along and try his best to improve. He cares for your opinion which is far different. 

“He did enough during harvest.”  “I heard.”

Silence befalls as you continue, the sun seems to have hidden behind clouds for the time being. 

“I’m sorry you’re not having a good time.” You broke the peace, his ears perking at the condolence lacing your voice. “I know you wanted an escape and I’m sorry I haven’t been of much help.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Why are you blaming yourself for something that should only matter to him? He has free will and range to get up and take the next taxi or bus to neighboring towns. You shouldn’t blame yourself for his decisions.

Escapism might not have come to him in the way intended but everyday has become a new experience for him. “Don’t… I promise that even picking up droppings is something new for me.” He rebuttals your claim, mirroring the same apologetic look you give him. “Y/n… I’ve been coddled all my life, this entire experience has been a new step for me and I feel like Bambi, positively.” He smiles, widely enough that it’s the first time you notice his deep dimples.

You sigh, unsure if it’s from relief, pash, or in between. 

“Yeah, okay… I was in your shoes too when I began to stay as a caretaker. I’ve done all of this when I would visit but it was not as intense as it is now. I don’t mind, I’m here to help. I have to.” It sounds melancholic and he’s not sure how to interpret it.

Avoiding it you look around to see he’s done a good job. You’re actually very well impressed, the words that were meant to leave your mouth surely were appreciative but they’re shoved back down your throat when you attempt to stand up. It’s almost like his presence dumbifies you. Like you forget the world around you, manifesting itself in your careless and clueless actions like resting your open hand on a cactus while trying to stand up just to bring him comforting words. 

Instead he’s met with your yelp as you prick your hand, head, and shoulder in the process of standing and tumbling down. Whitey’s karma has served you, he bleats mockingly when you keep on hurting yourself within the premise of his home. 

Instinctively Jaehyun rushes to you, concerned and scared of what this could illicit. He isn’t safe of Whitey’s wrath, not when he helped you and has decreed the young brunette is of your interest. Rushing to your aid, Jaehyun doesn’t count on one of the sheep to leave her droppings on the path he’s taking. Fresh and new, it wasn’t difficult for Jaehyun to find himself slipping straight into the cactus that has served your own aches.

They say laughter is the best medicine. Both you and Jaehyun attempt it when your eyes meet but the throbbing is far more intense that you synchronize in wailing. Loud and tuneless, enough to drag out your grandmother from the kitchen and force laughter out of Ollie and your grandfather who were arriving from their daily duties.

Camila doesn’t stay too behind in her own laughter. You fear all the livestock was against you two or perhaps rooting for you in the most vicious way. It’s rotten to know this is the start of your shared misery and ache.

The accident had forced your grandparents to make it up to you both the following day. Early in the morning your grandfather drove you all to a neighboring town. Ollie groggily dragged himself out of his home despite his father’s complaints that he was being a burden. You reassured him he was always welcomed, your grandfather scolded his dad. Yelling at him to stop trying to force ideas in the boy’s head. 

Jaehyun had taken in the scenery on his taxi drive although he’s convinced something is different this time. Aside from your grandfather teasing everyone when driving along the edge of the mountains, Ollie clinging to you ready to cry as if he didn’t surpass all of you in height.

It takes roughly an hour and a half to arrive at the destination and almost another to find parking they eventually found was free and available behind a cathedral. Everyone laughs at each other for missing it when minutes prior your grandfather was ready to turn the car around, hangry and annoyed at how this damn town was overcrowded with no parking spots.

For once he felt like an actual tourist, visiting the restaurant you all loved and gorging himself with the most delicious meal he’s ever tasted in his life – besides his mother’s cooking, of course! For reassurance, she will witness how happy he looked while eating through the picture you managed to snap of him.

After the meal, your grandparents attempted to walk for digestion but age made them give up as soon as you all reached the town’s plaza. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, you saw no problem with it, they’re together. All they asked was to bring them those donuts they loved dearly and a soda to share. Ollie took it in his hands to beat you to it. Now there you and Jaehyun stood looking at the elderly couple sat before you.

At the time it didn’t feel like a scheme but looking back at it, Jaehyun is sure you figured it out as well. 

Despite the accident, you both went back to the timidness that sheltered you both. Stolen glances and polite smiles when caught, stopping here and there to take pictures of the architecture and culture. He wouldn’t tell you, but a good portion were candids of you. You look so pretty that he could not avoid capturing the only remnants of you he could keep. 

Both try small talk, history pointers whenever reaching old buildings – most consisted of luring him away from hustlers. You’d laugh after every successful attempt and reward yourself with street snacks that he’d find too salty or too sweet, still delicious enough to risk getting scolded by his physician if it meant enjoying the wonders of life.

The day might have ended with shy conversations and laughs but both could testify that comfort is what surrounded you most. On his end he felt safe and secure, comfortable enough to laugh at anything you said because in whatever way he looked at it, your presence forced glee onto him. Warmth and comfort is what you would best describe it as and that’s what you have learnt care feels like.

Your grandmother began going easy on you after the accident and outing. You felt like a teenager visiting your grandparents again with how little she left for you to do and how she forced you to go out more often. Encouraging you to enjoy your summer as well while showing Jaehyun around.

Jaehyun is sure this was her way to make both of you appreciate the limited shared time. He’s thankful enough for it but bitter towards himself for losing some weeks at the start.

You began showing him around other towns. On times you went grocery shopping and he’d beat you to paying for it (his form of appreciation), he’d throw in a peach or two. His favorite, you figured. 

At the neighboring market, he’d buy fridge magnets, five for the price of a large one. All which represented his favorite snacks he’s consumed during these days. You still remember teasing him for buying a mini replica magnet of a beer bottle. Later at home while rocking on a chair he showed you a layout of how he’d arrange them on his fridge. In the meantime, you helped him decorate the door to his room, enjoying the air the fan blew at both.

When it rained, Ollie forced both to dance under the cold drops. Enjoy life as you should, he justified. At night, he’d dragged you both to the night market. Showing Jaehyun his favorite drinks and laugh when you scold him for drinking like an old man with kidney issues. He would joke about you and Jaehyun being his parents and would even grab your hands to skip in between both when it was so easy for him to drag you down. Damn him and his tall genes.

He’d drag the joke far enough to reach home where your grandparents never missed the opportunity to throw in a “Take your brat with you.” whenever Ollie was available and you were to show Jaehyun around. Neither of you minded, Ollie was silent enough to let you two bask in each other’s presence and playful enough for you two to feel at ease and content. 

In another universe, this would reign true and not a fragment of a life you’re all creating that was never to bloom.

After three months the festivities had reached your village and vendors from all around the country settled by the plaza. Intrigued at first and fascinated by what they sold, poor Jaehyun fell victim to one of the home goods sellers. Spending a large amount buying your grandmother some pots, pans, a set of dishes, and stools as a token of appreciation. He went overboard but was happy to help, blinded by the cheap prices. Jaehyun should’ve known something was off, he knows you would have talked him out of it but you had been arguing with another vendor that they took advantage of the painfully obvious foreigner in the meantime.

When arriving home and seeing he had been robbed, you got ready to argue and force them to give him his money back. He protested despite being defeated and sad he was swindled. He convinced you but not your grandparents and Ollie. The three had taken matters into their own hands while you two fetched salt blocks to replace in the pen. By the time you got back, Ollie’s hair was far more ruffled than usual and his face red while your grandfather laughed, taking a sip of his beer, clanking it with your grandmother’s. On the kitchen bar, Jaehyun’s money was laid out. Every single cent and interest returned to him, money he used to invite all to dinner and dessert with a gift of their choice.

Ollie wore his tonight. Gleefully trotting through the threshold of the gate, careful to not scuff the boots Jaehyun gladly bought while singing to gain attention. Jaehyun laid on bed, scribbling his thoughts on his days, one-liners here and there and far more of the noises you’ve made. In addition the lyrics to the song Ollie sang before your grandmother told him to stop before he ate a fly.

Fireworks had been going off all day and neighbor’s music loudened with their gates open. This wasn’t new but it seemed to be far more intense today out of all days. “Why aren’t you ready? You’re not going to the fair?” Ollie questions, out of breath and frantic to see your grandparents sitting on their chairs enjoying today’s weather with a cup of soda in one hand and pastries in the other. 

Talks about a fair had not gone in deaf ears throughout the past three weeks but Jaehyun paid it no mind when he saw that no one else seemed concerned – besides Ollie. It seemed to be a big thing when he noticed more carps, games, and rides fully covering the plaza.

“Don’t think we will be going, Ol. Their knees hurt.” Your voice manifests itself, forcing Jaehyun to sit up and put away his journal. You had been doing some chores outside his room. Hanging laundry and watering the plants, the product of everything he’s written and attempted to draw today.

He follows outside, Ollie greets him, a mischievous smile on his lips forming an idea. “Why not? I’ll drive if you want! Do it for Jaehyun, he’s never going to experience this again.”

Ollie’s childish intuition strikes again, this time in the form of a gash against both of your chests. 

You both knew it was true but reality is what Jaehyun wanted to escape and you had made sure to enable him. It just so happens that you have fallen victim to it as well.

No matter, he said he wanted to stay months so it should still be far along in the future. You think so… you implore.

Perceptive is a word to describe your grandparents. Despite their ache they figure it is not as big as the one brewing in the depths of your conscious and heart. As best as they can, they agree with the younglin and head inside to get ready.

Ollie is ecstatic, he’s always been a fan of these things but now that he was of age, he could enjoy it more with a drink or two. Not to mention things like these are grounds for finding partners and like any town boy who hasn’t found one, he’s looking forward to it. That’s what he tells you and Jaehyun at least but he knows he’ll spend his night looking after your grandparents, far more giddy about you two together.

He had been smart enough to put cinder blocks early in the morning in a parking spot front and center from the fair, forcing Jaehyun out of the car to move and put them behind the car once he parked so no one would block them. Perfect was his plan that once everyone got out of the car, his friends that occupied a bench scattered like roaches to give their seat to your grandparents. Both elders find it comical seeing right through Ollie. 

Arriving just in time for the parade, all queen candidates drove around in their elaborately decorated transportation. Colors flying around similar to their presentation favors, many which ended up hitting both Jaehyun and Ollie in the head. The older of the two made sure to take pictures of it while Ollie complained, claiming he was glad he didn’t vote for whoever hit him. The new reigning queen didn’t appear until the end. It was far more of a social economic competition. Whoever paid more won therefore it wasn’t surprising when a queen from years prior won again.

“You should’ve signed up, you would’ve won, Y/n.” Ollie elbows you, received with an eye roll. “Right, Jaehyun?” That devious brat, always finding a way to make you miserable. You try not to turn to Jaehyun, yet his gaze is so intense that it forces you to do so slowly. His face, decorated with that usually wide smile that emphasized his dimples, eyes squinting in glee when yours finally meet his. Candidness and benevolence lacing his voice.

“Yes, you would have won, Y/n.” 

That was enough footing for Ollie to shoo both of you away, promising to take care of your grandparents while you had fun. Your attempts at protest are futile, your grandparents helping Ollie in his mission. Buying the three something to eat in the process before parting ways, promising it’ll be fast.

It’s not fast, it’s a brisk walk that both you and Jaehyun enjoy. Struggling to not lose each other within the masses going opposite or in the same direction. He jokes about feeling like a meerkat in a sea of gazelles, you laugh but he’s sure you don’t find it funny. At least he’s glad you humor him.

You entertain him through food. Buying tornado potatoes, plain and simple. He mentions having eaten these when he lived in Connecticut. You ask him about the state and what it’s like, you’re not too thrilled nor believe him when he says it’s boring. As an attempt to remove the connection, you drizzle hot sauce on one half of the potatoes. Scared but willing to try it, Jaehyun lets you feed him the first broken off bit. It’s enjoyable at first, soon his face blends with the lights behind him. Red and bright as he begins to cough. Now he will only think of this when it comes to the snack.

You both laugh at it, as an apology you buy him a drink. A piña colada for him and a michelada for you, it should work enough to ease both of your bashfulness. He couldn’t eat anything from the drizzled side, leaving those for you whilst he munched on the dry. Giving you sips here and there from his drink to cool down the fire in your mouth. He teases you for choosing a spicy drink when you’re eating far more spice, receiving him with an eye roll and “You don’t know what life is about.”

Finishing that, he dragged you to a game. You’d like to think he found it far more odd because of the mini stripper animatronics in the center of all the glass bottles but he reassures you the life-size gremlin doll pissing on people was more alluring – and disturbing. It didn’t stop him from attempting to win a decrepit pale Winnie the Pooh bear.

He had spent a good amount of time trying for it, towards the end he required your help. You had been nagging him throughout the entire game to not spend more money on the game, that it was most likely rigged but when it was your turn and managed to burst all bottles, then it became a skill issue. 

Jaehyun mopped about it, you figured the bear would bring him comfort. He held it for seconds to soon return it with a bright smile. You try rejecting it, he had been fighting hard for it so it was confusing why he didn’t want it. You thought it had to do with the principle of the winner takes it all; it wasn’t the case. 

He confessed he had wanted to get it for you and only felt bummed that he wasn’t able to but that you should keep it irregardless as a token of his appreciation and care for you, to give your Garfield some company. The moment would’ve been sweet if the booth attendant didn’t make that stupid doll spritz it’s faux piss your way, forcing you to flee while cursing him out with laughs in between.

That was the beginning of your journey through halls and carps, stepping out here and there to get on children’s rides that warrant glares from parents. Jaehyun joked about dragging Ollie so he could ride the caterpillar rollercoaster with him and have you take pictures of a father with his kid. Jaehyun is now playing along with the fantasy Ollie has created. You don’t know whether to laugh or let the ache in your heart manifest.

You end at the ferris wheel only a few feet away. In the process of calming each other’s laughter, the noises of people and music filled the silence. Comforting as the day you met, walking through the market and buying produce for that day’s meal. It makes Jaehyun think about how far you two have gone. How one little incident with a cactus has led to having the time of your lives nearing the highest point of the ride.

You’ve felt the warmth and softness of his touch. Felt his care and appreciation through every little act yet you yearn and crave for more from him. Your body and soul know there is more both can offer, although frightened that you’ve misinterpreted his lingering gazes and gestures.

“When I was younger my mom had decided that we would spend every summer with my grandparents and aunt. I hadn’t been here since I was five for her grandpa’s funeral so it meant nothing the first few weeks. The first year, even.”

Jaehyun turns, intrigued. “Then when my mom would make the long distance calls and send letters, my grandpa would joke around how I didn’t want to visit them at all – that I hated it here, similar to how he does with you. I didn’t hate it, I think I just wasn’t familiar with the lifestyle in comparison to back home where I don’t have to worry about if there’s hot running water.”

His hand inches closer to you. “In attempts to prove him wrong, I spent my time here helping him with the animals, going grocery shopping with him and my cousins and it drew me closer to this. After the second summer, we spent Christmas here too and the weather killed me but they seemed so happy that I joined.” 

Your laugh comforts him. He thinks about the times he’s attempted to help and failed your grandparents, it only dawns upon him that things take time and he shouldn’t dwell on them too much.

“Then in my last summer of college, I had taken an internship that promised a job right out of college– obviously it was a lie, I’m here.” You laugh bitterly. “I missed time with my family and my grandma ended up in the hospital. I felt so guilty the remainder of the year, even during winter break. I felt like it was my fault, that my absence was the small piece of the puzzle that could ruin it all.”

Jaehyun felt and heard the remorse in your voice, he felt the need to find a way to ease it with no avail, feeling as inutile as when the ram tackled you. It’s imprinted in his brain that no matter what, it will weigh on his shoulders that he’s not able to help no matter how much he tries.

“And I think the universe is funny and cruel enough that when the internship dropped me and said all vacancies were occupied, my aunt was the one to fall ill next. Forcing her back home with her own family. It was its way to make it up to me, as horrible as it sounds.”

You share a sigh, he takes your hand in his, reassuringly. You don't want comfort words, he knows that, he knows this is enough for you. “I think what I first felt when visiting is what you feel now with the exception that you actually have so much to do out there…” Jaehyun’s actions halt, lifting his head to look at your sorrow filled eyes.

He shakes his head, trying to convince himself and you. He clings to the delusion everyone helped create in hopes to be good hosts. He still has time, Jaehyun has time, he wants to believe it so please don’t shatter his joy so quickly, please!

“It’s okay, Jaehyun. You have to publish your book, we’ll always be here for you as they’ve been for me.” He’s not too sure how true that is. Life is never consistent nor forgiving, he’s learnt that in harsh ways. People’s care is conditional and based on time and familiarity, he’s been at the end of that stick.

Your hand takes purchase on his cheek, consoling him for what you have just said. You didn’t intend to cause this but you have to prepare yourself for what you’ve known all along. “I don’t think I want to go back and risk anything.” He mutters, eyes softening the longer he looks at you, the ride feels endless.

“You must… All there is for you here is inspiration.” They’re meant to comfort him but it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself that you’ll be fine when he leaves. Jaehyun’s lips part ready to speak, words muted by the fireworks going off. Midnight has hit, it’s a brand new day and it’s received with pyrokinetic colors that aim to diffuse the pain he feels.

They illuminate your face, a smile forming in awe of how pretty they look. Not as pretty as you, Jaehyun is sure of that the longer he stares with the same smile on his face you adore. “I’ve found the life I needed all along.” His touch on your cheek brings you back to him, dumbfounded with what he meant. Inquiries answered upon feeling his lips softly land on yours.

Hands softly cradle your face, eyelashes tickling your cheek as you get a taste of him. It’s so soft and tender that you want to be here for the rest of the night, drowning the noises around you. If you’ve felt heaven before, it doesn’t compare to being with him like you are now. 

The crowded path didn’t feel claustrophobic, like it was just you two in the sea of booths, fluorescent lights and fireworks. The music drowned, his grasp on you doing its best to keep you with him for whatever time is left for you two.

He hadn’t noticed at what point you both had gone back until Ollie stepped in between you two. “So? Did you like it?” The giddy young boy questions, a bottle of beer in his hand, compliments from his cousin – your grandparents with their own as well, watching. Jaehyun nods, glancing at you. “More than anything.” He smiles widely, hypnotizing dimples present. 

Ollie giggles, a chant as he jumps near your grandparents telling them something that neither of you manage to hear, distracted by the shocking ice-cold bottle shoved into your hands. Your grandfather had been talking to your grandmother, both laughing about judgments thrown at people around them. Mean, yes, but it’s not often that they bond about things anymore.

The elder’s leg had been bouncing as they talked, cackling in the process of drowning whatever was left in the bottle. Jaehyun took notice of this, turning to the group playing up on stage a few feet away. People around were dancing, some seemed to enjoy themselves, others not too much – the only thing that mattered was the ambient and showing face. 

Jaehyun approaches your grandpa, asking if he was having a good time. The older of the two nodded, responding by showing the new bottle Ollie handed him. You scold both of them to not drink too much but they shush you. “It’s a party, Y/n. Liven up.” Ollie laughs, alcohol having gotten into his stream, demonstrated on how clumsily he clinks his bottle with yours and everyone else's. “Come on, let’s dance instead.” Pulling you in for a quick little shuffle. He’s not a great dancer, he knows it. He also knows his joy brings joy to your grandparents and you’ll do anything for them to maintain it.

You entertain Ollie, dancing despite him having already stepped on you multiple times. Apologizing with whines and puppy eyes that make you laugh. You push him off after a while, helping your grandfather up so he could dance with you. He’s overjoyed, finally having the opportunity to do what he loves so much, a pity your grandmother is the opposite. She’s content enough with just watching.

Jaehyun smiles, laughing in glee at how the ambient fuels his emotions. His own body swaying ever so slightly, brain trying to formulate how to dance to music he’s never heard. He thinks he gets it, it doesn’t seem too hard but he could be proven wrong and become Ollie’s mirror.

Your grandmother, ever so insightful, watches with a glint of content with how well he has adapted to the culture. Although, far more interested in the way his eyes don’t leave you. His ears are red, brighter than the light illuminating the stage and the municipal office. Jaehyun may try to hide how he feels, you may try, but she’s older and wiser. She’ll always know when love is around.

“Go ask her for a dance.” She elbows him to catch his attention, Jaehyun had been holding your grandfather’s seat. The mention alone caused his ears to brighten, crimson migrating to his face. He tries not to smile, it so happens to be that his muscles are treacherous and they emphasize the lines of his smile, deepening those dimples you love. 

Jaehyun shakes his head. Convince her that it’s okay, that he would rather watch, something she won’t allow. “Don’t coward away. When’s the next time you’ll get the chance?” Jaehyun ignores the heavy meaning of her words, he prefers to ignore the reality that slowly creeps in. Regardless, he nods, taking in the other point of view. He thanks her with a smile, standing up to walk towards you. Sacks of nervousness weighing him down, making his hands sweat.

“Mind if I take her from you?” Jaehyun clears his throat, head tilting, pleading. The older man cackles, pure and utter joy that Jaehyun has made a move. Frantically he nods, agreeing by pushing you towards the brunette who seems just as ecstatic as your grandfather. Given persimmon, Jaehyun takes your hand in his. Awkwardly figuring out how else he should position himself.

You watch amusedly, hiding your smile by pressing your lips together as if your cheeks and eyes were not a dead giveaway. “What makes you think I wanted to dance with you?” You tease, correcting where his hands and feet should go. The smile you try hard to hide slowly creeps in. Jaehyun doesn’t mind exposing his own, giggling when you begin to lead. “What’s this then?” He plays along, moving his feet and knees according to what he had examined. Raising your shoulders in a shrug, you don’t hold back your smile, a giggle following. “A lesson.” 

The dance doesn’t go smoothly, you have to teach him between laughs, both yours and his with your family’s in the background but he manages. Even if you all think his dancing is horrible, as bad as Ollie’s, the younger one takes the opportunity to capture you two dancing with Jaehyun’s camera. If there’s something to remember, it is this night and the love that has finally come into fruition.

The flash blinds you, stopping you two from dancing and even though Ollie whines for you two to continue, you both claim your feet ache. It’s not a lie on your end but the coyness from your family seeing you with a potential partner is a bigger deal.

It’s past two in the morning, obvious in the way your grandparents hide their yawns from your view, hoping to not ruin your night further. “Want to go home?” You walk towards them, a hand on your hip and genuine concern on your face. They admit they are tired but don’t want to go home no matter how much you insist. Ollie offers to drive them home while you and Jaehyun stay back longer but you’ve been away from them this entire night that you cannot fathom the idea any longer.

Ollie and your grandparents can try to convince you with the same story about Jaehyun’s limited time but that wasn’t going to work now. No, you stick to your guns and manage to get them in the car. Ollie had drank far more than all of you so he wasn’t apt to drive, instead Jaehyun volunteered, something that had excited your grandfather the most.

After removing the cinder blocks and putting them back in the trunk, Ollie walks towards your window, bidding everyone goodnight. You nag him, worried that he was drinking too much. He receives you with an “Okay, mom!”, the same phrase he’s been throwing around ever since Jaehyun had reached a month’s stay. It managed to get a laugh out of your grandparents, even from you and Jaehyun but it didn’t change that you still lightly swat his hand. “I’m serious, Ollie. Don’t drink anymore, stay back a bit but not too late, Okay?” 

The worry in your eyes makes him relent, nodding before kissing your cheek goodnight and shaking Jaehyun’s hand. The interaction forced a smile on his face, every single aspect of your tenderness making him melt more.

As the moon is his witness, Jaehyun has fallen in love with this village and you. Gracious the stars are that once you manage to get your grandparents in bed and meet Jaehyun in the kitchen, the two of you quietly make your way outside with nothing but moonlight to illuminate you.

“Want some coffee?” You ask, fingers familiarizing themselves with the texture of those yellow walls. “Do you not want to sleep?” He laughs, taking those same fingers to familiarize with the tenderness of his lips. The action makes your breath hitch. 

“Perhaps…”

His eyes meet yours, inching closer to capture your lips in another tender kiss. His hands find purchase on your waist, your arms wrap around his shoulders. It’s sweet and soft, his tongue managing to slip in your mouth to waltz with your own. The soft muscle forces a delighted sigh, one that he swallows graciously.

When neither can hold it for much longer, you separate, smiling like two fools. “So no coffee, then?” You laugh, one he reciprocates with a nod. “Too bitter, not as sweet as you.” The flirtatious remark is received with a laugh.

“You’re so cheesy.” You claim. “It’s worth it if it makes you laugh – it’s what I like to hear everyday.”

Jaehyun’s expression is serious, the adoration in his eyes letting you know how he feels. He may not pin a word to it but you can see his yearning and longing. You try to be in the same cloud he is in, to ignore the dooming reality but you can’t. You appreciate his affection and you reciprocate it but you also don’t want to become delusional.

“Jaehyun…” Your head drops, avoiding his look. He thinks he’s done something wrong and it aches horribly. “Yeah?” He squeaks meekly, head moving in hopes to see your eyes, to understand how the atmosphere became so somber. “How serious are you about this? You know how things are an–” 

“Don’t… Please don’t bring that up.” He begs, eyes shutting, no longer in need to understand what you meant. “You can’t act like you don’t have a life outside of here. You may stay all you want but eventually you will go back – there’s more to life than this for you.” Your head lifts, vulnerability not as heavy as his.

He tries to drown out your words, this night has gone too well for things to fall off already. He doesn’t want it to be bittersweet. Sure he can stay all he wants until it’s time to publish his book but he will come back so why are you being so cruel to him?

“Nothing compares to this, Y/n.” He holds your hands, hoping his warmth lets you know how much you’re hurting him but also how much he loves you. You shake your head, a small smile of unbelievability. “You’ve been here for three months, that’s still fine and dandy. It’s not like truly living here.” 

His eyebrows furrow, refusing to listen. “But you still love it here. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.” His voice quivers, frightened that this is your way of ripping his heart out.

You sigh, squeezing his hands. “I do, I love it but I also think that I’ve been looking at this place through the same glasses you’re looking through. What I’m getting at is that, in the long run you’ll get bored, everyone I know has and they’ve left… Who knows, maybe even Ollie will leave and it’ll leave me here because no matter how hard I try to make a life out there, it doesn’t love me back.”

Jaehyun was perplexed, eyes scanning your face. He knows you’re projecting, that you don’t want to get attached despite already having done so, he hopes you could see inside him to understand that he doesn’t ever want to leave. He doesn’t want to leave you.

His hands cradle your face, kissing your eyelids, cheeks, nose, and lips for reassurance. “I can always come back. After publishing whatever I have in hand, I will always come back. You are the life that I needed all along, Y/n.” His whisper is heavy and sincere, the glimmer in both your eyes, evidence to what both feel.

Words don’t describe what you two feel, no matter how heavy they hang on your tongues. No, it’s best that you share it in another tender kiss that the stars and moon witness. Both end the conversation, convinced that the love you two port is stronger than the universe’s will.

Quick glances and kisses are stolen for the following weeks, everyone knows what both feel but it’s more exciting if you pretend as if this love is forbidden despite the encouragement and approval of your family. Ollie teases you two about the brewing romance, pretending to act like he didn’t say anything regarding it when you correct him that nothing is happening. It’s like a game for all of you, one that you all indulge in for the sake of excitement.

You had all agreed upon visiting a thermal spring this morning, the drive was somewhat long and it was best to arrive before other people did. Ollie was the most excited about it, he had begged his family to let him go for days until they agreed. It just so happens to be that the universe doesn’t often like to see him happy; you don’t appreciate that.

Ollie had arrived with a glum look on his face, saddened eyes when he sat in his usual seat next to the chimney. Jaehyun approached him with a cup of hot chocolate and a pat to his head. Your grandma didn’t take long to question the reason behind his state but he only sighed.

“They moved the pension collection to today. The offices will be closed until next month for remodeling so you two have to go in before the line gets long.” His lip juts out, looking at everyone with puppy eyes. 

You ruffle his hair, rubbing his back comfortingly. “We can go tomorrow, Ollie. Don’t worry…” You mimic his pout, his head rests on your hip, pressure tickling your hip bone. “No… Dad is taking me with him out of town for a few weeks to help with the ranch that hired him.” He doesn’t dare look at anyone. It’s not the first time he was taken to different places in the country but when they came back his dad usually kept Ollie locked in for a while until he became unbearable to keep in. It’s as if he relishes in your joint misery.

Jaehyun throws you a look, looking for ways to solve this crisis. He knows you don’t like the news, he hates them too. He’s grown so fond of Ollie that knowing he’s the first to go is causing a small turmoil in his chest. Sure, he may be back and Jaehyun will still be here but one never knows how things may turn out. 

“What if you and Jaehyun go? I have to take my grandparents for their pension so you two enjoy.” Ollie wishes things were that easy but his childish intuition fears that time is coming short and if you don’t spend more time with Jaehyun, he’ll feel guilty for whatever ending comes.

Ollie shakes his head, standing up. “No, it’s fine. You and him go. I’m going to take my dad anyway so I can take them too.” He attempts to smile even if he can’t. It dawns upon you that missing the trip isn’t his concern but not seeing any of you for God knows how long is what’s killing him. 

You try to deny, shake your head in protest. Jaehyun does so as well, it’s not that he doesn’t want time alone with you but knowing this is his last day with Ollie for a while is killing him. Your grandparents hadn’t said anything up until this point. They weren’t fond of swimming, they never did.

“Ollie is right, you two go.” Your grandmother spoke, standing to grab her purse. “I can’t leave you two, what if you need help?” You attempt and they protest, your grandfather jumping in by throwing in Jaehyun’s limited time. It seems they’re all far more in tune with reality than you two.

You don’t know how or when but they managed to convince you and Jaehyun to go. Both attempted to protest and cancel the trip all together but here you were, in your grandfather’s old and chipped red ford. The seats torn apart, a blanket hiding away its imperfections. The red leather of the dashboard hot under Jaehyun’s touch, its form of showing that you two being left alone was real.

That now you didn’t have to talk through a window in the bathroom to spend some alone time. You didn’t have to climb on the sink and hit your head on the roof just to see his face through the mangled chicken wire and be received by concrete flakes on your lips and eyelashes whenever you attempt to kiss through it. No, here you were able to hold hands and kiss without fear of being caught (even if it didn’t matter – everyone knew).

The roads were messy and bumpy, dirt flew all around which forced you to keep the windows rolled-up despite the sun’s rays being hotter than the actual weather. Worse off is that once he came out of the truck, a gust of cold breeze rained upon him. Showing him everything he had missed while struggling with heat and keeping dust out of your airways. 

It was a reward but also mockery, to him at least because you remained unphased, rejoicing on how lonely it was. “Reckon everyone is getting their pension, too?” You ask, hands on your hips, ripping some overgrown grass by your feet to make sure no venomous critters are around.

Jaehyun shrugs, letting his focus remain on his surroundings. It was amazing for him to see how deserted and destroyed this place was. Overgrown yellowing grass that stray cattle eat, ruins of houses from colonial towns signaling the fleeing of whoever had inhabited them before; your grandfather had later explained that the location was a town destroyed in the process of gaining independence.

What was prettier to him was the body of water he was here for. Multiple trees around, so green and alive in comparison to the remaining vegetation. The water is so clear and warm that he could see the steam rise the closer he got.

“Like it?” You question, to his side with towels on your shoulders. Jaehyun’s head whips, a smile on his face upon reaching for your hand, “It’s beautiful.” His fingers interlace with yours, camera in hand positioning it an arms length away when he takes the initiative to lean down and kiss you, capturing it all on film.

You shove him playfully, rushing to a dry rock where you can leave your possessions. He chases after you, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Your instinct to look away is something he does not miss and it causes a blush to creep up on his face.

He takes in the temperature of the water with his feet. Jumping back when he realizes it’s hotter than what he’s experiencing right now. “It’s not that bad.” You call out, pulling down on the bottoms of your dress swimsuit. Your smile softly falters when he doesn’t respond, rather his attention is set on how pretty you look.

The trees sway, leaving empty slots for the sunrays to seep through, illuminating you. Seemingly purposely done, to put you on a pedestal for him to look at with nothing else but admiration. That blush he had earlier rose again, one he’ll pretend is due to the water’s temperature.

“What are you looking at?” You tease, smile back on. Jaehyun approaches you with a shrug, shirt unbuttoned halfway. His fingers thread over the fabric of the straps, such a pretty lace decorated with satin red ribbon forming a bow at the front. “You.” He smiles, warm fingers touching your arms in hopes to feel closer than he already is in all senses. You don’t respond but he’s aware that the look you give him is fond.

Your hands mimic his, finding their way to his shirt and helping him undo the last few buttons, pushing off the linen to free his flesh and let it be kissed by the breeze – something you can only wish for. Once off you toss it to the pile of clothes and towels, cocking your head for him to follow you into the water. It’s glistening and steaming, soothing once his feet acclimate.

Silent sounds escape both, little by little submerging yourselves – your hands not letting go in any instance. “My mom and aunt loved to come here. They’re hypochondriacs – at least my mom is– always claiming a trip here was healing, holistic. Forcing my grandparents to put their feet in at least so the warmth would take away any aches.” Jaehyun could see how your free hand rubbed at your knees, mimicking their action. 

“Pretty sure they take from my grandma but my grandpa was more of a people pleaser so he’d tell them he felt much better just so they wouldn’t feel bad. I don’t really see how this can take away all your aches. I get that it can help temporarily but not permanently.” Your shrug and words may tell him so but Jaehyun can tell that your vigorous rubbing at your own joints was a form of subconsciously believing them.

“Maybe… It seems like a mutual interaction of comfort and understanding. Your mom and aunt try their best for their parents to feel better about their bodies wearing down and in turn they receive praise and appreciation from them.” 

Your hand stops its action, looking up at him with a hum. “I guess so.” You mutter, letting go of him to float on your back. “The writer in you just had to make it so philosophical.” he can hear the smile on your lips, your feet playfully kicking some water onto him to which he laughs, responding by splashing you too. Calling a truce when he was winning this battle.

As a way to comfort, he pulls you in for a hug. Your back to his chest, head resting on his shoulder and holding onto a railing to not float away far deeper. If it was for Jaehyun, he’d love to stay like this until it was time to go. For once in this entire trip you two have been truly left alone. No more sneaking kisses and late night talks through the bathroom window. It was just you and him an hour away from civilization with only the cattle as witness to the love you two didn’t speak about but embraced. 

There is nothing more Jaehyun wants than to have more time with you. He wonders if things would have been different if he had fallen for you much earlier or if you had. He’s not fully sure how much you love him, he knows you’re stuck on him leaving sometime in the future which is what hinders this from going forward but he truly wishes you could see that he has no intent on leaving soon or for too long. 

What if he had helped you clean the pen earlier? That would have meant spending more time with you and more outings with your family, surely. On the other hand, what if he had been useful enough during planting? It’s evident he would have never gotten close to you beside cordiality in the mornings and afternoons for meals and trips to the market. 

Jaehyun cannot think of a world where this trip would result in you two not becoming closer. He can’t fathom not getting to know and falling in love with you.

Sensing his pensiveness, you turn your head, looking up at him with a questioning look that he could only interpret as trying to read his mind. He’s noticed that quirk, the way your head tilts and your lips quiver in a way to mutter a “hm” without voicing it. He makes sure to receive it with a smile, leaning in to peck your lips that surely help you abandon your actions.

“It’s a bummer Ollie didn’t come.” He attempts to distract. “Would have been nice seeing him have some fun before leaving.” There’s more to what he had said. Jaehyun wanted to add ‘before I leave’ into his sentence, it’s hanging on his tongue despite how much his brain and heart attempt to keep him wrapped around his delusion of perpetual happiness.

“I think so too.” your body twists within his arms, facing him. “I was thinking of making his favorite meal for dinner once we get back. His dad always returns him skinnier and paler than how he leaves, I need him to keep his cheeks plump, don’t you think?” Your exclamation forces a chuckle out of him, nodding in response. 

“Help me find a gift for him too, then?”  “Don’t spoil him too much, he’ll be an even bigger pain than he already is.” “Oh come on, don’t be so mean to the kid. Let me, please…” Jesus, if anyone was to hear you two they’d think you’re talking about a child and not a nineteen year old. But that’s what Ollie is to you both. A child you saw as yours or your brother that Jaehyun would spoil while you scold him no matter how much you loved him. You’d reckon Ollie’s presence kept you sane even if he often teased you but his nature was enough to bring entertainment for you and joy for your grandparents. If Jaehyun looks back at it, Ollie reminds him of the young boy he met in that taxi on the way to that village. 

Reluctantly (faking so) you agree, rolling your eyes before pushing him off to swim away from him. He doesn’t stay too behind, chasing you for what feels like forever. Overworking your body for hours in such a hot body of water had rendered exhausting for both to the point that you basically had to drag each other out of the water just to lay on the cool metal ramp, gasping for air acclimation to avoid fainting. Jaehyun was far more concerned with you when he didn’t hear you speaking nor felt you moving, calming when you stick your tongue out at him for his nosiness although all you wanted was to see him smile.

“You complain about Ollie but it seems like the real brat here is you!” He exclaims, gaining momentum to swing his legs onto both sides of you. “Cry about it.” You mutter, a smile on your face; his hair hangs off, fuzzy around his eyes and dripping onto your cheeks. “Or… maybe I should do something to correct it.” His hair tickles your face, sticking to your cheeks the more his lips linger on them, testing the waters.

He relents when your arms wrap around his shoulders, leaving him flush over your body with nothing left but your lips to connect. They’re cold and pillowy, soft against your own just like his hands when they find purchase on your waist, holding you near as if the spring water below you will drag you out of his grasp, the last thing he needs. 

Jaehyun is gentle in the way he holds and kisses you. His hands knead your skin, warming against it the more they roam around to hold you closer. Your fingers thread through his hair, sending shivers down his spine that causes him to sigh into the kiss, enough for your tongue to slip through and deepen the kiss. The intensity rose, his hands felt much hotter against your skin the lower they went, scalding when one of them grips your upper thigh –avoiding the bruising from whitey’s assault– helping it raise to rest on his hip.

Tongues mingle amongst each other, the taste of the mango juice he drank earlier still coating it to which you enjoy against your own. The thin film of saliva on both of your lips helps them slot smoothly in a far more pleasant kiss. Jaehyun’s fingers knew how to tease you, tips tickling your inner thigh that forced small groans which begged him for more. 

More, more, more – Jaehyun would have given you everything if it wasn’t for the faint sound of music blaring and tires pushing dirt through Cattle began mooing, warning you of company joining, spoiling whatever comfort you two had.

You scramble to grab the towels, Jaehyun helps you, drying you off with his own and taking the remaining items under his arm to help you towards the truck, staying guard while you change into dry clothes coming in when you knock against the window. He doesn’t bother changing, claiming the air will dry him well enough upon. 

You cross paths with the incoming truck, nodding your heads in acknowledgment before embarking on another long ride. Small talk made here and there, he speaks about how much this road reminds him of Western America: dry vegetation and barely any trees insight but with lively mountains that shield anyone from the sun. You tell him that it seems interesting how he describes that part while detesting Connecticut but he laughs and shrugs. 

It’s not long until you stop at a gas station, the truck nearly empty and he still had to change into some dry clothes. He met you inside, walking through the aisles in search of a snack for whatever was left of the ride. 

Jaehyun doesn’t share your sentiment. He finds himself distracted by a corner of toys, a bright red truck similar to the one you’re transporting through catching his eye. It glimmers under the sun rays that make way through the window panels. Jaehyun thinks it would be a good gift for Ollie, a menial one for now.

Paying for the items and heading outside with you hand in hand, Jaehyun recalls seeing a photobooth by the bathrooms. He pulls you along with no response to your questions, motioning with his head for you to push through the red velvet curtain. The first image is neutral enough, smiling while looking directly at the mirror, the flash comes in and you two hold each other. By the last two flashes it resulted in engraving the image of you two kissing.

You laugh at him for sneaking in a kiss and having it on film, he shrugs you off knowing that it was an image he’d like to see at all times and he’s hopeful you do too. You still needed to wait for at least four minutes for the film strips to develop, leading Jaehyun to slot in more coins claiming he wanted Ollie to have something to remind the young boy of the two. 

Jaehyun truly wanted to say that he hoped Ollie wouldn’t forget that the two loved him. He hoped a flimsy piece of paper was enough of comfort to Ollie as they will be to him.

Pulling out a pocketbook rushedly, Jaehyun manages to scribble his support and appreciation for the young boy. That’s an image of himself alone, handing it to you to scribble something quick before the flash goes off again. The last two flashes are paraded with you two making faces you often made towards him – sticking your tongue out or scrunching your nose, the latter his favorite one.

“Good luck in your journey, you’ve done so well these past months!” “Ollie! Remember to eat all your meals and no buddy-budding with any louse. You’re a good boy!” “Fighting our lovely, Ollie!” Compliments of Jaehyun.  “We love you, Ollie. More than you think.” Now that comes from the bottom of both of your hearts.

Jaehyun bought a jacket for Ollie once back in the village while grocery shopping at the market for the voyage dinner. For the first time since he arrived you had trusted him to navigate the village on his own. The everyday route was engraved onto his brain, finding you shortly with the jacket in a wrapped box. You wanted to see it but he told you you’d have to wait until Ollie opens it, he didn’t want to re-wrap this himself.

Your grandparents and Ollie didn’t arrive until a few hours later when everything was set up already. Jaehyun arranged the table outside with a fine china that belonged to you, not the one in the cabinet. He had attempted to help you in the kitchen but backed off when he saw your eye twitch the second he mixed a pot on the stove. There he learnt that getting in your way while cooking wasn’t a good idea so he instead went to feed the pen animals and loiter around to write the letter he’d give the young boy with his gifts.

Ollie could have sworn this was a delayed birthday party. Jaehyun had arrived a week after Ollie turned nineteen, missing any form of celebration. Now he was complete, this had to be a form of celebration and not a voyage dinner, it just had to. Otherwise why would he be crying at the dinner table? 

Ollie would like to think his tears represented the impending doom you were all to face one way or another with his absence. Both figuratively and and literally; comically and realistically. 

The hands on his back and shoulders try their best to comfort him, whispers of how this was yet another trip meant to minimize the meaning of this but Ollie knew something was wrong, something none of you did just yet. He smiled widely, tears streaming down his face, laughing in order to control himself but your gentle wiping and hugs made him fall deeper into that feeling. His childish intuition as you all call it.

Jaehyun on the other hand decides to pull out his gifts in hopes it would help but it only made Ollie cry harder. The younger spews his thank you’s, hugging Jaehyun for comfort to which the older one takes, his own heart filling with such an aching pulsation. He ignores it, it doesn’t matter what he’s feeling, he wants Ollie to take a good look and remember him in a bright light.

Ollie wore the jacket all night and took it on his trip – along the letter–, never letting anyone touch it. He left the truck with you and your grandparents, he knew it’d be far more safe with you than with his brothers. 

The dinner didn’t spoil after his crying fit. Your grandmother had playfully scolded him to get a grip while your grandfather helped him with a shot of liquor. It progressed onto serving them all dinner, Jaehyun helping you throughout all steps while your grandpa complained about the long lines for their pension and all the old people as if he wasn’t one of them. Your grandmother only backed him up a few times, rebutting his claims in others just for the sake of arguing which caused laughs to leave everyone. 

It wasn’t anything new, Jaehyun had grown accustomed to their conversations. They may argue right now but other times the tone of their voices sounded harsh when all they were doing was conversing, as peaceful as they knew how. He wonders if this will ever be you two although he’s not sure he could raise his voice at you or vice versa.

Night had fallen faster than any of you would have wanted. Usually Ollie would leave whenever he pleased and no one would bat an eye but in the past hour his father had called nearly ten times and it was bothering your grandparents. You and Jaehyun too but not as much as the elders since they were the ones inside. Your grandmother had been yelling from her bed to tell Ollie his dick of a father was on the line again, in fact by the fifth call no one answered, they just knew. 

So when the tenth call had rung, Ollie who had been helping you put away the left overs answered angrily telling his father to fuck off and that he’d be on the way soon, received with some scolding from him that he didn’t finish spewing from how fast Ollie hung up. It didn’t mean your scolding wasn’t on the way with how piercing your glare was.

Like a kicked sad puppy, Ollie goes to you in hopes his affection would soften the blow. “That’s not how I’ve raised you, Oliver! Your dad may be a deadbeat but you still shouldn’t talk to him like that – at least in our presence!” Your fingers nip his earlobe, a yelp leaving his bitten lips and a grunt to follow. 

“You know my grandparents don’t like when you talk back so don’t do it again when they’re around, okay?” You say, a hand on your hip like a mother scolding her child. That’s essentially how you saw him and how he saw you. 

“So I can talk back in front of you?” A cheeky smile received with a soft pinch to his ear. “No!” Your smile betrayed your words. He giggles at the reaction he got out of you, twisting out of your grasp to take you into a hug. 

“I really wish you would just enjoy the present and the time you have with Jaehyun without dwelling on how long or how little he has left here. Enjoy the love he’s giving you and return yours, he needs it too, Y/n. For what is left...” 

He sighs, holding you in a firmer grasp. Words don’t quite describe what you want to answer with but you knew he was right despite your initial hostility. 

You kiss his cheek, nodding as a response. He mimics your actions before waving and heading over to your grandparents to bid his goodbyes before leaving through the middle room. 

Jaehyun doesn’t know why he disappeared after dessert. Perhaps he didn’t want to face Ollie when he left and had to say goodbye, he wasn’t good with those. So here he was, on the roof next to the water tank, filling it up as an excuse to why he was so detached from everyone else. It didn’t matter though, Ollie had found him immediately that when Jaehyun heard the clanking of boots he gifted the boy against the rusted ladder, he felt dread.

He pretended to be people watching, seeing how a guy on the right side cleaned his car (it is  meant to rain tomorrow or overnight). In the front, a woman bathes her dogs within the vicinity of her patio, the dog shaking and getting the water all over her. On the dirt filled path, children rode their bicycles, going around any ditches and potholes that would make them fall.

Ollie joins him, standing besides, focusing far more on how the sun was setting. He allows Jaehyun to speak first but frowns when he doesn’t; the faint sound of the phone ringing again makes him shut his eyes.

“Thank you for the gifts, you’ve done far more for me than my own dad.” He bitterly chuckles. Jaehyun turns to him, a small grin on his face that falls when the younger one speaks again.

“You’re avoiding me.” “No.” 

His voice wavers, eyes trying to show Ollie he wasn’t. Ollie chuckles again, shaking his head. 

“I get it, don’t worry. I don’t want to say bye either.”  “I don’t want to say bye.”

Ollie nods, looking at the sights Jaehyun had looked upon. The car was clean despite the sprinkling, a child had missed a bump and fell, and the dog was laying back on dirt.

“Jaehyun, it does mean a lot to me what you’ve done these months. You kind of suck with labor and all but you’ve been of great help.” He laughs, hoping his teasing jab will ease the tension. Jaehyun rolls his eyes, hitting the back of his head softly with a silent laugh. “I’m serious though, you’ve been of great help to Y/n, it’s not easy dealing with the house work and being a caretaker. I think you’ve helped liven her up more. I’m glad you’re able to think about your present with her. I hope it doesn’t change, you make her happy and we like seeing her this way.” Ollie sighs looking at his watch, the sun has set. 

“I hope you’re still here by the time I come back home–” He laughs, cutting himself off. “It’s not even my home.” 

“I’ve never felt more at home than here, I understand.”

Ollie smiles at his claims, he nods with a final sigh. Before going down he gives Jaehyun a final hug and a tight squeeze. The older man mimics his actions to demonstrate his own affection.

Midway down the ladder, Ollie stops and Jaehyun tilts his head. “By the way, this came after you left earlier today.” He pulls out a wrinkled envelope from his back pocket. Immediately recognizing the ivory color and red wax seal, all Jaehyun knows is that he won’t read it any time soon.

“Bye, Jaehyun.” “Bye, Ollie.”

–

Things didn’t go back to normal after Ollie’s departure, no matter how hard everyone pretended that this hadn’t created a rupture into the atmosphere – a breach to the eco. It goes to say that Ollie helped things feel easy and fun, he was the joy you all needed and now he was gone. Things felt mundane again and to Jaehyun this wasn’t a foreign feeling but one he did not want to have here.

A week and a half without him already feels like an eternity. You and Jaehyun wonder if this is what parents feel when their children finally part ways. 

On the brightside, his conversation with you helped you ease into what you felt for Jaehyun. Yes, you still sneaked kisses and affectionate touches here and there out of respect for your grandparents but it was so obvious what you two had that the elders didn’t tease you anymore for the glances and blush.

Mail day has arrived and Jaehyun once again has received a letter, one he thinks about throwing onto the pile of drafts he’s written and discarded. The letter Ollie handed him before he left tucked in between those. 

He thanks the mailman, putting down the rake he used to pick up fallen leaves. Your grandfather had taught him to put them in a pile to later be burned. He contemplates throwing the letter in, watching the red wax seal spread as it melts. He can't, though, the bold red letters screaming “URGENT!” make themselves present to him. 

Jaehyun sighs, shaking his head wondering what it was now as he opens the envelope. Simple greetings, some scolding and questioning, and a plane ticket. What? That was enough for Jaehyun to ignore his nonchalant attitude and let panic take over him. He took the effort to read over the letter closely without missing a detail. 

Why the hell would he have a plane ticket?!

‘Dear Jaehyun,

No, scratch that. What the hell is wrong with you? We haven’t heard back from you since that call and you’re not answering the one letter we sent you. We figure and understand you’re having a great time but it does not mean you’re meant to forget your responsibilities back home. Remember how you’re supposed to send drafts? Right, you haven’t done that and given the changes made while you’ve been gone it’s best you get to it!

We miss you so don’t regard this letter as totally reproachful. Please be sure to be here and don’t miss your plane. We’ll make sure to send a fax before you make it to the airport. Till then, enjoy your time and give us a call as soon as you can.

Sincerely, Jude.’

Well this has severed his plans and mood. Was it not enough to have one departure?

30 AUG 87, 17:30 time of departure, one way only. Red bold letters mirroring the ones that caught his attention to read the components of the letter. If he had known it was for this, he would’ve thrown it in the pile of leaves and act clueless if he was to ever receive an emergency call.

His aggravation was noticeable to you the second he stepped inside the vicinity of the patio. His face sunken, something it wasn’t before leaving to clean outside. Not to mention it seemed like he was biting the inside of his cheeks, holding in his breath as a form of repression. You watch carefully, pretending to not have noticed him while cutting sugar canes near his room.  

He sees you and he wants to ask something or at least find a way to begin this conversation. He should tell you, no? He should, he knows it but he’s scared and also a coward who waits for you to throw the first stone.

“Something happened?” Jaehyun stops by the step before the kitchen, facing you with a slight shake of head. “Um… does the phone run overseas calls?” It’s your turn to shake your head, firmly unlike him. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He bolts out towards Gabby’s with the ticket inside his pocket, crumbled and wrinkled like the letter Ollie handed him. The older woman seemed to have understood the reason for his visit. The second she saw the familiar face, she pulled that phone she loved so much to the counter along with the catalog and timer, dialing the code before handing it to him. Jaehyun was thankful she didn’t drag it out, he needed answers immediately.

One ring, two rings, “Hello?” Good, rapid enough.

Jaehyun grips the phone, a tight hold that makes his subconscious scared that he’ll pop this heirloom. “I don’t want to go back!” Well, that’s a way to start a conversation. 

Hyunjoo laughs, calling Jude over to let him know their golden boy finally contacted them after four months. Jude wasn’t as kind as Hyunjoo, he took the fatherly role seriously and began berating the younger of the three on why he had gone rogue. 

“What if something had happened to you? Do you not care for what we feel, Jaehyun. If it wasn’t for this idiot I would’ve sent you letters and even gone to pick you up, so don’t ever pull this on us again! On me, again!” One can only imagine how red he was, up to his receding hairline. 

Jaehyun would’ve laughed in the past but now the life he’s built here is soon to crumble and he doesn’t like it. “It doesn’t mean you guys can just force me back! I’ve built something here, I have something going on! I love it here and I don’t want to leave!” He whines, obvious hurt in his wavering voice.

“Yeah, well, whatever you have going on should be finished soon. You know, you only went there for inspiration and to blow some steam off, Yuno. Nothing else, my boy.” If Hyunjoo was there he would pat his cheek reassuringly, unaware of how much Jaehyun hated his little acts of condescension and belittling. 

Jaehyun didn’t want to finish what he had here, he wanted to stay forever. He wanted to stay with you, your grandparents, and Ollie. He wanted to be here by the time Ollie came back to greet him with a big hug, a meal, and a trip to the hot spring he wasn’t able to enjoy before leaving. He wanted to build a life with you. Court you properly, date you, travel with you. Even marry you, he doesn’t care how early this is or how late, he wants you and everyone he’s learnt to love these months in his life. Of course his career had to get in between him and his happiness like always.

Jude sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose.  “Listen, Jaehyun… There’s nothing we can do, have you read the letter we sent you a few weeks back? That explains it all. Believe me when I say that if it was for me, you could stay there for as long as you want and go back whenever the book is published–”

“That’s the plan.” He interrupts, teeth gritting. Jude and Hyunjoo give each other a look, one that would make Jaehyun feel far more defensive if he could see it. “Jaehyun… things have changed within the publishing house. Go read the letter and we’ll see you Monday, yeah?”

Jude waited for an answer that Jaehyun never gave him. He hung up quite forcibly, receiving a glare from the store owner who muttered the amount. He didn’t stay for his change nor cared for her screams telling him to take it. Jaehyun was in an irritable mood that no one could take away from him today.

Things were definitely not fine. That’s as much as you and your grandpa could decree when Jaehyun crossed the patio straight into his room, closing the door behind him without uttering a word. The elder and you removed kernels in front of his window, under the tree for shade. You could hear him mumble incoherently, his eyebrows furrowing the further he read. 

“What bug bit him?” Your grandpa whispers, cocking his head to the open window. You shrug, throwing away the cob into a bucket, fuel for the chimney. “Go ask then.” So persistent and straight to business. “What? No! I’ll wait until he tells me, pa…” But you did want to ask him what was wrong, more than anything. It’s just that your cowardice won’t allow you. The older man rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disappointment while feeding the chickens with fallen kernels. 

Time and him can only tell what he’s feeling.

‘Dear Jaehyun,

For starters, we miss you dearly. At least I do but find it in your heart to believe Hyunjoo does so as well. We’ve respected your wishes on not contacting you, even through letters but it’s been over three months and you have yet to let us know how you are doing. Do you not care for mine and your family’s well being? I care for yours, I’ve been restless all these months wondering how you are doing. It’s far too irresponsible to not even contact your own family, Jaehyun.

Is the book in the works? How are the drafts? You know we needed drafts mailed throughout your stay, young man. How is the host treating you? I figure well enough if you haven’t contacted us yet. If not then I’ll see myself forced to call the national guard if I don’t hear from you soon!

Regardless, some updates on how things are going on our end. We’ve been able to fake some notices here and there to the publishing house about yours and the drafts whereabouts. If you must know, if you haven’t figured it out already – which is possible, being in such an isolated village… – Mark is in the process of publishing his next book. His last ones have been a great success and been able to knock some of yours from bestsellers therefore things are becoming harsh around here.

The publishing house wants you back immediately and wants your book ready. Hyunjoo has managed to give you more time before it’s edited and the final print is chosen but the new investors are pushing the house and they are desperate for a contender against Mark’s book. So please, cut your time short and don’t miss your plane! I’ll make sure to send the ticket soon when I’m able to obtain it.

Best regards,  Jude.’

Jaehyun doesn’t know what to think. He now understands multiple jobs are on the line but so is his happiness. Even so if he goes and turns in whatever he has – which isn’t enough for even a first draft – what guarantees all of them that it will be published by the time Mark’s is? They can’t just publish some nonsensical thoughts he’s scribbled down for the sake of beating another child protege author. 

Mark’s work is far different from Jaehyun’s, he’s youthful in the way he writes, his metaphors are far more enthusiastic and fun. He’s great within young audiences and those seeking to remove themselves from melancholia. He’s everything Jaehyun isn’t and in both their brains, they know they can’t compete for something neither are reaching for.

Matter of fact, that’s not his concern right now. His concern is on how to break the news to you and your family. He’s supposed to leave by the end of this week, what are you going to do in such a short notice? What is he going to do in such short notice? Things were finally starting to align, why must bad things always happen to him– you– both.

One thing is for sure, he has to tell you immediately. But first he’s going to go back to Gabby’s and buy whichever pack of beers and some chips, maybe even some bread in case you feel your blood pressure rise (he’ll eat it, most likely). Arriving there and getting the items, he’s grateful the older woman honored the change he had left, even gifted him a chocolate as she sensed that something was off. Jaehyun thanks her and contemplates on saying goodbye but it’s too soon. Instead he nods and waves on his way back.  

He doesn’t have the courage to go past the threshold, opting to sit on the uncomfortable and textured concrete bench by the door of your’s and your grandmother’s bedroom. He hears the loud melodrama of her soap operas and the sewing machine she doesn’t leave alone. Another dress for you, he figures she’s making.

There’s the faint sound of music coming from your grandfather’s car, the one he and Ollie worked on often and that Jaehyun began helping with due to his absence. It pains Jaehyun to know that the elder will once again lose the aid he claims to not want but appreciates wholeheartedly. 

His sigh elicits company, or perhaps the pop from the beer bottle had attracted it so here you were, standing by the metal threshold that separated you and him from inside to outside. Your head tilts, looking at him as if trying to read the grievances on his face. 

“Misery likes company.” 

Your voice makes his head snap, eyes glistening while drowning in the sweetness of your company. He smiles shortly, patting the empty spot to his right, the sun is setting fastly. 

He takes your hand into his, kissing the palm and fingers before pulling you in for an embrace. All of this was scaring you the more and more he remained quiet and it only seems like your brain was already processing the inevitable.

“Got a letter from my manager…” “So?”

“My “rival” is putting out a book soon according to them and they want me to send in a draft already for the final print.” His fingers curl at the quotation marks, rolling his eyes at how stupid it all felt. “Ah… well, do you have anything to send then?” He shakes his head, apologies on your face. “We can stay this entire week so you can work on it, how does that sound? Pa doesn’t have to check on the crops any time soon and there isn’t really anywhere else we could go, not anywhere near.” 

There’s so much pep in your voice that it hurts to think about how short the remaining days will feel. He has to tell you and he has to tell you now.

“I leave this Sunday, Y/n.” “Oh.”

Jaehyun didn’t mean to say it like this but how else was he meant to? He didn’t want to drag it out longer nor agitate you but he also didn’t want to hurt you and that’s all he can read on your face. Hurt.

Misery does love company.

Your body slumps against the adobe wall, harsh against your backbones. The hand he holds falls limp against his touch and all Jaehyun can do as comfort is kissing it before placing the open bottle in your hand, opening another for himself. 

He hadn’t had the time to burn the pile of leaves and the sun was far more foreign by now. That shade of blue coloring his face, an obvious demonstration of his feelings from the past hour. Yet it’s you who takes the initiative to take out the box of matches from the apron you wear, forgetting that you were cooking dinner just to check up on him.

The flame catches fast, rising as you whisper your grievances into it, taking a sip of your drink. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, he tries to take a hold of your hand but he hesitates, fearful that you won’t want it. Instead he throws both letters onto the fire, helping its consumption and anger. At least now you both have let something go.

The morning after, both elders made sure to not ask any favors out of him and let him to his own vices. They understood he’s meant to get his work done so they didn’t want to add stress onto him. But this continued onto the third and fourth day of the week and Jaehyun was aching more and more as his time fell short. He felt just as inutile as his first week, if not more than that week. He also felt his heart ache only having meals to spend with you all but even then he began feeling like the foreigner he was.

Conversations with him were as cordial as before but not as cheery. They asked about his book and what he had ready. They asked if his suitcase was prepared and if he was happy to go back home. Your grandpa did his best to joke around but would soon drop it when he felt his voice tremble. He’s always worn his heart in his sleeve and another one he saw as a son will now leave him again.

Your grandmother on the other hand was the most level headed. She made sure Jaehyun was kept on track with his work and even helped clean his room when he begged her not to tire herself. She’s faced much loss and pain, a stranger leaving wasn’t going to knock her down. If anything, she feels for how you will act once he’s gone.

By dinner time you and your grandfather had bolted out of the kitchen, feeding the animals any leftovers and giving them their own meal. That left him and your grandmother in the kitchen. She was in the process of taking some water from the bucket in the chimney, he did it instead. Pouring it into another container where your grandmother would then add cold water for balance.

She thanked him and told him he should go back to work but Jaehyun didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be alone, he’s been so for the past three days and it’s corroding his soul. He wants to take away the happy memories, he wants his final days to be fun. He’s begging for you all to not do this to him. He needs contact and affection, he needs it.

“So… you have everything ready?” She tries to converse, passing the soapy sponge over the dirty plates. He nods, rinsing it. “Not excited, I’m guessing.” Jaehyun’s pout is enough of an answer. “Look at it on the brightside. You’ll be able to get it over with and the doors here are always open for you.”

He should know she means it, the problem is that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. How long will it take for the book to be published? How long will promotions last? What if he’s forced to work on something else straight after? Jesus Christ, he’s not even back yet and he’s already stressing about his reality.

“Yeah?”  “Yes.”

Jaehyun smiles at her. 

“Will you take care of Y/n for me?” He asks again, putting away the dishes he’s rinsed. She laughs nodding, “She’s taking care of us, I think she’ll manage well.” Jaehyun laughs as well, feeling foolish. “I don’t think you should worry too much about her, Jaehyun. She’s strong and can handle this. As long as you two keep in contact, I believe it will be fine.” She pats his back, leaving a wet hand print that warms his muscles. 

He contemplates on taking the advice. Your grandmother has said everything he already knows about you but perhaps he’s projecting his own feelings. He’ll need another source for advice and there’s no one better than your grandfather.

Jaehyun excuses himself, rinsing and drying the few dishes left before walking out to help your grandfather on the car. The older man sat pensive while looking around the vehicle, loud music coming out of it to drown any thoughts. 

Hopping on the co-pilot seat, Jaehyun smiles at him, dusting away some stray picked up dust. “It’s looking better now.” He compliments, your grandpa nods, humming with a following hearty laugh. “You’re much better at this than me.” The older one shakes his head, continuing his laughter. “These things take time, you just need to practice more. When you come back I’ll help you with it.” Your grandpa is far more hopeful than the rest of you, that reassures him enough.

“You’ll let me in again?” 

“Yes. You make my kids happy and you’ve been of great help even when you didn’t have to.” His laughter subsided, turning into a smile he was struggling to maintain. “It’s a shame you’re leaving so soon.” He hiccups, waterworks on the way. “We’ll miss you, kid. Especially Y/n…” The mention of your name was enough for him to begin his silent sobs, tears beginning to spill. 

If there is one thing he can count on is your grandfather expressing what you and your grandmother aren’t able to. Jaehyun sniffles himself, comforting with some rubs to the older’s shoulder before hugging him. Now he knows how appreciated and loved he is and for that he is thankful.

Your grandpa attempts to stop crying, laughing in between to seem like everything was fine. That was always his way of trying to control himself. “You’ll come back, right?” Jaehyun nods, smiling at him while wiping away a stray tear. “As soon as possible. I want a life here.” Your grandfather smiles at him, looking straight to where his headlights shine.

“I’m not from here either. I was born and raised in a city an hour or two from here– you’ve been there, that’s where the airport is.” Jaehyun recalls his first day, the bustling and loud city with historical architecture. It was beautiful, surely, but it doesn’t compare to this village and its own beauty.

“I’ve worked my entire life since I can remember, seven to be specific. By eighteen I found myself here, I was young and my only experience came from the mines and cleaning cars but agriculture is a booming business here so somehow I found my way to a ranch that was hiring to work on machinery. I didn’t know how to work a car let alone a tractor but I was hungry and needed money to send back home. My dad died when I was only three and my mom was left alone with five kids. I had to help her. I lied my way through with the owner and I was young so he took me in.” 

Everyone starts somewhere and soon falls in love with the place.

“I stayed at a shack they had built by plots, their own home wasn’t too far so I often went by to ask for a glass of water. That’s when I met Y/n’s grandmother. She’s always been this cold and serious. I would chug the water down and then beg her for more. She would roll her eyes and complain but would always come back with it filled to the brim, ice cold.” He laughs, tears finally gone. 

“From then on I kept trying to talk with her even if she pretended to hate it. I’d ask her sisters and sometimes her brothers but it was tricky, I didn’t want them to beat my ass up for thinking about their sister! So, I would have enough with whatever conversations we would have when she brought the workers drinks and food or at dances. One time her own father told me to ask her to dance and since then I never left her alone. With his blessing, then none of her family would interfere and sooner than later I asked her to marry me so here we are, sixty years later and twelve kids.”

“Is this you giving me your blessing to be with Y/n?” Jaehyun half jokes but there’s so much sincerity in his voice that he can’t deny being hopeful. The older man nods and laughs, clasping his back. “As if you needed it… I often went back to my own family but still came back because I love this place and everything it has offered me. Similar to you… I hope your love for Y/n is as strong as mine was years ago. I would hate to see a different fate for you two.”  

Jaehyun didn’t know how to respond to that, he truly wished to be back as soon as possible and he would fight tooth and nail to make it possible. Yes, it’s different from him and your grandfather due to the distance but he will make it work because he loves you, he loves you so much that he can’t seem to express it properly. 

“Thank you…” “It’s just advice.”

The older man leaves him to his vices and thoughts. With another laugh and a nod bidding him goodnight, he turns the car off, leaving Jaehyun in the dark.

Jaehyun thinks about both conversations all night. He feels a sense of relief knowing he’s had a heart to heart with two of the most important people in your life. It’s good to know they approve of him and the love he has for you. He hopes you’re as understanding and hopeful as your grandparents.

Saturday came as a surprise to him. The roosters weren’t the ones to wake him up, it was your grandpa who excitedly told him to gather all his things. Jaehyun tried to question what was going on but the elder gave him no time. His hearty laugh was enough of an answer, taking the few suitcases he saw in the corner while pushing Jaehyun into the restroom to get ready. He’s not sure what’s going on but he won’t protest, it’s the first time this week that he feels included.

Within half an hour everyone was ready, Jaehyun noticed you too were surprised by the sudden change of plans. You weren’t your usual put-together self and kept yawning resulting in you sleeping throughout the entire car ride. He took this moment to take pictures of the road. Previously he had compared it to his time in West America, he now doesn’t think it’s too comparable. The vegetation is bright and green, most of it coming from incoming crops and lively trees.

Within an hour your grandfather stopped at a town, it was time for breakfast. Both raved about the food despite how spicy it was while you and your grandmother made fun of them. Jaehyun took this chance to take more pictures, candid ones of you and your family with the prettiest decoration in the background. Every memory counts.

Afterwards, you all take a moment to explore the quaint town for a bit, simply so Jaehyun can get some souvenirs. It reminded him of two past towns he’s visited during his time here. One where he had to fight for a seat to be able to eat. Meal which ended up being one of the most disgusting things he’s ever had. He won’t ever tell the rest of you that but you share his sentiment. The second one being where your grandpa struggled to find parking and almost left. He likes that one better.

It’s not to say this town isn’t beautiful, it is. It’s historical, colorful, and calm. Very calm and quiet, something that reminds him of the best village which is where he resided for the past few months. How he loves it there and he’ll hold it to his heart.

Getting his pictures and souvenirs, it was set to take another two hours on the road, only stopping when having to use the restroom which unfortunately due to age is something your grandparents needed often. In those moments Jaehyun would reminisce on the day you two took those photos and bought Ollie’s truck, the one he saw daily perched next to the fine china in the cabinet with a passport picture of him. 

“Well here we are, the city I was born in.” Your grandfather’s voice made sure to take away the last bits of drowsiness from you. Your last visit was at fifteen and from the looks of it, nothing had changed. It’s amazing for Jaehyun to tell how different life was between the countryside and the city. The moment you all came to see the skyscrapers and bridges, it felt like a totally different part of the world. It was louder, much more polluted and littered, but for sure not horrendous. Your grandfather made sure to tell him the story of this city like he had done for every village and town visited. 

For the majority of the day you all spent it looking around. At the entrance, your grandparents pushed you to ride on the cableway that dropped you off directly downtown. You tried to make them get in it with you both but they excused themselves with being too old and preferring to meet you there with the car. You all knew it was so you and Jaehyun could spend a couple of minutes alone.

“It’s pretty.” “Not as pretty as home.” 

Jaehyun smiles at you, taking your hand into his. You return the gesture, squeezing his warm hand in yours. 

“Is your city pretty? I’ve heard it is.” 

“I’m not talking about where I’ll go back, Y/n. I’m talking about back home. With you, your grandparents, and Ollie.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. Within you and the colorful buildings beneath, Jaehyun is sure to say the view during his time has always been beautiful.

“Do you truly want a life with me?” You shift, close yet with a distance. It was a simple answer, there’s no reason to lie. His smile, dimples, eyes, and even his reddened ears told you he did. Words are preferable though. “Yes.” leaves his rosy lips, kissing you to imprint the confirmation.

Only time will tell how true to his word he is.

You met your grandparents shortly, both bickering about where to reside when night befalls. The topic fell to deaf ears, prefering to explore more about the city. Murals that he wouldn’t forget, traffic as bad as where he resides with the exception that entertainment began the second redlights turn on. Street food that smells delicious and calls his name within every second. 

It’s similar yet so distinct from what he has learned to love. It’s clear to him that no matter how familiar you are to one thing, there will always be more to learn about it. 

It was near dinner time and within an hour or two from sundown. That forced your grandparents to argue again about the same thing from earlier. This time you two got to learn that your grandfather wanted to rest in his childhood home with his family while your grandmother wanted to avoid that at all costs. She’ll tolerate a visit but won’t give them the benefit of being their host, that’s her role. Not to mention she won’t forget all their wrongdoings towards her and her husband no matter how much the latter attempts to have a happy family.

Words thrown here and there, you all decree to eat out. Both you and your grandmother brought up the time his sister cooked unhygienically that he ended up having a stomach bug for the following three days. He laughs at this and leads you all to your favorite spot, somewhere Jaehyun yearns to taste again for years to come.

You all do end up visiting his family before the sun falls, a quick in and out situation. Jaehyun didn’t pay too much attention to the conversations, he was more entranced with the portraits on the walls and the cracks of chipped paint that told the story of this home.

“Why do you keep looking at the cracks?”

Your voice forces Jaehyun to turn to you, extending his hand to feel your warmth. “Do you think they’re due to poor care or the house growing old with its inhabitants? Your grandpa said he doesn’t recall the ones from this wall.” Your head tilts, looking at them as if you two were in a museum. Perhaps you should take him there tomorrow before his departure. 

“Will you write that in your book?” He laughs, taking you into an embrace. “Okay smarty pants how do you word it normally, then?” You return the gesture. “I wouldn’t even think about it for starters, there’s so many back home. Why would I care about this one?” 

“I’ve seen how much care you all give the home, there’s barely any cracks. The question is answered for that house.”

“Then… I guess you can find an answer for this one. We’ve been here for an hour or so and there’s plenty more people living here who haven’t greeted them at least.” 

You both turn to your grandparents. Grandma sitting silently and aggravated in the corner with a cup of water that she hasn’t touched. Your grandfather enjoys his talk with his sisters despite their spouses talking over and for them. His nephews and nieces, nowhere seen but heard through these same cracks Jaehyun wonders so much about. 

Yes, he has his answer. A house without love crumbles faster.

The sun had fallen sooner than expected and with that your grandmother finally found an excuse to leave. The other elders offered to let you all stay with no avail when even your grandfather told them it wasn’t necessary. He knew of a nearby hotel, clean, and hospitable that you could all stay at and his wishes were final. 

Immediately as the doors were closed behind your backs, the ruckus of the other four families living there could be heard. It’s clear as day where their intentions laid and why not a single picture of you or your family was on their walls.

When questioning why he denied their offer knowing other times he’d agree immediately, he only muttered a simple: “They didn’t even greet you or Jaehyun. What kind of hosts will they be?” Jaehyun felt a part of the family.

Room distribution went as follows. Your grandfather and Jaehyun would share a room, each with their own bed. Same thing applied to you and your grandmother, a concept you knew too well. This was the first and final night in which you two wouldn’t share a kiss through the bathroom window. You miss it like you’ll miss him.

The following morning isn’t as kind to either of you. The previous day none of you were able to process the severity that it was his final day with all of you. Enamored with what the city offered and the warmth of feeling loved by everyone within the circle, no one felt the harsh reality that is now overcoming you all. There’s ten hours left of his stay.  

Silence is the first thing that you all notice, no matter how hard you all try to erase it. Being aware that time is ticking weighs down on your shoulders. Walking through these streets feels slightly surreal. Like a Dali painting, walking through a sea of melting clocks. A torment is what he’d call it.

He manages to get a few more souvenirs, he’s not sure for who or if he’s trying his best to collect every single piece as a memory, he’ll lean towards the latter. Besides, he snags some final gifts for you, your family, and even Ollie, it’s the least he can do besides memories. He’ll be taking those and who knows when he’ll be able to show them to you all.

Within the fifth hour your grandparents rendered themselves tired and tried forcing you two to go on your own. Jaehyun didn’t want that, as much as he loves time with you, he also loves spending time with them. The two have taught him many things, brought many laughs and anecdotes he cherishes dearly.

To be maintained happy, he invites you all to a final dinner. It’s much earlier than usual but he would miss his flight if you’d have to wait till usual hours. Your grandparents attempt to protest, claiming they’re bad hosts if they let him pay but they’re fighting a losing battle and Jaehyun will make sure he can grant them everything before he goes back to reality.

It’s by far enjoyable and it helps him reminisce on all previous meals within those cold adobe walls he loved since day one. It’s dim in the restaurant, recalling the time it rained so hard the streets became rivers and light went out for the remainder of the day. You all ate under candle light while your grandparents told scary stories of the village.

Dinner was the only condition for you to leave your grandparents to rest. With all the heaviness in his heart, Jaehyun fulfilled their wishes. And while you thought it was best to leave them at the hotel, the two continued their stubborn streak and ended up sitting at a park to people-watch. Naturally, they needed live entertainment.

Three and a half hours left, so little time and so much left to do. 

You essentially were a tourist just as him, both experiencing new attractions that you only saw in passing the one time you came by. It led to both jumping from museum to museum. National and independent, art and history, for food and tools. It didn’t matter but it filled the empty space and the forced silence helped neither of you spill what flooded your minds.

“I liked the tools museum better.” You retort, almost skipping down the steps to avoid the sun rays. It was much hotter than it ever had been back in town. “Really? I thought the history museum was really nice.” He covers his eyes, rushing to your side. “Nothing Pa hasn’t told you.” He nods, shrugging with a little shimmy to his shoulders.

He looks at his watch and sighs, there isn’t much time left. “Where to next?” His words form a pit in your stomach, forcing yourself to look at the numbers on it. You ignore it, dawning on you that you’ve never spoken in-depth about his job. What’s your thought process when coming up with your books?” 

He hums, “For my first books, they were all inspired by cases I heard back home. Where I was born. They’re bleak but there’s still a sense of hope. On top of it I read a lot of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy growing up so I felt like a cynic comparing both their work, trying my best to create a middle ground that would represent me.” He cocks his head, it’s a bitter taste to him these days. 

“Those two lead to my last two. I’m not fond of them, I won’t lie. They’re rushed and robotic, it’s noticeable in the tone but the publishing house wanted something fast and since they sold well, they didn’t care about how I felt, that’s why I’m here now. They wanted this book to be rushed and as miserable as those but I can’t handle writing anything of the sorts anymore. I would’ve ended up like Plath, Hemingway or Dazai if I wrote about how miserable life is once again.”

Jaehyun couldn’t understand if the look on your face was pity or empathy, he didn’t want to see it. “Don’t worry about this one. I’ve found meaning and great inspiration. I’ll dedicate it to you.”

You laugh against his lips, pulling away to kiss his cheek. “How will I know when it’ll come out?” He shrugs, kissing your hand. “I don’t either but I’ll make sure to deliver the copy straight to you.”

“What makes you think I’ll still be here by the time it’s published?” 

Jaehyun was under the impression that you’d be here too. Your grandmother had reassured him they would always have their doors and arms open for him but he never thought that meant without you.

“I’ll find my way to you even if I have to go to the end of the world so I can read the token of my adoration for you.”

‘Of my love’ is what he wants to say, hanging on his tongue yet too scared to dive out. You seem to read his mind, kissing him instead to swallow what neither of you can say just yet.

 There was still some time left but nothing else worth seeing. Perhaps it was best to gather all your belongings from the hotel, you had the keys to the car and it shouldn’t take you too long. By this point it would be best to waste time at the airport, as dreaded as it is.

Upon arrival time made itself present. The father clock in the lobby allows its ticking to echo through the tiles that you love. The ones in each room weren’t any better. Screaming far louder than the rest that when Jaehyun finished packing his and your grandfather’s bag to make way towards your room, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. Dreadful and painful as the feeling in his heart.

He watched you look through the night stands, making sure your grandmother’s medication wasn’t left behind. He had done the same for your grandfather, his medicine case tucked inside his bag. There’s a forlorn look in his eyes, you don’t miss it when turning to smile at him, comfortingly. You want to ask about it but fear it will consume you as well if you dwell on it.

“Ready?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, joining you on the bed and taking you in a tight embrace. In every sense he wasn’t ready to part ways. You try to laugh it off, kissing his cheek and tightening your grip. Your hands caressing his back to bring some type of comfort but it does the opposite.

Jaehyun can now understand why your grandfather breaks down so easily. The weight of one’s emotions are soon to leave when you allow yourself to be free. That may also explain why he’s always so joyful, he’s free of all his grievances but for Jaehyun it will follow him for eternity if things are not fixed as soon as possible.

“This isn’t the last time, Jaehyun… Please don’t cry.” You cradle his face, wiping away his tears that shine like diamonds under the sun rays peeking in through the window. He hiccups, sniffling to control his sobs. “It doesn’t change how difficult it is to say goodbye.” He pouts, lips so rosy and puffed. You kiss them tenderly for comfort and warmth, it’s the least you could do. Words aren’t your forte and you don’t want him to see how gutted you truly are despite trying to hold a front all this time.

Jaehyun returns the actions of affection, holding you for dear life while kissing you like no tomorrow. Muffled words leave him, incoherent to you yet you swallow them. Like the blood of Christ, you don’t let a blood drop if it means your salvation.

“I-I” He attempts to sound what he wants to say, you don’t allow him. Shaking your head fervently, slipping your tongue in the cavity of his mouth to mute him further. You know what he wants to say but if he does, it will make things far more difficult than they already are.

Jaehyun submits to your cowardice and lets the ticking of the clocks guide him. His hands hold your body near him, pulling you onto his lap to feel you closer. He wants more and so do you, God knows when you’ll meet again. 

Fingers threading through his hair, sliding down to his neck, kneading the warm skin you love so much. The actions lead to silent mewls to leave his lips for you to take. You’re so appreciative of the gift that you deepen the kiss, letting his hands roam under your blouse to feel you closer and closer. It’s your turn to gift him a sweet sound that he wishes he could trap into a music box for him to wind and listen to it on repeat daily.

Jaehyun decrees that your blouse is in the way. Too thick and cold, nothing like your skin as he feels now. His large hands take a firm grip of the textile, pulling it off. You’re exposed and he can read what your heart has hidden all this time. Jaehyun prefers to kiss it away, his pillowy lips delicately falling against your chest. Kissing it tenderly to create more of those pretty sounds that hypnotize him. 

You hold him while he does, kissing the crown of his head. Granting him what he wants while your hips softly rock against his, friction forcing him to become rougher. A soft gasp leaves your lips when he softly nips the goosebump filled skin, nimble fingers undoing your brazier. One hand covering one while his teeth take your nipple in between them.

“Jaehyun…” It’s all he wanted to hear. His tongue is warm against your tit, kissing it like his life depends on it. Perhaps it does, neither of you are sure but prefer to act like so. You on the other hand work on unbuttoning his shirt, the cool linen doing no justice to the warmth of his skin that you crave. Little by little you both feel closer to each other. 

He gently lays you down, between the warmth of your bodies and the sunrays witnessing your farewell ritual, the cold had nothing against you. You watch him, admiring every crevice of his body while pushing off your bottoms, leaving you bare for him to gawk at while unbuttoning his pants. 

Your giddy smile teasing him to hurry, giggles reinforcing the sentiment. Taking his shaft in between his warm hands, Jaehyun begins to pump slowly. You attempt to replace his hands with your own which he denies. Your touch will send him overboard without even beginning.

Instead he crawls on the bed and over you, kissing you like he always does. With sweet adoration and love, one you take thankfully. You make sure to cradle his face, his upper body in contact with yours as his fingers thread closer in between your legs. The digits waltz around your inner thighs, reminiscing on the path you and him often took to the plaza and market for your daily shopping trips.

He smiles into the kiss, the memories of all he’s experienced with you consuming him. The position alone brings him to that day at the hot spring where you two began this but never got to go further. The wait was over and he had you here. Caged between his arms, flesh against flesh, warmth radiating and your pretty sounds that he couldn’t get enough of. 

Slowly his fingers intrude the cavern between your legs, a gasp leaving your lips that helped him deepen the kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, finding yours immediately to participate in a waltz where the two could share the words that neither of you were strong enough to share. His fingers curl and pump languidly within you. The action is so foreign and long forgotten that you feel like putty beneath him. 

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, warm breath danced across his skin. Lips perfectly wrapping around the flesh of his red earlobe. He’s so sweet and easy to digest, you wish to swallow him so he never leaves you but you know that can’t be so you will make do with what these few minutes can bring to you.

It’s not far off that he takes his fingers out of you, sticking his tongue out to savor you. Just as sweet as you find him. He moans in delight, rubbing off the dripping essence on his throbbing cock that had earlier been rubbing up against your leg. Jaehyun looks directly at you while pumping himself once again. You no longer look playful but rather hungry and desperate. You needed him like one would need air. Like an addict needs their fix and you fear yours will be taken away from you once you’re both done. The ticking clocks are making it boldly aware.

His eyebrows turn up, eyes softening as if asking if you’re ready. You nod as a response, replacing his hand and continuing his strokes, dragging him downwards slowly in the process. He knew if you touched him he would be thrown overboard, he’s near it but he’ll try to last just for you. And for the sake to excuse being together for longer.

Jaehyun fixed his position above you, nudging your legs minimally to fit between them. He went in slowly, bit by bit. Avoiding any discomfort that he could bring you. You pay him with pleasured moans and kisses to shut yourself up, he graciously takes them. 

“I–” he wants to say it, he wants to tell you how much he loves you. This feels like the perfect time. You shot him down again with that sweet smile of yours, shimming your hips to which he responds by beginning his thrusts. They’re gentle and steady, enough to make you feel something that you’re only able to describe through silent mewls. He holds you tightly, pulling one of your legs above his hip. Jaehyun tries everything to feel you closer, he wants to go deeper and deeper to no avail, his thrusts can only go so far and it makes him yearn for the possibility that he could have more of you but so little time and resources to figure it out.

Jaehyun can’t believe this is it. He’s thankful this is the memory of you he’ll take with him, he’ll cherish it with every fiber in him, treasuring it like one would the eucharist. All he could think about was how wonderful you felt and how perfect your body molds to his. If this isn’t a sign that you’re meant for each other then he doesn’t know what is. 

He worships you in these moments and will continue to do so when he’s gone. He now understands the feeling devotees feel when finding their God and as sacrilegious as it is, Jaehyun’s mind won’t change. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you…

And most of all you feel his love within you. It manifests itself through tears streaming down your cheek, moans muddled with sobs that he can’t decipher to stop and comfort you or continue his thrusts. You answer for him, begging him to keep going, that you’re so close but he knows there’s more to those words besides lust.

He prods, kissing you, being the one to beg this time to let him know what was wrong but you smile and kiss him along. Leaving a trail of kisses along his jugular and shoulders, hands grasping to his flesh for dear life.

“My sweet girl.. Please tell me what’s wrong? Y/n, I lo–” “I love you, I love you, I love you! I love you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun’s thrusts speed with every repeated word, elated to hear you say what he has wanted to all this time. To hear you spew the words he finally had the courage to let out. For you to hear and engrave in your heart and brain the way he has done so with your own.

He smiles, kissing you with a final thrust. Pulling out to place the proof of his love on your cramping stomach, the pain leaving when you, yourself release. Without a care for the mess, he lays on you, craving your warmth and touch.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know or understand.” The whisper pollutes the room, kissing you to cement the sentiment. You sigh, kissing the crown of his head, cradling his body against yours. If it was up to you, you would not mind dying like this. With the city’s racket as background noise, your heart palpitating against his ear, and his breathing the anecdote to tranquilize you.

Time wasn’t forgiving, his departure time was coming sooner than ever. Reluctantly, both pull away for a quick shower. It felt surreal how slow time felt when enthralled within the love you both had for each other but when reality hit, it rushed you all through the motion. Picking up your grandparents from the park, driving in silence to the airport while dealing with some traffic and the static of the radio. All of this just to arrive at the airport with minutes to spare and for the universe to not understand the pain you all felt.

It’s surreal how cruel and love can be.

“I guess this is it, huh?” Jaehyun is the first to break the silence, holding back his sobs, the redness of his nose and ears give him away. Your grandfather laughs, nodding as he takes him into a hug in which both men break down in a fit of cries. Your grandmother gives you a look, she wants to say something snarky but her tough exterior proves futile when even she feels a weep stuck in her throat. 

“You’ll contact us, right?” Your grandfather wipes his nose, sniffling while smiling warmly at the younger. Jaehyun nods, taking out his pocket book, scribbling his address for you all to send him letters. He doesn’t need yours, he has it saved by memory.

Your grandmother is second in hugging him, slipping in a bill for him to buy something back home. Both know it’s useless where he’ll go but he’ll cherish it as a memory from her just like the box of cigarettes your grandfather had gotten him. He doesn’t smoke but a token of love is a token of love. 

The elder woman pats his cheek, smiling at him tenderly. She hopes this isn’t the last time she’ll see him but she more so than anything hopes he doesn’t disappoint you after this departure. 

“Take care.” 

It leaves you at last. No more to say, no more actions to show. You just hope he comes back to you as promised. 

“I’ll miss you.” Your fingers fiddle with the paper in hand, his pretty handwriting hypnotizing you to believe this moment isn’t real.

“I love you.” That’s enough to call your attention. His palm cradles your face and he steals a quick tender kiss. Embarrassment of having done so in front of your grandparents floods you, you only hope they understand which they do.

“I love you too…”

You had all drowned the calling from the greeter at the door earlier on but things had to be done and reluctantly you both let go. Watching him enter that path had taken a piece of you and when he was out of view, your entire body felt like it would crumble.

You tried your darndest to not cry. To not show your grandparents how much his departure was hurting you. Futile is what they would call it, your sobs were becoming louder as your grandfather drove back home, hoping to get there before night caught up to you all. 

Nothing good ever comes out of crying. You’ve known this for a while, for you and your grandmother crying only continues to further make you miserable. Not like the relief it brings your grandfather and Jaehyun, that’s something you think you’re both cursed on.

It wasn’t too far on the road that you kept missing him. Regretting not carrying the film strip with pictures of you both to look at him at every moment now. Your only token of his existence came from the piece of paper between your fingers. Flapping around with the harsh air coming in from your grandfather’s rapid driving.

You believe it smells like him, Jaehyun’s soft musk that you love with all your being. It’s even warm from his grasp, and his pretty handwriting taunts you, letting you know it was permanent on it unlike with you. The paper will remember Jaehyun’s actions against it, it has proof, not like you who will rot at the fact that his actions can be erased easily. What’s worse is that the paper continues to torture you, freeing itself from your fingers and flying out of the car at a rate that even if your grandfather stops you won’t catch up to it nor find it.

“No!”

Your words are useless and frightening to be heard from the elders who question what happened. You tell them between sobs, losing all composure. Hunching over yourself to cry against your knees. This was it, you knew it was too good to be true. Your only hope relies on the letter Jaehyun will send you.

Letters that will never arrive.

Questions. There’s plenty of those that have plagued Jaehyun’s mind since he left. He remembers leaving on great terms but as the months progressed his letters were left unanswered. If he had taken in the home phone number or Gabby’s he’d call for them years ago. Instead he found himself at the front door of the place he once called home with a panic rushing through his blood stream but hopeful nostalgia in his heart. 

There was a doorbell outside of the patio door, it had been painted orange. Very fluorescent, it reminded him of Gabby’s store. He had passed by it on his way here, buying a few beers like the day he learnt he had to go back. She didn’t remember him and he made no effort to remind her. Some things are better left in the past.

He didn’t hear many animals inside and it worried him, scared of how much change had been done. It took a couple of minutes for the door to be answered. Received by the presence of a kid he didn’t know but seemed to be around three years old.

“Who?” He looks at Jaehyun quizzically, tilting his head like Ollie used to do. “Um… is Mr. and Mrs–”  “Don’t open doors, how many times do I have to tell you that!” 

Well there’s a voice he recognized. Jaehyun stood up straight, looking up from the kid to the owner of the voice. When both took in the image of the other, Ollie was the first to take Jaehyun into an embrace. So much giddiness and joy in his squeal that he felt like that nineteen year old again. Even his grasp is childish and brute, shaking Jaehyun around. Jaehyun laughs, squeezing Ollie in return.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back! When did you get here?” The patio looked the same. Fewer sheep and goats in the pen, Camila was gone and replaced with a pig. The dogs were strangers to him and the cats seemed to have forgotten him just like the chickens.

Ollie led him to the kitchen, at least that remained the same and he felt comforted by that fact. The two took a seat not far from each other, firewood crackling in the chimney to bring them warmth. Jaehyun handed him a beer bottle, cheering for his return and Ollie’s growth. 

“Why didn’t you think I’d return? I promised you all I would.” Jaehyun smiles, wiping away the alcohol residue from his lips. Ollie shrugs, doing the same. “You never kept in contact so after a few months of not getting your letters we lost hope. I was really mad at you for the longest time… I thought you had just abandoned us… Y/n.”

Jaehyun is aware of the spite in his tone but he can’t help but feel vindicated for something that isn’t true. His eyebrows furrow, leaning over the table for Ollie to feel his confusion. The younger one tilts his head like the boy from earlier.

“Ollie, I kept sending letters nearly every week for the past five years. I thought you all were the ones to leave me in the cold. What do you mean I didn’t keep in contact?” The roles seemed to have reversed. Ollie mimicked Jaehyun’s stance, elbows on the table while downing the remains of his drink.

“We never got a single letter. Pa was so disappointed he cried often about it. Ma didn’t but it was obvious in the way she took care of her plants. Your departure was enough but you really hurt them after that, they saw you as a son, you know.” Ollie shakes his head, swatting a fly away to avoid looking at Jaehyun.

“And Y/n… you really ruined her, Jaehyun. She would spend days in your room hoping to find an address or a phone number. At least to reproach your actions but instead she would cry herself to sleep in there. Her parents had to take her back home after a year, so she found a job and Ma and Pa were taken in by their daughter. She was doing better by then but still had to stay in the city just in case. They left me to take care of the house but it’s not the same.” 

Ollie’s voice is no longer harsh, it’s hurt. Jaehyun can’t help but blame himself with how things unfolded but he was sure he wrote those letters. He kept copies of them to recall everything he once said to you and them and if he had known you never received them, he would’ve bought them.

“I-I…” He sighs, “I promise I sent the letters! I made sure to drop them off at the publishing house’s mailing room. I can’t believe this…” His hand comes to his forehead but Ollie shrugs, picking at some peanuts he had laying around. “Beats me then. Why didn’t you visit in that case? We waited long enough.” 

Reality is that there will always be evil lurking around and seeing how this place brought you joy and peace, the publishing house did everything in their power to yank it away from him. Jaehyun isn’t a bubbling author full of life and hope. No, Jaehyun is a bleak cynical writer who dwells on the hatred he has for the house and manifests it through broody characters that find no meaning in life. If they had to bring that back, they would. He can have his one train wreck of a joyful book but newcomers have to go back to what they were. 

Jaehyun’s head hangs low, all excuses feeling useless. “Manger and publisher didn’t let me. We spent two years editing the final draft and by the following, publishing was in the works but the investors tried everything to change it that we had to fight for another year or so. I wasn’t even allowed to visit my parents, they had to come to me. Isn’t that insane?”

Ollie nods, sympathy and pity muddling on his face. Cruelty at its finest.

“We only traveled for promotions at the end of last year once it was published and some months after this one but I ‘escaped’ if you will and here I am.” His smile twists to the side, dawning upon him that misery will accompany him everywhere he goes.

“I’m sorry.” 

“For what? It’s not your fault.” Jaehyun hands him another bottle. Ollie nods, “I know, but things could’ve been different if you didn’t work in hell.”

The two laugh, clinking their bottles again. All was lost but one thing and that was the hope of Ollie helping him connect with you and explain it all. He didn’t want you to have such a bad image of him when all he’s ever done is show you how much he loves you.

“What have you done with your life then?” “I got married and had a kid. The brat from out there.” 

The kid had been playing with the hens outside the sprint door. Cats surrounded him and reminded Jaehyun of Ollie when he used to play with the animals while pretending to be doing labor work. 

“Looks just like you.” The younger hums. “He’s just like me too.” The two laugh heartily, reminiscing on your grandfather’s laugh. 

He hesitates for a moment but ultimately asks. “How’s Y/n doing?” There’s longing in his voice but the look in Ollie’s eyes tells him something isn’t right. The fact that he’s holding back a cough, a grave clue. The younger one wants to stall but knows that eventually he’ll find out if he keeps looking. 

“Y/n is soon to get engaged…” Like a bucket of cold water, Jaehyun feels his arteries clog and his body run cold, turning stone hard. “She’s been seeing a guy from work for the past two years, they relocated him to somewhere in Maranello, and now they’re living there. He sent a letter asking me to be there for when he proposes… I got the letter yesterday actually.” 

Ollie handed him the letter still inside the envelope. “He’s a nice guy but lacks some sense. He treats her well and provides for her but I’m not sure if it’ll thrive.” 

The now father stands up with a bucket of corn kernels, calling his child to feed the chickens while they’re all huddled together. He gives Jaehyun one last look with a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

“You’re welcome to stay, in your old room or here.” Jaehyun thanks him. “Landline has long overseas calls now, do with that as you will.” A toothy reassuring grin, Ollie walks out of the home leaving Jaehyun to his vices.

He gives the boys one last look, gaze dropping to the letter and reading over it around four times. It lacks emotion, it’s formal and only demonstrates excitement when describing your work on the garden. The only thing that reminds you of this place now that you’re miles away. Behind it is a letter written by you.

‘Very well, I’ll send you a care package later, Ollie. I wanted to remind you that we have a new phone so I’ve written it down. Don’t forget to write it down in the contact book or you’ll have to find a way to call me this time!

I love you, Gremlin, take care!

Sincerely, Y/n.’

If the angels weren’t clear as day, then he was stupid if he didn’t take the opportunity. 

Jumping out of his seat to the bar, Jaehyun stumbles to grab the phone, nothing like Gabby’s old dinky phone. He dials the foreign numbers, fingers tracing over your written name to feel the connection you did with the paper that lasted you a measly few hours.

“Hello?”

That sweet voice transported him five years to the past. Trembling within the walls of his brain and heart, waking up whatever joy he once felt before leaving this wonderful place. Even when your voice seemed aggravated from the silence on his end while garnering courage, he felt alive again.

“Hello?!”

He sighs, clutching to the phone for dear life, facing the outside allowing the sun rays to fall on him like the day he rested over your exposed body to feel your heart and soul envelop him in the love you once –and he hopes you still have– had for him.

“Y/n–” “...” 

The hesitance hurts, old feelings swarming in like a desired plague. You won’t ever forget that voice.

“Jaehyun…” “I remember everything.”

[midnightlvrs]

bob reynolds rant/analysis bcs i have thoughts

i feel like a lot of fic writers misunderstand bob’s character a lot and i’ve noticed there’s a lot of misinformation and infantilisation of his character.

firstly, bob is a grown man, not a baby. i think people seem to baby him due to his mental state but in reality he isn’t that at all. he isn’t an “uwu baby who can’t do anything”, he’s a man with mental health issues and a history of addiction trying to get control over his life and it feels very counterproductive to infantilise him because of this. (plus we’ve seen him call out john walker for being an asshole and he’s had moments where he can be sarcastic, i am a sassy bob truther).

secondly, when it comes to his powers, people definitely misinterpret what they actually are. his powers can’t just happen out of nowhere from what i know. it’s very implied that bob is bipolar and the sentry and void are manifestations of different states in bipolar. the sentry is meant to represent the mania whereas the void is meant to represent the depression. bob himself is just the middle ground between the two. the sentry doesn’t just appear, from what the film portrayed, his ego and delusions of grandeur have to be fed to put his mental state into that position (for example, val feeding into his god complex by saying he was better than all the avengers rolled into one), when he was the sentry, he had a moment of insecurity after ava questioned his hair and told val about it but switched up once he started to challenge why he needed to listen to val if he was so powerful and mighty.

now, iirc, the void is what follows after the sentry. it’s the crash after his mania (bob himself says he has extreme highs followed by extreme lows). from what it looks like, the void comes out after bob experiences the sentry. like a hangover after getting drunk, you’re really happy and wild while drunk but absolutely depressed and tired once the hangover kicks in. it seems to be the same kind of concept. and then, as we know, once the void is “gone” he doesn’t remember anything.

in conclusion, the thunderbolts* wouldn’t walk on eggshells because “the void” will appear randomly whenever bob feels any negative emotion because that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. bob even says in the post credits he can’t be the sentry without “the other guy” showing up. meaning that the void only happens after the sentry.

anyway this was a lot of yapping but i was tired of seeing the mischaracterisation and infantilisation of bob and felt like i needed to say something. if i got anything wrong please correct me as i’m only going off of my own interpretation and research.

[imustbenuts]

the hundred line coming of age route thoughts about the narrative and eito. (general spoilers)

the guy's officially multiplied inside my brain. anyway.

this route made me laugh a lot. thinking about how eito was defeated with the power of friendship that he helped curate gives me the giggles.

but thats not the real intersting bit for me. i found it interesting on a game mechanical level how much this route mirrors the beat of the 2nd scenario (that branches into truth and rebellion routes), but consistently refused to let me/the player pick decisions for takumi at the parts where he should.

in effect here, eito has hijacked the decisions for takumi and the latter willingly lets him subconsciously or not. takumi seems very happy to have the old eito back that he just. throws everything he knows about the actual eito out the window. sure he still wants eito to be happy but this isnt proper understanding, its one sided imposing of his will.

thanks to that whole dynamic though theres the very cool part of him coming up with the plan of cutting himself in half to banzai on veshy and also the not at all cool (and very evil actually what the actual fuck man!!) idea of brainwashing eito to keep him in check.

takumi does not see the real eito in this route and does not seem to meaningfully care about him here. this is like. mundanely evil shit. he does things just heroic enough to get the girl but in doing so makes everything (the truth, the reality, the nuance of the war) a farce for his shounen plotline.

takumi was this close to getting eito on his side if he just showed concern and understanding about his condition, but he just kinda went 'eh, sirei can brainwash this away no big'. the can of evil he just unleashed unto this route with that decision is so fucking absurd that im actually glad eito went final boss on takumi.

because fuck you takumi, you dont deserve the full good ending on this route actually. the friendship hardwork victory tropes? pweh.

understandable.

takumi ends this route either by mutually killing himself and eito, or he does the heroic thing and gets the girl but with eito just quitting the plot. i cant even blame eito for offing himself. ...i kinda feel terrible for him actually. this route is torture on the guy.

they also... do not make it to day 100, and the exodus project is probably still ongoing. they lack critical information that immunizes them to further manipulation from both sides. eito pulls off the ultimate pallete corruption here at least for me. its great.

with what i mentioned in my eito meta appreciation thoughts post im adding "eito can also be the judge jury executioner of the mc", but as a little bit of that as an extra at least in this route.

its very fun but also very fascinating at what happens if takumi just does his own things instead of the player braincell input

also me at eito in the final battle: "why are you here why are you even bothering to fight i can delete you in 2 turns!!! why did you engage in wave 3 like this?! what did you come here for?! go home!!!!!"

also also. shion saying "the power of hemoanima is omnipotent (万能bannou)", and then having takumi interpreting that as "erractic (出鱈目 detarame)" is killing me. detarame implies 'asspull' or 'complete bullshit' in this context.

EDIT:

this cg in the Best Friends ending is also. mwah. the way its framed is so one sided. the handle of the scythe seperates the two. interpretation ahoy but i see this as takumi's footing (social power context) being higher, and he can just force his ideals to eito, but doesnt fully go to his level to understand him. eito seems to be just on the ground waiting for death and dragging takumi with him. neither is willing to compromise their position to seek full mutual understanding

...until takumi lowers himself by giving in to his anger and hate, forcing himself and his whole deal onto eito

lowkey wondering if this whole plot was just some kind of long winded suicide plan by eito too.

[prettydaisygirl]

Hiiii!! Congrats on 500 followers!!

Can I request a Daisy with Remus with Roommate AU with the prompt “are you okay? Don’t lie”/“let me help you.”

I twisted/sprained my ankle the other day which is my inspiration. 🙃 Do you know how hard it is to not walk? We use our feet a lot 🙄

Anyways congrats again!!!!!! I love your writing!!!!! Xx🌼🌸🌺🌻🌷💐

girlll i am so sorry to hear about your ankle but oh boy do i understand what you mean. i've had four foot surgeries and the crazy gymnastics i've had to do while navigating around with broken feet is wilddd. hope you enjoy and are having an amazing day <3

🌼 daisy (innocence, loyalty, pure love): pick a character and an AU from the lists above & a prompt from this list and I will write a <500 word drabble

daisy's 500 follower celebration bouquet

Remus Lupin, roommate, and "Are you okay? Don't lie"/"Let me help you."

cw: reader has a broken foot in a cast, reader hurts her knee, reader is accident prone (clearly), gamer!remus?

°˖✧✿✧˖°

There’s a loud crash that comes from the kitchen, followed by the echoed sounds of a yelp and then some very colorful curses. Remus’ brows raise as he removes his headphones, head turning toward the door as he blinks a few times. There’s nothing now, just quiet.

“You alright, love?” He calls out, waiting for a response to make sure you’re still breathing. 

“Um, yes! I’m fine!” You answer, and there’s another small round of sounds: your quiet, unintelligible words and some bumps against wood as you presumably move things around. Remus decides you’ve suffered enough and stands, the joints in his knees cracking as he finally leaves the slumped over position of his gaming chair. 

You’re seated on your small knee scooter, looking at the offending body part with sharp eyes. It’s not even your knee that’s injured, it’s your foot. But judging by the red, swollen skin surrounding the aforementioned joint, Remus would guess you’ve hurt it too.

“What happened, lovely?” He asks with a tsk, pulling up a chair next to you in the kitchen. He’d squat if he wasn’t worried about his own knees, Remus is quite familiar with joint pain. 

You look sheepish and guilty before you even start talking, propping your casted lower leg on Remus’ thigh. He doesn’t mind. “Well… I wanted to make some soup but I didn’t want to bother you.” You ignore his accusatory look. “I thought I could reach it, but the scooter slid out from under me and I landed on my knee.” Your thumb brushes over the swollen skin as you speak.

Remus’ first thought is to ask you whether or not you had the brake set on the knee scooter. He realizes this question won’t be helpful now, but glances down to examine the scooter and quickly moves to set it. His movements seem to catch your attention and you avoid his gaze for a moment until he speaks again.

“Are you okay? Don’t lie.” His voice, sweet and spicy like cinnamon, has you hesitantly finding his eyes again. Your nod is slow and unsure, so Remus bends forward to examine your knee himself. Aside from being red, there’s no obvious injury. You don’t cry out or hiss when he encourages a bend in your leg, but he does think it might bruise. 

“Let me help you.” He says, standing and placing your broken foot in the chair gently. He moves to the freezer, finding an ice pack for your knee and placing a towel over your skin before laying the ice pack down. He doesn’t want to try and interpret the look on your face that makes his heart flutter when he does this, instead occupying himself with grabbing the soup from the cabinet you’d been searching for.

He begins to warm it up over the stove and leads you back into the living room where you’ve been camping out for the last several days. He makes sure you’re situated and comfortable before taking a seat next to you on the couch. 

“You know I want to help you, right? You really can ask me for anything.” He says, and he means it.

“I don’t want to be a burden.” Your voice is small and you shake your head. Remus places a hand over your swollen knee, brushing over the skin with a feather-light touch.

“You aren’t a burden, love. Never.” He says. And he means that too. 

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[jazlynriddle-starwars]

Your Only Master Ch 1:

Summary:

“I can't watch any more.” Obi-Wan mutters under his breath, trembling fingers reach for the console. He knows what is coming and he knows he can't hear it, if he hears it– He's too slow. “Yes, my Master.” Anakin's hologram says and Obi-Wan's pain ignites into rage.

In the ruins of the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan finds the security recordings and discovers the truth. All of it. That Anakin didn’t Fall to anger or for power, but onto his knees in fear and exhaustion, begging for Padme's life.

Having witnessed Sidious twist Anakin’s love into a weapon, Obi-Wan abandons the only path he's ever known, choosing to save Anakin. Not for the Jedi, not for the Republic, not even for the galaxy.

But for himself.

To reclaim Anakin, Obi-Wan surrenders to the Will of the Force, stepping into the ashes of everything he once believed in and discovering his own destiny in the wake of Anakin's.

What begins in righteous fury becomes more as Obi-Wan helps Anakin raise his children, wrestles with the past, and carves a bloody new path. If all else must burn so that Anakin never has to, so be it.

They will become something the galaxy has never seen before.

Warnings/Tags: Sith Obi-Wan, good dad Anakin, big happy family ending! Smut, philosophy, politics, world building, Force Dyad obikin!

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: Canon typical violence and smut. Yes, you read that right, sex in the first chapter, near the end. Look, these idiots need to get their horny out of the way before we can get to the philosophy and world building that makes up 80% of this story. Post-nut clarity is necessary for brain cells to be functioning enough for philosophy. I know it's unconventional, but what, 14 years of slow burn not slow enough for you? You want me to make it last even longer? Geez. Just kidding, I do have an Obikin slow burn that is about as dark, way grosser and more angsty than this one. Go check it out if you want slow xP So, enjoy this chapter's smut while it lasts because it's gonna be several chapters before we get more. This first chapter puts the philosophy on the back burner in lieu of practicalities and story, before we get deep into world building and character introspection in the following chapters. Next chapter will be up in a week! Most of this fic is a result of the excessive time I've spent thinking about the philosophies and practices of the Jedi and the Sith, the ways in which both failed, the opportunities wasted, and the absurdity of the Jedi literally having the ability to feel each others’ emotions yet somehow decided to cultivate a culture that encourages solitary emotional suppression, rather than communal emotional growth and mutual support. Anyway, here's the abstract for this thesis fic: No code, creed, or philosophy exists in a vacuum. Interpretation is its lifeblood, its danger, and its potential. What we draw from a code is shaped by who we are—and what we need it to mean. Give anyone ten random words and time, and they’ll find a way to make it prophecy, dogma, or damnation. That’s not the words’ fault. That’s ours.

“Wait, Master.” Obi-Wan calls out to Yoda, unable to resist the pull towards the brightly lit consoles. “There is something I must know.”

“If into the security recordings you go, only pain will you find.” Yoda cautions him and Obi-Wan swallows, but presses on, striding past his elder.

“I must know the truth, Master.” Obi-Wan insists, his heart swirling with grief, loss, and fear.

He's lost everyone, his family. His brothers, his sisters, his fathers and mothers, even the clones that he'd thought of as friends. He doesn't know what he's hoping to see. They hadn't found Anakin's body amongst the fallen. Perhaps his brilliant boy had fled successfully. He hadn't felt Anakin nearby and for all his disobedience, the young man has always been so resourceful. Perhaps he’d gone in pursuit of the traitor or Sith that killed their brethren.

Or maybe Anakin had been kidnapped by the murderer, his courageous reckless boy was the Chosen One after all. The Sith have always been interested in him, stalking him, baiting him. What nefarious things Obi-Wan could imagine them doing to the young man he'd trained. If Anakin had been kidnapped, he would need to find his former Padawan. There was a high chance that Yoda and himself are the last surviving Jedi, there would be nobody else who could go to Anakin's aid.

It worries Obi-Wan that he can't say for certain that he wouldn't defy Yoda's orders if necessary. Seek out and rescue the boy that he had practically raised as his child no matter the cost. He shouldn't, shouldn't let his emotions guide his actions, but the thought of letting Anakin die, of losing him alongside his brothers and sisters, is beyond agonising.

Anakin is all he has left.

He knows he's attached. He's tried so desperately to hold it back, to hide it and bury it. But he is. Terribly so. And the pain from losing his brethren is making it impossible to suppress or ignore. Impossible to pretend it doesn't exist. Hope isn't meant to be this painful.

Obi-Wan knows a part of him would do anything for Anakin. Even help the boy hide his relationship with Senator Amidala, no matter how much pain their love causes him. Obi-Wan knows what it feels like to be parted from the woman you love, as he had in his youth, a scar that he's carried since then. And if the person Anakin wants is not him, but loves Anakin back just as fiercely as Obi-Wan does, he will not come between them.

He needs Anakin to be both safe and happy.

Well, as happy as he can be, Obi-Wan isn't even sure that's truly possible.

Then he turns on the holo... and his heart stops. Anakin? My Anakin? The Sith, the traitor. The murderer of our younglings, our brethren.

“It can't be.” Obi-Wan breathes, horror now mingled with grief and fear. He chokes on the bile rising in the back of his throat. “It can't be.”

He watches in a daze, as what must surely be Darth Sidious enters, and his Anakin—his beautiful, kind, proud boy—kneels before the man.

“You have done well, my new apprentice.” The hologram of the Sith Lord says, and Obi-Wan feels his horror begin to melt into something dark and ugly. Slimy coils undulating in his insides. “Now, Lord Vader, go and bring peace to the Empire.”

“I can't watch any more.” Obi-Wan mutters under his breath, trembling fingers reach for the console. He knows what is coming and he knows he can't hear it, if he hears it–

He's too slow.

“Yes, my Master.” Anakin's hologram says and Obi-Wan's pain ignites into rage.

After everything he's done for Anakin. Clothed him. Bathed him. Fed him. Suffered for him. Worried after him. Taken Anakin's sorrow, fear, and anger, carried as much of it with the boy as the Code would allow. Endured every time Anakin hurt him. Been there for Anakin. Tried to teach him. Tried to guide him. Tried to do good by him. Protected him. Loved him.

How long? How long has his boy been another's? How long has Anakin been under the thrall of another man? What else has he done in service of the Sith? How much of the boy that he loves is real?

Anger and an almost masochistic need to know—his blasted insatiable curiosity—drives Obi-Wan now. He rewinds the footage, hacks into the Central Surveillance Grid, and tracks Anakin's steps all the way back to Chancellor Palpatine's office. Watches Master Windu confront the evil man, watches Anakin seal Master Windu's fate. The revelation that the Chancellor had been Darth Sidious all along.

Through it all, even if Anakin ended up saving the Sith Lord, Obi-Wan is relieved to see that Anakin had turned Palpatine in at first. Wanted the man arrested at least, showed horror at his own actions, collapsed to his knees after Sidious threw Windu out the window.

Comforted beyond belief that his boy hadn't secretly been Sidious’ apprentice for years. Hadn't been lying to Obi-Wan, faking his love and compassion.

“I will do whatever you ask. Just help me save Padme's life. I can't live without her.” Anakin begs in the hologram and Obi-Wan's heart aches as he gazes at Anakin's tear-stricken face. Oh, my boy, my poor, sweet, loving, beautiful boy.

His anger towards Anakin dissipates, evaporating back into sorrowful love, as it often does. Is this his fault? Obi-Wan feels regret bite at his heart. Perhaps he should have stopped Anakin from being with Senator Amidala, but he'd loved Anakin too much to hurt him that way. Was not the war enough pain for his Padawan? He'd resolved to allow Anakin as much choice and agency as he could, but if his boy would choose this...

“Good. To cheat death is a power only one has achieved, but if we work together, I know we can discover the secret.” Palpatine says, and for the first time in his life, Obi-Wan feels true hate. Pure unadulterated hate.

He'd thought he knew what hate felt like, when Maul murdered Satine, cast her down at his feet, made him watch helplessly. But Obi-Wan now knows that it had merely been anger and sorrow, grief for the loss of a noble soul, fallen in battle against evil. His pain tempered by the knowledge that she would not want him to lose himself in it.

This man, however, isn’t taking Anakin’s life, but his soul. This scum had corrupted Anakin’s heart...

Obi-Wan had always felt uncomfortable about Palpatine's friendship with Anakin, always felt like the man was trying to steal Anakin from him. Trying to undermine his authority over Anakin's upbringing. Obi-Wan had thought it was just his own attachment talking. Jealousy. Possessiveness. Attachment. The path to the Dark Side. He'd suppressed it in terror. Acting on strong emotions was not the Jedi way. It was wrong, dangerous. Anakin was not his.

But now...

Now, to see that man using Anakin's goodness and love to manipulate him. That it hadn't been all in his head, that it hadn't just been Obi-Wan's own emotions getting the better of him. How much of Anakin's troubled Padawan years could be laid at the feet of this man? Obi-Wan's jaw tightens, he should have stopped Palpatine, Chancellor or not.

This was all his fault. He should have acted on his feelings and stood between his child and that man. That monster.

Palpatine, no, Sidious will pay.

For corrupting and breaking his Padawan, his apprentice, his boy.

The anger seething in his chest is like nothing he's ever felt before. Less like burning anger and more like acid, corrosive, sour and bitter. The sight of Anakin kneeling before the Sith Lord, pledging himself to Sidious burns itself into his retinas.

The Sith Lord is no doubt banking on Obi-Wan's own concession. Convinced that Obi-Wan would let Anakin go as he should, leave Anakin to face the consequences of his own decisions, as he had so many times. Simply rolling over and allowing Sidious to take his child from him.

Well, not this time.

Never again.

Anakin has only one Master and that is Obi-Wan. His Master Qui-Gon had bestowed the most strong, passionate, loving, brilliant child on Obi-Wan, and he isn't about to let the boy go without a fight. Anakin is his .

Only his.

Obi-Wan turns off the footage as Sidious gives Anakin his new name, before he is forced to hear his boy call the man his Master again, and turns to face Yoda. His body aching with the effort it has taken to remain outwardly calm and hold his turbulent emotions behind his mental shields.

The elder eyes him warily, saying. “Destroy the Sith we must.”

Yes. Yes. I must.

“Send me to kill the emperor.” Obi-Wan asks—no demands. “I will not kill Anakin.”

“To fight this Lord Sidious, strong enough you are not.” Yoda rejects him flatly and Obi-Wan has to force himself to calm, lest the Master sense his fury at being denied.

“He is like my brother. I cannot do it.” Obi-Wan states, and before Yoda can respond, he cuts in. “Master Yoda, please. With all due respect. If I face Ana– Darth Vader, he will live. I might not be able to kill the emperor, but if you go, at least Sidious will be robbed of his most powerful apprentice.”

Yoda hesitates and Obi-Wan presses further. “Sidious is weakened, we saw what Master Windu did to the man. I will buy you time to handle Vader, track the Sith's movements. And when you have taken his apprentice, you can join me, and we can face the emperor together.”

Yoda closes his eyes for a moment, and then gazes into his own. “Certain you are, that kill him you cannot?”

“I cannot. I’m sorry, Master.” Obi-Wan lowers his eyes, hoping the Master will agree to this. If not, he is ready to fight the elder if necessary. To rush to Anakin's side and warn him.

But after several long seconds, Master Yoda sighs, heavy and tired. “Very well. To the Dark Side, I do not wish to lose you. Go I will, to find Darth Vader.”

“Thank you, Master.” Obi-Wan bows his head to hide his relief. “Senator Amidala should be able to lead you to Anakin. Here, take this.”

Obi-Wan hands Yoda a copy of the security footage, and attaches a tracker to it so he can follow them later. He feels bad for sending Yoda to her, but he hopes Senator Amidala will understand, he needs the Master to leave his side as soon as possible. With any luck, she will be able to resist and delay Master Yoda as well, buying Obi-Wan time to do what needs to be done.

The elder hesitates for a moment more, before he accepts it with a nod, eyeing Obi-Wan carefully. “Find the Senator, I will. Monitor Darth Sidious, you must.”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan bows his head again and then watches as the small Jedi hobbles off down the hall.

Obi-Wan swallows. He must act swiftly, otherwise Yoda will actually kill Anakin before he manages to kill the Emperor.

This is a risky gambit, Obi-Wan knows. He might not be able to kill the Emperor, but as foolish as this is, he has to face the man. Has to right his failures. He has faith, at least, in Anakin's powers. The boy is strong enough to hold out against Yoda and Obi-Wan will do whatever it takes to protect him.

Even risk his own life and the galaxy.

He makes haste to Palpatine's chambers, and with every step, Obi-Wan feels his anger become increasingly unbearable. Feels the darkness that he'd held back for so long begin to creep in around the corners of his heart, gnawing at the edges of his mind.

A part of Obi-Wan knows what is happening, the teachings of the Jedi warn of this, and he's quietly struggled against it for so long. From the day he'd woken up to find Anakin, his small boy, curled up beside him on the bed. When he didn't scold the child and shoo him back to his room, but simply wrapped his arms around that tiny body, holding Anakin to his chest. Even as he pushed a drunk teenager away, sticky lips peeling from his own, he'd known.

He was doomed.

The way his heart ached as Anakin grew into a man, the forbidden feelings that also grew in his chest, fighting so hard to stamp them down and force them away. To hold Anakin at a distance even while pulling on his leash, to push the boy away from him, so that both of them might not fall into depravity.

Now, look where that had gotten him. He'd failed to curb his own feelings. And pushing Anakin away had only pushed the boy into the arms of a vile man who plainly wanted nothing more than to use his wonderful child. If Anakin would fall anyway, then what was the point of holding back anymore?

He should have taken Anakin from the Order, out of Palpatine's reach. All the suffering he'd put them both through, it was all for nought. All in vain.

Regret tastes bitter on the back of his tongue, souring and calcifying into toxins that burn through his veins as he approaches the Chancellor's room.

Even if he should die here today, if the poison infecting his soul is enough to take Sidious with him, Obi-Wan will be satisfied. He lights his saber, fingers itching for violence.

A flick of his blade past the walls is enough to cut down the Red Guards by the Chancellor's doors. Obi-Wan has no mercy to spare for anyone who serves the new Emperor.

He steps inside and sets his baleful gaze on the wretched face of the Sith Lord. Truly, this man is a monster, a demon. It is fitting that he wear the hideous visage of one, as justice is done.

“Master Kenobi, you survived.” Darth Sidious drawls and then pauses, a wide grin spreading across the man's grotesque face. “And what's this I feel?”

“You will die today.” Obi-Wan says, raising his saber towards the filth that dared take what is his.

“I sense darkness in you, young Master Kenobi.” Darth Sidious’ smirk widens. “Who would have thought that the most virtuous paragon of the Jedi could harbour such a well-hidden affinity for the Dark Side.”

“Silence.” Obi-Wan hisses through clenched teeth.

The pounding in his head makes it ache. There's something dark clawing its way into his insides, nestling in its new home with a purr. Or is it clawing its way out of him? He isn't sure. All Obi-Wan knows is that he wants to hurt this man, wants to make him suffer. Anakin is mine.

The Sith Lord laughs and cackles, it grates on his ears. “Perhaps I should have tried to seduce you to the Dark Side too. I can feel a great power sleeping inside you now. If you join me, I can help you cultivate it.”

“I don't care.” Obi-Wan snaps, he really doesn't. He just wants Anakin.

“Come now, if you join me, you can stand beside your old Padawan.” The Emperor coos and Obi-Wan's patience hits its limit.

“I think I'd much rather just kill you.” With that, Obi-Wan darts forward and swings his saber at the man.

Time passes in a blur, Obi-Wan feels only his anger and hate welling up within him. This man had taken everything he'd ever loved from him. Started the war that killed Satine, the woman he'd loved as a boy, before he met Anakin. Turned his own clones—his loyal men, Cody even—against him, forced Anakin to betray him, killed all of Obi-Wan's fellow Jedi, his family.

Die.

That single thought drives his swings, and their sabers hiss when they meet. Red against blue. His anger and righteous fury lend strength to every blow, forcing the Sith back relentlessly, unwilling to cede ground when so much is at stake. When Anakin is at stake.

He barely even feels the pain from Sidious’ dark lightning. It can't compare to the pain he felt when he thought Anakin lost. That he still feels at the thought that he yet might. Searing hot fire courses through his body and the Sith looks legitimately shocked when Obi-Wan gathers it up, adds his own hate to it, and throws it right back at the man with twice the intensity.

The Emperor's agonised screams are music, the stench of burning skin fills the room, and his panicked scramble for the door is the most amusing sight Obi-Wan has seen in years.

“Wait! Wait!” The Sith screams, but he doesn't.

Obi-Wan swings his saber and the man's head rolls across the floor.

It is done.

He feels a satisfaction he's never felt before. It's intoxicating, powerful. He thinks he might even have laughed as he staggers back from the headless body.

Sadly however, he doesn't get the time to savour this victory, because in the next moment, he feels something slam into his mental shields, cracking them with brute force and burrowing inside.

Obi-Wan releases a shout of pain and collapses, clutching at his head. It hurts. Searing pain everywhere, like a thousand needles digging into every inch of his skin. A foreign presence, a hostile mind trying to break his own and gain a foothold in his body. He struggles against it, feels it tighten around him, choking the life from him.

He can feel Sidious’ glee, the Sith's eagerness to take his body and then eventually Anakin's, and Obi-Wan realises that he’d fallen into a trap.

In desperation—bereft of the Code and betrayed by his own Dark emotions that had allowed Sidious entrance into his body—Obi-Wan abandons all else and reaches for the Living Force. The pillar of his existence, the Will that Master Qui-Gon had always told him to rely on.

Then, he touches something he's never felt before, something just past the Living Force, and it feels like the entire cosmos has opened itself to him. Unfurling like a blossoming bloom.

Obi-Wan tumbles into its warm embrace, drawn in by the Cosmic Force, and as he does, he sees a vision of his Anakin.

He looks older, worn from decades lived in solitude, bereft of loving touch. Broken and alone, his body clad in a suit of black. Bald and scarred, covered in welts and burn marks. He feels his boy dying slowly, pain with every breath, heart full of fear for the life of his child. Loneliness, regret and sorrow. He feels his boy fade into the netherworld of the Force, heart aching with longing and a single thought in his mind, Obi-Wan, Master...

Sheer anger and horror rips through Obi-Wan. He has seen many futures in the Force, but this one. This one, he will not allow to come true.

Obi-Wan feels the Force whisper to him, urging him forward, feeding him its strength. He has turned his back on the Jedi Code, and it is only now that he feels it, the mandate that he has been ignoring this whole time. As blinded by his adherence to the Code and the will of the Jedi Council, as a Sith was by their negative emotions.

Years wasted feeling uncertain if he was the right man to raise Anakin, if Master Qui-Gon would have done better with his boy. A decade spent denying his own attachment to Anakin, fretting about being unworthy and incompetent. Terrified of embracing his feelings for the boy he'd raised. Ashamed and fearful that he would fail Anakin by doing so.

Now he sees the truth, sees why the Living Force has always seemed just slightly out of reach. Its power denied to him, because Obi-Wan was too busy trying to be a good Jedi to follow his destiny.

He had been chosen by the Force.

Chosen to protect its child.

By any means necessary, even if he must embrace the ways of the Sith to do so.

He draws up all his strength, bolstered by the might of the Force, and tears into the invading mind, shredding it with precision. He uses his will and skill in Mindform to sink his teeth into the invader, crunches down viciously, and swallows. Consumes. He digs into the intruding mind—Darth Sidious’ mind—gnaws at its insides and drains every drop of blood he can find. He feels the Sith Lord's pain as his weakened mind finds, not an escape in Obi-Wan's body, but a predator waiting to subsume him.

He devours every morsel of the Sith's soul, his knowledge and his power. It is all his now. Like Anakin will be. Like Anakin was always meant to be.

The last dregs of Darth Sidious’ mind fades into oblivion and Obi-Wan opens his eyes, disoriented.

He is still himself, still Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He pushes himself to his feet slowly, wobbling slightly on the spot. His throat is raw from screaming, his head is aching, but he feels stronger now. His mind is still sorting through the wealth of knowledge he'd gained from the Sith Lord, it's an absolute mess inside him. It will probably be a while before he can access the bulk of them properly, perhaps through meditation.

A brief skim of the surface is enlightening however, the discovery that Sidious himself was not even properly following the Sith Code. Perhaps that was why the Jedi struggled to gain any ground against him. They'd been training to fight an enemy that had long mutated into something far more insidious. Perhaps much of what he'd long believed true about the Sith, were meaningless.

How much of the evil that he'd seen merely been Sidious’ evil, and not inherent to the Dark Side itself? The Sith Code reverberates through his mind, along with the disdain Sidious had borne for it, despite calling himself a Sith. It is because of that, that Obi-Wan finds a new appreciation for it.

Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.Through Passion, I gain Strength.Through Strength, I gain Power.Through Victory my chains are Broken.The Force shall free me.

Obi-One takes a deep breath. The air tastes different as he draws it in. Sweeter, lighter, the heavy cloud of the Dark Side no longer feels oppressive. Truly, he has never felt like this before. Blissful power and freedom. Yes, the Force has freed him indeed. Everything feels right now. He's free, free of doubt. Free to love Anakin the way he's always wanted to. The way he was always supposed to.

In contrast, the Jedi Code that he'd clung to now feels stifling.

There is no emotion, there is peace.There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.There is no passion, there is serenity.There is no chaos, there is harmony.There is no death, there is the Force.

His fellow Jedi's deaths were unfortunate, but perhaps also necessary. Necessary for him to be free. Obi-Wan has sworn to serve the Will of the Force. If this is its Will, perhaps he should not linger in grief, perhaps he should let his sorrow go, make peace with his destiny, as the Jedi Code urges. After all, it is by the will of the Force that he is free. Now, he can be with his beloved boy. There is nothing holding him back anymore.

He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the silver on the walls.

His eyes are yellow, and the Force is silent, waiting.

He looks away.

He can pursue this train of thought later. Regardless of which philosophy is better suited to following the Will of the Force—Jedi or Sith—Obi-Wan has one objective, one duty as assigned by the Cosmic Force itself, and that is Anakin. He needs to find Anakin.

He has to stop Yoda, before the Master kills Anakin or turns him into a lonely broken man clad in black. Nothing else matters.

He runs through the halls, the senate is in an uproar over the newly crowned Emperor's death. He cuts down Mas Amedda and the Red Guards that the Senator leads to stop Obi-Wan's escape, and manages to steal a ship to leave, following the tracker he'd given Master Yoda.

Mustafar.

He prays he will make it there in time.

The air is dry. Arid and hot. Obi-Wan follows the tracking signal, and finds the closest landing platform of a large facility. There's already another ship there, Senator Amidala's star skiff, and on the floor near it lies the Senator herself, unconscious.

Obi-Wan rushes to her side and checks her pulse. She's still breathing. Thank the Force. She's carrying Anakin's child, and whether Amidala retains her loyalty to Anakin or not, he doesn't want any harm to come to the baby. He carries her inside the ship quickly, and has 3PO and R2-D2 stand guard over her while he races to save Anakin. He feels his boy nearby, follows their bond to him. Runs through the halls with fear snapping at his heels.

Is this what Anakin felt on a daily basis? Like his entire universe is on the line? Like insanity is one slight misstep away? No wonder his boy is always a mess.

He finds them fighting by the side of a pit of lava. A fear like no other lances through him when Yoda throws Anakin into a fixture and the boy crumples to the floor. Obi-Wan raises his saber and dives into Yoda's path, catching the falling green blade with his own.

Yoda's gaze is sad as he meets Obi-Wan's eyes through the sabers’ light. “A mistake I have made, leaving you alone with the Sith.”

“I'm sorry, Master.” Obi-Wan murmurs, pushing back against the small Jedi and Yoda flies backwards, landing on his feet and putting space between them. “But I cannot let you kill Anakin.”

“The boy you raised, gone he is.” Yoda shakes his head mournfully, his little ears lowered. “And now, so too are you.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan nods slowly. “I suppose to you, we are.”

Gone is the weak man who was too afraid of Falling, of losing his home, his place in the Order, his honour and piousness to the Jedi Code. There is no longer anything left to lose. Except Anakin. He will take Anakin back. Whatever he has to do. He will.

His eyes are open now, he can see that the Sith and Jedi are merely two sides of the same coin. Two interpretations of the same Force. That it is how it is used that determines good or evil. Why should he not use both to serve the will of the Force?

“Master?” He hears the sweetest sound from behind him and Obi-Wan glances back to see Anakin staring at him with wide and dazed eyes. They are yellow too.

Both their eyes had once been crystal clear blue, now they bear the same gold glow. Of course they are. Affection is gentle in his breast. The truth that Obi-Wan has long denied. That they were two halves of a whole, where one goes the other follows. That has been the case for more than a decade, and so it will always be.

“Anakin, I'm glad you're alright.” Obi-Wan smiles softly at him, before it lifts into a playful smirk. “Now then, are you just going to lie there and make me do all the work?”

A disbelieving grin spreads across Anakin's face, his eyes soft with wonder. For a moment, the boy looks as he once had, before the war. Bright and beautiful, the way he should always be.

Anakin calls his lightsaber to him and they fight together. While Master Yoda is powerful, he is not strong enough to defeat the two of them, not when they fight as one. Not when the Force sings with their unity. Not when they draw on emotions both Light and Dark in balance, both the joy and relief of reunion and the vengeful fury that rejects anything seeking to tear them apart.

The war has only made them stronger when in sync, the Hero With No Fear and the Negotiator. And together, they drive Yoda all the way back to the ship and the small green Jedi steals Obi-Wan's vessel to flee.

Exhausted from fighting Yoda till Obi-Wan's arrival, Anakin collapses to the floor, and Obi-Wan rushes to his side, taking the young man into his arms. “Anakin!”

“I'm– I'm alright.” Anakin murmurs faintly, stares at Obi-Wan through heavy-lidded and unfocused eyes, and reaches out to him with his left hand. The tips of his fingers brush Obi-Wan's chin and his voice is thick with disbelief. “Master you... you didn't betray me.”

“Never. I'm always on your side. I'm sorry, I should never have pushed you away. I was just–” Obi-Wan mutters, takes Anakin's hand, feels the warm flesh beneath his glove and places a kiss to the back of it. “I would never betray you.”

Anakin's glazed blue eyes search his own for several moments, disorientation and confusion ripples from him through the Force. Before he seems to find whatever he's looking for and he clutches Obi-Wan's hand tightly.

“Thank you, Master...” Anakin's eyes well with tears. “But– but she did, Padme... she brought Yoda here. She brought him here to kill me.”

Anakin sobs with agony, and Obi-Wan cradles his boy to his chest, cooing to him softly. Obi-Wan's jaw is tight, and his eyes burn with rage. He'd given way to her, let the Senator have Anakin, and that woman had failed to love Anakin as much as he did. He knew it, politicians were never to be trusted. If she weren't round with Anakin's child, he would kill her for this treachery.

The thought gives him pause, kill... he supposes this came with falling to the Dark Side. He no longer instinctively baulks at the thought of killing for a personal slight. He feels like he should be more concerned about that than he is. Instead, any discomfort is buried under the joy of having Anakin safe in his arms.

Obi-Wan is still unsure where he stands, a Sith or a Jedi or neither. He shakes his head, such matters should perhaps be left for later thought, they have more pressing concerns to worry about at the moment.

For starters, where will he go now? He has Anakin, and Senator Amidala. What next? For once, he hadn't planned very far ahead. Anakin had consumed all his thoughts.

He feels Anakin go limp in his arms and Obi-Wan places a soft kiss on his forehead. Gently, he scoops the boy into his arms, cradles his precious cargo against his chest, and carries him into the Nabooian transport.

“Oh, Master Kenobi!” 3PO calls out with some relief as Obi-Wan sets Anakin down on one of the seats. “Miss Padme seems to be going into labour!”

Obi-Wan sighs tiredly, shoulders sagging and body aching, there's always something.

He glances at R2-D2, the shorter droid whirring at Anakin's unconscious body with concern, it's always been more emotional than any droid he's ever known. Perhaps Anakin's power extended to granting sentience on top of creating love and devotion in everything he touched.

“He'll be alright.” He pats the droid on the head comfortingly and it beeps at him. “R2-D2, chart a course for Tatooine and prepare the Hyperdrive. 3PO, take the controls while I check on Amidala.”

For now, the outer rim was probably the safest place to go, what with the clones still out for Obi-Wan's blood. Perhaps they could seek aid for Amidala's labour from Anakin's stepbrother.

Leaving the droids to it, Obi-Wan goes to see Amidala. She lies on the small bed, covered in sweat, and her tired face lightens with relief when she sees Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan.” She reaches a hand out to him, and he takes it gently. “You're alive, I was so worried...”

“I'm sure you were.” Obi-Wan smiles thinly and brushes a hand over her damp forehead, it wouldn't do to endanger the child by putting her under any further stress. “Don't worry, you're safe. Just focus on the baby.”

She doesn't even manage a smile, closing her eyes as he returns to the cockpit.

It takes some time to get to Tatooine, and Obi-Wan collapses into a pilot seat, taking the opportunity to recover his strength. Fortunately, when they arrive, Owen, and his wife Beru, recognise Amidala and agree to help. Obi-Wan assists them as much as he can, asks Owen for materials and cobbles together a makeshift crib with R2-D2's help, welding metal strips together. Takes rubber and a pair of bottles and fashions two rudimentary baby bottles in preparation for the child.

It's strange, he notes—somewhere in the back of his mind—that after war, betrayal and treason, he's ended up here. On Anakin's home planet, the place where his destiny was born. Cutting rubber with the edge of a vibroblade in a stranger's home. The house that Anakin might have become a free man in, if Obi-Wan and Master Qui-Gon hadn't spirited him away.

He wonders if Shmi regretted allowing his Master to take Anakin. But even if she had, Obi-Wan would never have given her son back. Anakin is his.

When the preparations for the child are complete, Obi-Wan leaves Amidala in the care of the couple and goes to attend to Anakin, carrying the boy to the small side building that Owen had offered the men to stay in. He gathers several stacks of cloth together, and a blanket, into a makeshift bed on the floor, and tends to Anakin's burns. To his relief and pride, Anakin's injuries are relatively minor, considering that he had been fighting Master Yoda for hours.

When he's done treating his own injuries as well, Obi-Wan returns to Amidala's side to find that she is having twins and that she is dying. He still can't quite work up any grief or bring himself to care very much about the latter, but he takes the time to assure her that her children will be taken care of.

He supposes she does still love Anakin, because she says that there's still good in him as she breathes her last. As though Obi-Wan would need any convincing of that. Perhaps he had been hasty when assuming that she had indeed betrayed Anakin? Maybe Master Yoda had given her the impression that he was planning to arrest Anakin rather than murder him?

Either way, Obi-Wan is grudgingly grateful to her for making Anakin happy for the last four years—he caresses the cheek of a chubby baby girl—and for giving Anakin these beautiful children. He knows Anakin will need something to cultivate after her death, and his children would be solace to his beloved.

Though he does hope that Anakin will cling to him too for comfort, and from the boy's behaviour before passing out, Obi-Wan is optimistic.

Obi-Wan insists that Beru allow him to feed the children, holding one in each arm as he uses the Force to lift the bottles—of nutrient powder from the star kriff, hastily mixed in water—for them to suckle from. He's now glad that he'd made two bottles, in anticipation of rotating between them for one child.

As he rocks the twins gently to sleep, he feels Anakin begin to stir from his fitful rest. So, Obi-Wan leaves the twins to sleep in the crib, swaddled in cloth. Sets 3PO and R2-D2 to stand guard and ensure that they come to no harm, and quickly returns to Anakin's side.

He finds the boy sitting up on the floor bed, his inner robe pooled around his hips and bandages wrapped around his arms and side, anxiety thrumming through the Force. Their bond has always been stronger than the average Master and Padawan's—one normally born of familiarity—and he'd thought this was thanks to Anakin's immense power. But somehow, it feels like it has actually grown stronger since Obi-Wan accepted his attachment to the boy.

“Master, where is Padme?” Anakin asks, sounding quite disoriented. “Is she safe? Is she alright?”

“Anakin...” Obi-Wan sighs as he sits on the edge of the bed. Even after she broke his heart, the boy still loves her so deeply, and as little as Obi-Wan now cares for the woman, he hates to break his beloved's heart. “I am so sorry, dear one. But she passed away in childbirth.”

Anakin's face crumbles, despair floods their bond, painful enough to bring tears to Obi-Wan's own eyes. The boy reaches out to clutch at his sleeve, pleading. “No, that can't be–”

“Your children are safe and well.” Obi-Wan interrupts, hoping to stem the flow and halt his spiral.

“Children?” It works, Anakin stops momentarily in confusion.

“Yes, you have twins, my dear.” Obi-Wan brushes back the long curly locks that hang over Anakin's face. “A boy and a girl, they are beautiful.”

“Twins...” For a moment, Anakin's eyes are wide with wonder, but then distress returns. “They– they'll need their mother. Please, we have to go find my Maste–”

Obi-Wan snarls at that, and his hand shoots forward to grip Anakin's chin sharply. The boy freezes, and his cold voice feels foreign to even his own ears. “You have only one Master, Anakin. And that is me. You were my Padawan, my apprentice. Nobody else's.”

It's so much worse to hear Anakin call Sidious his Master in person. Obi-Wan almost wishes he could bring the audacious filth back to life just to kill him again.

Anakin shivers at his tone, and he stares into Obi-Wan's eyes as though seeing him for the first time. “Master, you also? Your eyes–”

Had they gone yellow? Curious.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan murmurs, loosens his grip, traces his thumb over Anakin's jaw, feeling the beginnings of stubble peeking out of his soft skin. “If you must have a Sith for a Master, that will still be me. Always me.”

Anakin's eyes go hazy at the possessive desire that must be creeping along their bond, his boyish cheeks flush and his lips part to release a hot breath. To his pleasure, Obi-Wan can feel Anakin's shock, his confusion, his delight, and... his arousal.

“But– but Master, Palpatine is the only one who knows how to create life.” Anakin protests weakly, blinking as though to dispel the effects of whatever he was feeling.

“What do you think you did with your children?” Obi-Wan snorts.

Anakin rolls his eyes. “You know what I mea–”

“If you think he can bring the dead back to life, then I haven't taught you well enough.” Obi-Wan chuckles darkly. “I see I must find a way to work that naïveté out of you.”

Anakin's neck goes red with indignation, and he jerks his chin from Obi-Wan's grip. “I don't need another lecture.”

The boy bites his lip—and Obi-Wan wants to do that for him—saying, “He knows things, Master. He knew about my visions of Padme's death.”

“And I didn't lend enough stock to your visions, does that mean I can never be correct?” Obi-Wan cocks an eyebrow. “Just because he was able to peer into your mind, doesn't mean he wasn't lying about everything else. He didn't even claim to have the ability to save her yet, do you really think he would have been able to figure it out with you before she gave birth?”

“It's worth trying!” Anakin exclaims desperately. “Please, Obi-Wan, I can't raise my children alone. I need her, they need her!”

“Oh, my dear. You wouldn't be alone. I would gladly raise your children with you.” Obi-Wan murmurs and is delighted when the receding flush returns to Anakin's cheeks again. “And I'm afraid that isn't an option regardless. Darth Sidious is dead.”

Anakin's eyes go wide. “Wha– how!? Who?”

“Who do you think, my dear?” Obi-Wan askes with some amusement, places his hands on Anakin's shoulders and presses the boy back onto the bed, sliding a knee between his legs.

“You? Master, you defeated the Sith Lord, alone? And his guard? Even four of the Council Masters weren't enough to–” Anakin gapes, and the awe radiating from him is intoxicating, heady and delicious.

“I assure you, Anakin. I am stronger now, strong enough to protect you. To protect our children.” Obi-Wan purrs, braces his hands by Anakin's head and leans close enough to feel his heated breath against his lips. “I consumed the Chancellor's mind. Took for myself, his knowledge and his power. You don't need him or Senator Amidala, and neither do our children. I will provide everything you need.”

Anakin knots his fingers in his clothing as Obi-Wan nuzzles his nose against the boy's cheek, murmuring softly. “You can be their loving mother, and I will be the guiding father. You were raised by a loving mother, you can do it too, dearest. I believe in you. I've always believed in you.”

A soft keen escapes Anakin's throat, and when Obi-Wan lifts his head to gaze into deep blue, he sees that they are damp with tears. “Even– even after everything I've done? Fail– failed to be a great Jedi– failed you...”

“You could never fail me, my dear.” Obi-Wan breathes, catches with his thumb, a shining drop from the corner of his eye. “My love for you has never been conditional. I would follow you down any path, no matter what.”

He feels something inside Anakin shatter, a swell of emotions too powerful to name pours through their bond like a torrent, a raging river, as though the entire galaxy had changed inside the boy's heart. As though a vast weight, an expectation of himself that he's been carrying for years, has finally been cast down.

“Obi-Wan–” Anakin whines, need and longing, desire and hope, all condensed into that one word.

It makes his heart ache, and he finally gives in to the urge to claim the beautiful boy's lips. They are sweet against his own, delicious and soft. Everything he's craved for the last six years. He slips his tongue inside to caress Anakin's, feels the boy moan into his mouth, and his burning desire becomes an inferno.

He licks into that hot cavern with relish, savouring the forbidden fruit he has long abstained from, taking his time and stealing Anakin's breath, before parting to grant him air. Obi-Wan trails his lips down the boy's jaw as he pants and tears at Obi-Wan's robes.

“Master...” Anakin moans breathlessly, ruts against his knee, desperately grinding his hardness against him. “I thought– I thought you didn't want me–”

“Of course I do. How could I not?” Obi-Wan murmurs against that slender throat, mouthing at the boy's voice box. “Shouldn't have pushed you away when you kissed me.”

“Thought you were disgusted–” Anakin gasps as Obi-Wan presses a finger into a bruise on his ribs.

“Only with myself. For wanting to hold you. You were fifteen, my dear.” Obi-Wan nibbles lightly, runs a hand over that wonderfully muscled chest. “And drunk. I was trying to be a good Master.”

“Didn't want you to be good–” Anakin swallows thickly, and his throat flexes deliciously under Obi-Wan's lips. “Wanted you so bad–”

“I did too.” He breathes, and digs his teeth into the golden skin on Anakin's bare shoulder, enjoying the way the boy bucks and moans against him. So perfect. “Dreamt of you every night since then, dreamt of touching you. Making you cry out for me. Force knows how guilty I felt, how frustrated I was at you for being so gorgeous. A siren sent by the Dark Side to seduce me.”

Anakin's breath catches when Obi-Wan takes a nipple into his mouth. Chokes out a moan when Obi-Wan laves his tongue over the hard pebble and suckles on it, like he thinks he can get the young man to lactate for his children.

“Then– then what–” Anakin whimpers when Obi-Wan's teeth clamp down around his areola. “What are you waiting for–”

“Patience, my dear.” Obi-Wan coos, taking the other nipple between his lips. His beard rubs against Anakin's chest as he gives it equal attention, he wants to leave abrasion burns all over his boy.

“Obi-Wan–” Anakin groans, his voice choked with pleasure and frustration, and then the young man is grabbing him firmly by the shoulders and pushing him back. Obi-Wan's lips make a wet pop as they are peeled off his lovely tits and Anakin glares at him. “For Force's sake, you've made me wait for years. Made me settle for the love of a woman I barely knew.”

He yanks hard at Obi-Wan's robes, loosening them enough to reach into his undergarments, and Anakin grasps Obi-Wan's aching cock with a growl. “So, stop teasing and start kriffing me, right now.”

Arousal pulses through Obi-Wan's body, and he bites back a moan, feeling the boy's thumb rub over his swollen tip. So much for foreplay, he should have known his boy wouldn't have the patience to be unwrapped slowly and worshipped, showered with love. Anakin really would be the death of him. Or at least his restraint.

Obi-Wan stands to remove his clothing, enjoying the way Anakin's eyes scrape down his skin as it's revealed. Watching with equal intensity as the young man removes his pants, tosses his robes aside, and spreads his legs in clear invitation.

What a glorious sight, his Anakin laid out like an offering on an altar. Obi-Wan thinks this is what a God feels like.

Such a vision was surely not something Jedi Master Kenobi would have ever gotten to see. No, this is perhaps something that only a Sith could look upon without shuddering in horror at such depravity. Without recoiling at the knowledge that this was the boy he'd raised, the child Master Qui-Gon had entrusted to him. The little boy who'd clung to him in the night, desperately afraid of losing him.

He kneels between Anakin's knees, runs his fingers along his inner thighs. He's beautiful. Kiss reddened lips, covered in his bites and bruises, a flush on his cheeks and nape, eyes filled with desire. Long gangly limbs that had filled out over the years, cock hard and swollen, pretty pink head peeking out from his foreskin, leaking little pearls of fluid from the tip. Obi-Wan collects that precious dew on the tip of his finger and places it on his tongue, delighted when Anakin keens.

Then he uses the Force to call a sachet of bacta from his waist pouch as he dips his head to take Anakin's cock into his mouth, the sounds the boy makes are music to his ears. The most lavish orchestra, unparalleled by the greatest artists money could buy. The heat and hunger in Anakin’s eyes as his boy watches him is unbearable. He pauses only to rip open the packet and squeeze some bacta onto his fingers, before returning his attention to Anakin.

The length in his mouth twitches when he sinks a finger into Anakin's puckered entrance, who groans as Obi-Wan searches the tight and hot channel. A moment later, Anakin jolts and his back arches, bucking deep into Obi-Wan's throat with a gasp. His head is thrown back and moans of pleasure fall from his lips, his hips stuttering as though unable to decide if he wants to kriff Obi-Wan's throat or press back against his finger more.

Obi-Wan adds another, strokes his fingers in and out, thinks of how he's going to be doing this with his cock in a few minutes, drags the tips of his fingers over the sensitive strip along Anakin's inner walls.

“Master–” Anakin claws at the blankets beneath him, sweat pools in the dips of his smooth chest when a third finger is added, and he shakes his head with a whine. “I can't– I'm going to–”

Obi-Wan doesn't stop, doesn't slow down, just keeps kriffing the beautiful boy with his fingers, watching intently, the mounting ecstasy on Anakin's face. He wants to see his proud boy come apart at his hand.

As though in response to his desire, Anakin moans, loud and shameless, his neck tightens, his toes curl and Obi-Wan's throat fills with fluid. He swallows quickly around the pulsing cock and with a last shudder, Anakin goes limp on the bedding, panting and gasping for air.

Obi-Wan allows the softening length to slip from his mouth, brushes away the wetness from his lips and beard, and admires the view. His child is gorgeous, broad shoulders trembling as he heaves for air, blue eyes hazy with pleasure. Had Amidala seen his boy like this? Obi-Wan pushes the thought away with a growl. This is his now, his reward for years of caregiving, patience, and frustration. He's never needed a reward for loving Anakin, but now he craves it desperately, hungers for it. Unbearable. It's unbearable.

He withdraws his fingers from the boy's body, calls the bacta sachet back to him and coats his aching erection with the oily liquid. He's waited for so long, he can't wait any longer, so he presses the head of it against Anakin's relaxed opening and hooks those long muscular legs over his shoulders. He groans low and deep as his cock is enveloped in wet heat, shuddering at the tightness, and the boy's insides spasm around him.

“Wait, Master–” Anakin rewards him with a strangled moan, shaking his head. “Too much– I can't–”

Obi-Wan leans down, practically folds the boy in half and sinks even deeper, making Anakin choke on air as he's filled. The boy is trembling when they're fully joined. He places a kiss on the corner of that gasping mouth and hisses lovingly into his ear. “You can, and you will.”

Anakin moans loudly and clings to his shoulders, eyes glazing over with heat and desire. Releasing a needy whine as Obi-Wan draws back out, pleased to see that there is no blood or signs of injury, as he thrusts back inside again. The boy wails at the overstimulation, his limp cock gradually hardening again as Obi-Wan pumps his hips relentlessly into him.

He can still barely believe that he's finally taking what has been his all this time. Could almost believe that he is simply dreaming, if not for how incredible it feels, nothing like his fumbling clumsy trysts with Satine as a fifteen-year-old Padawan. Anakin's body feels like it was made for him, that tight hole suckling on him as he ruts in, wanting to embed himself inside forever.

It's perfect, he's perfect. Obi-Wan groans as he lowers his gaze from Anakin's panting mouth, takes in the obscene sight of his cock ramming into his opening, the bacta oozing out around his reddening rim. “Look at you. Such a good boy, taking me so well. My dearest, Anakin.”

“Master–” Anakin wails and rakes his nails down Obi-Wan's shoulders. He can feel how much his words have affected his beloved, Anakin's side of their bond is a chaotic avalanche of sensation and emotion. Perfect.

His Anakin was always meant to be like this, wasn't he? Obi-Wan had spent years trying to train it out of him, but Anakin has always been a storm of passion and love. Something that had both inspired admiration and fear within Obi-Wan. Fear of losing his wonderful child to darkness. Fear that Anakin becoming a Sith—as he was always so clearly meant to be—would take Anakin from his side.

But, now that Obi-Wan no longer fears the Dark Side, sees that passion is only dangerous when warped and twisted, by someone like Sidious. Now that he no longer believes that these powerful emotions will cost him the person he loves most, Obi-Wan is free to admire Anakin's beauty. To watch with adoration and desire as Anakin writhes beneath him, firm muscles tight and unrestrained ecstasy pouring from his presence in the Force.

To behold his perfect child lost in the throes of bliss.

Drool trickles from the corner of Anakin's slack mouth, his deep blue eyes, dilated and glassy, gasping desperately for air as though he's drowning. Anakin looks like he's losing his mind, and Obi-Wan feels like he is not far behind. Force, he loves this boy, has wanted him more than anything, and now that he has him, Obi-Wan will do anything to keep him.

“My Padawan, my boy, my apprentice, my love.” Obi-Wan breathes in awe, in reverence and adoration. “My little Sithling.”

Anakin only moans weakly in response, sweat covers his brow, and his watery blue eyes struggle to focus on him as Obi-Wan rocks into him ruthlessly, finally indulging in his desires, taking everything he's ever coveted.

With a wave of his hand, he takes the boy by his ankles and raises them into the air with the Force, holding them in place. The new angle allows him to sink even deeper, forcing a punched out sound from the boy as he reaches between their bodies to grasp Anakin's bouncing cock.

“You are mine, Anakin. As I am yours.” Obi-Wan smiles down at him, stroking that swollen and sensitive length slowly, lovingly, contrasting with the pace at which his cock continues to drive into Anakin's body. “You will only ever attain this pleasure from me now. Understood?”

Anakin nods drunkenly, tears at the blankets beneath him, his tongue hangs out like he's trying to swallow the air, his words slur together like he's forgotten how to use it properly. “Y– yes, Mast– Master... please–”

Obi-Wan's grin widens and quickens his strokes to match his thrusts. Within seconds, Anakin releases another wail, his spend spurts onto his own abdomen in thick globs and his insides clamp down on Obi-Wan's cock.

He kriffs Anakin through it, savouring the sensation, the echoing explosion of pleasure through their bond. It takes everything in his power not to come from it. Obi-Wan doesn't want to stop. He can only have Anakin for the first time once and it feels too good to just end like this.

But then Anakin gives him an exhausted smile, a beautiful, pure smile—like the ones he'd worn as a child, before his obsession with Amidala, before the war, before all his smiles became permanently shadowed by weariness, bitterness, and pain—and whispers faintly. “L– love you, Obi-Wan...”

That's all it takes.

Obi-Wan buries himself inside and his control slips, dropping Anakin's ankles back onto his shoulders as his entire being becomes doused—absolutely drenched—in ecstasy. It seers through his body. He paints Anakin's insides white and gasps for air, kriffing his seed deeper with stuttering thrusts. Such a good boy, granting him so perfect a first claiming.

The pulses of pleasure ripple through him for a blissful eternity, before they begin to calm, as all good things that must sadly come to an end. Obi-Wan heaves for air as he lowers Anakin's legs to the blanket and braces his hands by the boy's head for a moment to collect himself. Anakin's eyes are closed, and Obi-Wan presses a sweet kiss to his damp forehead.

Then he leans back and lets his softening cock slip out, a trickle of pale fluid oozes out with it and something in him purrs with satisfaction at the depraved sight.

Once he has caught his breath, Obi-Wan uses his undergarments to clean the mess from Anakin's stomach and bottom. Then he lies down beside him and holds his boy close, pleased when Anakin stirs shortly and eagerly wraps himself around Obi-Wan. The young man hooks a leg over his, and nuzzles his flushed cheek into the light auburn strands covering Obi-Wan's chest with a contented sigh.

The moment is quiet and peaceful, basking in the warm afterglow while he, and presumably Anakin, sort through their thoughts.

Obi-Wan runs his fingers idly through soft brown curls. He'd meant it when he said he would take care of Anakin and his children. But in all honesty, he still isn't certain what their next move should be.

The Senate is likely a warzone now. Palpatine had just consolidated all the power in the Republic under himself, and now he's dead. The power vacuum would likely incite the most powerful members of the senate to attempt to seize control of the newly created—and vacated—Emperor's throne. Would the clone troopers follow whomever won?

He thinks of Cody, his men. He knows what they are. Slaves. He always tried not to think of it, like his fellow Jedi. They hadn't had much choice, the best they could do was be good slavers. Treat their men as well as they could. What would happen to them under other Masters? Does he care? They'd betrayed him, Cody tried to kill him. Anger simmers in his heart.

“I'm sorry, Master.” Anakin murmurs softly, interrupting his thoughts. “For giving in to Palpatine. For killing the younglings.”

It gives him pause, perhaps his boy had felt his sense of betrayal and thought it was of Anakin's deeds. Which it wasn't, but it did make Obi-Wan reconsider his anger. Perhaps Cody hadn't had much choice, perhaps he had been manipulated into it, like Anakin had been.

Even if he would be regarded as a Sith now, Obi-Wan still sees little sense in acting impulsively without first seeking the necessary information to make objective decisions. After all, Padme had been more loyal to Anakin than he'd first assumed based on Anakin's words.

Perhaps being guided by strong emotions may not be as bad as he'd been taught to believe. But the Jedi's preference for caution and reason had won him victory enough times that he feels it foolish to simply discard everything he had learnt from them and jump to the other extreme. As tempting as that may be.

So, though he feels Anakin's fear, Obi-Wan resists both the ingrained reflex of offering up a quote of ancient wisdom, and the instinctual protective urge to grant immediate comfort and absolution.

Instead, he takes the time to consider his response, what he personally feels, what he knows, and what Anakin needs. He takes a quick glance through some of the memories—and thoughts of Anakin—that he'd acquired from Sidious’ mind. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing, not here, not now, not when it matters so. There will be a time for casual light-heartedness to return to their relationship.

“Good. You should be.” Obi-Wan eventually answers, and he can feel Anakin flinch, before he presses a kiss to the boy's hair. “But I do not blame you for falling to his manipulation. You are young and Darth Sidious used your kindness against you from start to finish, systematically breaking down your mind until the easiest option was to obey. To let someone else do the thinking for you.”

He can feel Anakin's confusion and smiles sadly. “First, he used your need for the affection that I was too afraid to give you. Then your love for Padme and your proximity to him to isolate you from the Jedi. Then he made himself look helpless in front of you, used your instinct to protect the weak to get you to attack Master Windu in his defence. That was the first break.”

Anakin nods slowly, clutches at him like he would as a child after a nightmare.

“I was tired, so tired. Trying to decide what to do. Then being forced to wait in the Council chambers for hours. When he killed Master Windu because I–” He swallows and takes a shuddering breath. “...I just wanted it to all stop. To stop thinking. Stop feeling. To rest.”

“You shouldn't have been left alone, I'm so sorry, my love.” Obi-Wan caresses his face gently, is pleased to see Anakin's eyes soften at the term of endearment. “That's why he revealed his identity to you then, while I was away. When I couldn't be there for you. I shouldn't have left.”

“I wish you'd been there.” Anakin murmurs. “Even if we had been arguing, it would have been less painful and exhausting than arguing in circles with myself.”

“Exactly. And then while you were tired, he had you do something that you could never forgive yourself for. Something to break your self-image.” Obi-Wan closes his eyes for a moment, even now, this is something he too must come to accept. “We both know he could easily have killed a handful of children on his own or with the clones. He did it to make you feel unredeemable. Unforgivable. To the point where being offered forgiveness would cause you pain.”

Anakin smiles wryly. “Is that why you're not offering forgiveness for the younglings?”

“Correct, clever one.” Obi-Wan taps him lightly on the nose. “I will offer you forgiveness for breaking my heart and taking my younger brothers and sisters from me. But for the act itself, the ones you need forgiveness from... are the dead, and they cannot give it. So, it is you who must forgive yourself. That is a pain I have not the ability to relieve you of.”

Anakin remains silent. And Obi-Wan allows him the space to think. He knows the boy has never enjoyed his lectures, but he feels a curious new willingness to listen. Is it because he stopped pushing Anakin away? Obi-Wan swallows a snort, what irony. That his boy would only listen to him after he lost the need to lecture him quite so harshly.

After the burden of being the Master of the Chosen One, of being a member of the Council, of being a good Jedi while honouring Master Qui-Gon's wishes. After everything he's carried for more than a decade has been laid down to rest. When he is free to be kind and indulgent towards his former Padawan simply for the sake of it. Because he loves Anakin.

“What will we do now, Master?” Anakin finally asks and Obi-Wan hums, accepting the change of topic. There was no need to rush his emotional recovery.

“I'm not sure.” Obi-Wan admits, stroking a hand over his beard. “We could stay here, hide from whomever takes power in the senate. A new war could start.”

Anakin bites his lip and shakes his head. “I don't want my children to grow up here. Tatooine is... this place... The desert only takes.”

Obi-Wan's eyes narrow, there's something that Anakin is hiding from him. He can feel it through their bond, simmering under the surface, a cautious hope that Anakin can share this secret with Obi-Wan, now that they are Sith. Is this something his boy had shared with Sidious? Envy coils in Obi-Wan's stomach, he could look, could search Sidious’ memories for it.

But he doesn't. That wouldn't be real. He wants to hear this secret from Anakin, as a show of trust.

“What is it?” Obi-Wan asks, tracing a thumb over Anakin's lower lip. “What are you keeping from me?”

Anakin swallows and shakes his head. “I'll– I'll tell you later. When we have time. It's... it's not important right now.”

He's not particularly pleased with the response, but he can feel Anakin's pain and that the boy is being honest, so Obi-Wan lets it go. For now.

“I think we should go back to the Repub– Empire.” Anakin says instead.

“I should hope you recall that the clone troopers have orders to kill me on sight.” Obi-Wan drawls dryly.

“Palpatine made me his apprentice, his second in command.” Anakin states. “Now that he's dead, the clones should obey my orders. If we return quickly enough, before they crown a new Emperor, we can take over and rule the galaxy. Make things the way we want them to be.”

“Now why would we want to do that?” Obi-Wan asks, raising a sceptical eyebrow. “Are you not tired of war?”

“I am.” Anakin admits. “But I want my children to grow up in a peaceful galaxy. I want to give them everything.”

“Being the children of the Emperors will take freedom from them.” Obi-Wan warns. “They will need constant protection, they will never have equal peers or a regular childhood.”

“And they would here?” The boy scoffs, an ugly sneer darkening his face. “On a backwater planet with no water. With slavery, raiders, gangs and crime? Under Hutt control. Where the sick creature could seek to make a pleasure slave of my daughter and nobody would lift a finger to stop it.”

Obi-Wan sighs and strokes his beard, Anakin had a point. Tatooine isn't a good place to raise children either. They would still be isolated and in constant danger of dying to something banal like the weather. At least as political hostages, their children would be valuable and have the chance of ransom or negotiation.

“Besides, they will likely be Force Sensitive. We both know this.” Anakin shakes his head. “I'd rather we be able to give them every material luxury they may need. A stable planet like Coruscant, with the Jedi Archives, schools, parks, and all the karking water they need.”

Obi-Wan gazes at Anakin's worn face and sighs again. “If we go back, we will never be free. We will spend the rest of our days at war.”

“They're worth it.” Anakin declares, before hesitating and giving him an uncertain look. “I– I hope we are... to you.”

The furrow between Obi-Wan's brows eases and he strokes a hand over Anakin's hair comfortingly. “Of course. You are worth everything to me. My life, my morals. Everything.”

Relief is plain on Anakin's face and joy sings through their bond as Obi-Wan lifts his hand from his chest and presses a kiss to the warm skin of his bare knuckles. “You are mine, which makes your children mine as well.”

“Are you proposing, Master?” Anakin asks with some amusement.

“If you wish.” Obi-Wan chuckles. “We are not Jedi any longer, not that that stopped you.”

Anakin gives him a sheepish grin, before asking tentatively. “Why did you let me be with Padme, when you felt this way about me?”

“Because she made you happy. I foolishly thought at the time that it was better for you to love her. That it was alcohol and fear of abandonment that made you desire me.” Obi-Wan explains with some irony.

Anakin snorts, his voice dry and bitter. “Could've just asked me what I thought.”

“There were many things I could have done.” Obi-Wan murmurs, brushing his fingers through the boy's damp brown strands.

“Like kriff my fifteen-year-old ass?” Anakin offers him a boyish grin.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, but can't help smiling fondly when his boy nuzzles happily against him.

He's lost so much in the last few rotations. His brethren and his friends. Fought and killed the Sith Lord, acquired both new power and Anakin, lost the respect of Master Yoda, gained a pair of children. Obi-Wan knows he'll feel the true brunt of all this in time, but for now, he's just grateful that he has a new meaning and purpose. That he hasn't lost everything there is to live for.

He holds Anakin close, covers them with a blanket, and allows the exhaustion of this whole ordeal to carry him into rest.

Notes:

On the logistics of this fic's premise, I definitely cranked Obi-Wan's possessiveness over Anakin up, and did the impossible—making the security footage in the Chancellor office not only exist but also viewable from the Jedi Temple. But that's about it. I hope you can suspend disbelief for these unrealistic elements just so I can explore all the shit I wanna in this story OTL

Hear me out, if Obi-Wan wasn't the one who told Padme about the killed younglings, she wouldn't have already primed all of Anakin's insecurity and made him anticipate Obi-Wan's disapproval.

Padme also didn't know Obi-Wan was alive, so her first response to seeing him isn't to ask after Anakin's health, which makes Obi-Wan think she doesn't care about Anakin that much. He also misses how Anakin's anger can make him harm the very person he was so desperate to protect, so he doesn't get the impression that Anakin is lost. He doesn't see Anakin let his emotions control him or say "I understand" when Palpy's all "Obi-Wan's an enemy too", only sees Palpy manipulate him.

I like the theory that Sidious had wanted to use Essence Transfer to possess Anakin's body, but didn't in Canon because of Anakin's injuries. So, with an unexpected confrontation by an Obi-Wan leaking Darkness, and the idea that Obi-Wan's strength of will wouldn't be strong enough since he was such a stalwart Jedi yet he fell anyway (plus he's pretty powerful in the Force and would deteriorate slower) that makes his body an attractive candidate to Sidious.

Let's just say Sidious made a bad snap decision here, just like Yoda haha

Then the scene where Padme and Obi-Wan confront Anakin occurs, but with Yoda in Obi-Wan's place, and the scene where Anakin strangles Padme for "betraying him and bringing Yoda here to kill him" follows similarly. Anakin's fight with Yoda would not be as emotionally charged, so he'd be less reckless and, through pure Force power, be able to hold his ground against Yoda in a stalemate till Obi-Wan's arrival.

And thanks to all of that, butterfly effect, bam.

And, on the more character study side, I think Anakin's main source of fear and insecurity has always been that he'll make a mistake that causes him to lose those he loves. Whether it be them taken unwillingly from him through death or them discarding and abandoning him, leaving him to walk a lonely path. He fears having nobody to blame but himself, and ironically, that fear is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

It comes true when Padme says she cannot follow him down this path (and Obi-Wan in canon tries to kill him). A path he feels trapped on, unworthy of any other path, as Anakin says when bleeding his Kyber Crystal, all he can be is a Sith after everything he's done.

However, here Obi-Wan promises, and has in fact proven just by retaining loyalty to Anakin despite his actions, that he can and will follow Anakin down any path. This affords Anakin the security to risk changing his path. To endure the pain that comes with acknowledging a grave mistake he has made.

Ironically, it is when one is secure in the ones they love, that they can boldly face the prospect of self-improvement and progress despite the fear of failure.

Also, I think it's important to remember that in Anakin's experience, the systems he's seen have done jack shit to protect him or the ones he loves. Tatooine's hutts are a violent gang, the Republic didn't save him or his mother from slavery, it was Padme who later managed to liberate some slaves from Tatooine, but that was her own political efforts. The war showed him first-hand how fragile and limited the reach of the Republic is.

For someone who doesn't trust the system, who has been hurt by the failures of the system, there's a lot of paranoia and anxiety. That's why Anakin wants power and to be the one at the top, not out of hate or desire to subjugate others, but for the safety of his loved ones. Wanting one's family to be safe, is honestly just human and should not be treated as a bad thing. It's the system's fault for creating such paranoia. The solution is to improve the system.

Unfortunately for Anakin, he's attached to a politician, a Jedi and is the Chosen One. He can't just leave like Ahsoka.

Honestly, the people who say to Anakin, “with great power comes great responsibility, you got born with the Force, suck it up” are no different than the Nazis who said, “well, you're disabled and a waste of resources, so we are killing you, suck it up” or the slavers who say, “you're born a slave so suck it up”.

If someone (Jedi or otherwise) is ready to sacrifice their personal happiness for others that should be respected, I would admire and grieve for anyone strong enough in their beliefs to make that choice. But nobody should ever force or impose such expectations on someone who is unable to do so (like Anakin), any more than one should expect the blind to see.

[panerasbox]

These are just my personal headcanons of how the Abbott Elementary staff might react if someone came out to them after not being accepted by their family. It’s all fictional and based on how I interpret their characters, just a bit of comfort and softness inspired by the show! word count: 2,726.

Melissa Schemmenti

It’s after school. The halls are quiet, the kind of quiet that settles deep. You find Melissa in the lounge, nursing a cup of coffee like it’s her last line of defense.

She looks up when you walk in, eyes scanning your face.

“Hey. You good?” Her tone is casual, but her gaze is sharp. Watching.

You try to answer, but your voice cracks. You swallow hard.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

Melissa sets her cup down, already shifting in her seat like she knows what’s coming. “Course.”

You sit across from her, hands twisting in your lap. “I came out to my family this weekend. They…” Your voice wavers. “They didn’t take it well. Said some things I can’t unhear.”

Melissa’s eyes darken. Not in a shocked way, more like something ancient and protective flaring up behind them.

“Jesus,” she mutters. “I’m sorry, hon.”

You shrug, trying to brush it off, but your throat tightens again. “I just thought they’d try. You know?”

There’s a pause. Then the scrape of her chair as she stands and crosses to your side. She doesn’t make a big show of it. She just pulls up a chair next to you, rests a hand gently on your shoulder.

“Look. I don’t know your family, and I ain’t gonna say they’re monsters. But I do know this: anybody who can’t see you for exactly who you are? Doesn’t deserve the whole heart you’re offering them.”

Her hand squeezes once, firm and grounding.

“I’ve seen you here. Day in, day out. You’re good. You care. You show up. You’re exactly who you’re supposed to be.”

She leans back slightly, eyes softening even more. “That’s more family than some people ever get.”

You nod, lips pressed tight. You’re trying not to cry, but it’s leaking out anyway.

Melissa doesn’t comment. She just slides a tissue from her pocket (because of course she has tissues) and hands it to you.

Then: “I got a cousin who got disowned by his folks back in the ‘90s. He’s got a husband now, three rescue dogs, and a found family that would kill for him. You’re gonna find yours too.”

You breathe out, shaking a little. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me.” She leans in close, voice dropping just enough to feel like a secret. “Just know: this place? This weird little school? You got people here. You got me. And I don’t bail on my people.”

She sits back, like that’s settled. Like it’s obvious. And somehow, with her there beside you, it kind of is.

Ava Coleman

It’s late. You’re still in your classroom, lights low, papers scattered, but nothing’s getting done. There’s a tightness in your chest you can’t shake. You barely register the knock until the door creaks open.

Ava peeks her head in.

“You hiding in here, or just too lazy to clean that mess?”

You smile weakly, not even pretending to laugh. Ava’s eyes catch that fast. She steps in, the usual swagger in her step a little softened.

“Okay, that was a joke. You’re supposed to laugh. I give it a solid B plus.”

You look away. “Sorry. I’m just not really in the mood.”

That stops her. No comeback. No hair flip. Just quiet.

She crosses the room, perches on the edge of a desk like it’s a throne, and looks at you in that way only Ava does: like she sees everything and just chooses which part to mention.

“All right. Spill it.”

You hesitate. Then, quietly:

“I came out to my family. Over the weekend.” A breath. “They didn’t take it well.”

The air shifts. Ava’s brow furrows, not dramatic, not performative. Real.

“Damn,” she says, voice lower now. “That’s rough. I’m sorry.”

You give a hollow laugh. “They said it’s a phase. That I’m confused. That I just want attention.”

Ava tilts her head. “Oh, hell no.” She straightens up, arms crossed. “Let me guess: some cousin with a bad haircut and two ex wives thinks you’re the confused one?”

You laugh despite yourself. It slips out. Ava latches onto it immediately.

“There it is,” she grins, then softens. “Listen. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t break anything. You just told the truth. And if they can’t handle that? That’s their shortcoming. Not yours.”

You blink hard, trying to hold it in, but something cracks.

Ava doesn’t say anything for a second. Then she moves, surprising you, dropping into the chair beside yours, leaning in like this is just between the two of you.

“Let me make something crystal clear,” she says, her voice fierce but quiet. “You are not too much. You are not confused. You’re not looking for attention. But if you were? You deserve all of it. All the love, all the support, all the goddamn attention in the world.”

You look at her, tears slipping now.

“And until those people figure it out? You’ve got me.” She smirks. “And you know I don’t come cheap.”

You laugh again, tears still falling, and Ava reaches into her bag, pulls out a tissue pack that is, of course, leopard print.

She offers one, then adds:

“If you ever need a hype woman, a distraction, or someone to ‘accidentally’ send a petty group text? I’m your girl.”

You take the tissue. “Thanks, Ava.”

She bumps her shoulder into yours. “Always. And hey: next time someone tells you you’re too much? You tell ’em, ‘I’m Ava approved. Step your game up.’”

Janine Teagues

It’s right after school, and you find Janine still at her desk, grading papers, but she looks up when you enter, her face lighting up with that hopeful, nervous smile she always has when she thinks you might need her.

“Hey! Uh, you wanted to talk?” Her voice is soft, a little tentative, like she’s afraid she might say the wrong thing.

You take a deep breath, then blurt out,

“I came out to my family over the weekend and they didn’t really get it. They said some really hurtful things.”

Janine’s smile falters, eyes wide with sympathy. She leans forward, hands clasped tightly on the desk.

“Oh wow. I’m so sorry. That must’ve been really hard. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

You nod, blinking back tears.

“I just thought they’d try to understand.”

Janine frowns, searching for words.

“Sometimes people don’t know how to understand right away, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less valid or loved. You are so brave for being honest about who you are.”

She fidgets with a pen, then quickly shoves it aside like it’s no big deal.

“If you ever want to talk, or need someone to just listen, no judgment, promise, I’m here. Like, anytime. Even if it’s just to complain about the cafeteria food.”

You laugh softly, the tension easing a little.

Janine beams.

“And you know what? You’re part of our Abbott family, and that means you’re loved. For real.” She leans in, voice dropping to a gentle whisper. “We’re lucky to have you.”

You look at her, heart a little lighter.

“Thanks, Janine.”

She beams again, cheeks pink.

“Anytime. And hey, if you want, I can bake some rainbow cupcakes this week? Totally optional, but I think it’d be fun.”

Barbara Howard

It’s late afternoon, and the hum of the school is winding down. You find Barbara in the teacher’s lounge, sitting quietly with a stack of papers and a tired but patient expression. As you walk in, she looks up and offers a small, warm smile, her way of saying, “You’re welcome here.”

You take a deep breath and sit down across from her, voice low.

“I came out to my family this weekend and they didn’t take it well. Said some things I didn’t expect to hear, things that really hurt.”

Barbara’s face softens immediately, but she stays calm and steady, the kind of presence that makes you feel like you can breathe easier just by being near her.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. It’s hard when the people who should love you the most don’t understand, or don’t want to.”

She sets her pen down, folding her hands on the table like she’s ready to really listen.

“Family’s complicated. Sometimes, the people we’re born to don’t see us for who we are. But that doesn’t change your worth. It doesn’t change the truth about you.”

You look down at your hands, twisting the ring on your finger. Barbara watches you with patient eyes.

“You know, I’ve seen a lot of kids and families over the years, good days and bad, and the ones who find their way are the ones who remember that family isn’t just blood. It’s the people who show up. Who accept you, no matter what.”

She gives you a quiet smile, not the kind that tries to fix everything, but the kind that says, “You’re not alone.”

“If you ever want to talk, or if you just need a quiet place to be yourself, this school, you, have a family here. I’m here. You don’t have to carry this all by yourself.”

You meet her steady gaze, and there’s something in it, a quiet strength, a promise.

“Thank you, Barbara. That means a lot.”

She nods, a little more firmly now.

“You’re strong. You’re brave. And you deserve to be seen for exactly who you are. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Barbara reaches into her bag, pulls out a small thermos, and offers it to you.

“Here. I made some tea. It’s chamomile, calming. I thought you might like it.”

You take the thermos, surprised but grateful. She shrugs lightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Sometimes, it’s the little things that help. And sometimes, it’s just knowing someone’s got your back.”

You breathe in the warm steam, and for the first time that day, the tightness in your chest eases.

Jacob Hill

You’re sitting outside on one of the old benches near the Abbott garden, picking at your lunch but not really eating. The air is still, and your thoughts are louder than you’d like. You don’t even realize someone’s approaching until you hear a familiar voice.

“Hey, mind if I join you?”

You look up. Jacob’s already halfway sitting down, brown bag lunch in hand and an unsure but hopeful expression on his face.

You shrug. “Sure.”

He plops down beside you, then hesitates before unwrapping his sandwich.

“Okay, so I know you’ve been kind of quiet today. And yesterday. And okay, for a little while now. I’m not trying to pry, but I’m also famously very bad at minding my business when people I care about seem down.”

You glance over at him. He offers a small, sincere smile.

“I’m fine,” you say quietly, but Jacob’s already tilting his head.

“You don’t have to be,” he says, softer this time. “I mean, I know what it’s like. Not the exact same thing, obviously. But I’ve had people look at me like I’m speaking another language when I talk about who I am. And it sucks. Like, deep down in your chest sucks.”

You sigh. “I came out to my family over the weekend. They didn’t get it. Didn’t want to get it.”

Jacob’s face falls.

“Oh. I’m so sorry. That’s…” He exhales hard. “That’s heartbreaking.”

You nod, not sure what else to say.

“I remember coming out to my mom,” Jacob says, eyes on the patchy grass ahead of you. “She tried, but her first response was, ‘Are you sure? Like, 100% sure?’ Like I was talking about a gym membership.”

You huff out a tired laugh.

“But seriously,” he goes on, turning toward you, “it hurts when people you love act like your truth is some kind of puzzle they have to solve instead of something they should just accept. And support. And celebrate, honestly.”

He pauses. “It’s okay if you’re mad. Or sad. Or both. Or whatever.”

You nod slowly, swallowing past the tight lump in your throat.

“I just thought they’d try harder.”

“Yeah.” Jacob’s voice drops to something gentler. “You shouldn’t have to earn your family’s love by being less of yourself.”

There’s silence for a moment. A breeze moves through the leaves. Then:

“Hey, not to brag,” Jacob says, suddenly brightening a little, “but I do happen to have a pretty excellent chosen family, and I think we’ve got room for one more. We meet here every day from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. and sometimes drink boxed wine in Janine’s classroom on Fridays.”

You laugh again, just a little. It feels good.

He grins. “And seriously, I’m here. If you ever want to talk, or vent, or just be somewhere you don’t have to explain yourself, I got you. I’ll even listen to your music without pretending I don’t like it. Which is, like, big for me.”

You smile, a little teary now. “Thanks, Jacob.”

He pats your arm, then quickly pulls back. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t ask if touch was okay. Do you want a hug or?”

You nod, and he gently wraps his arms around you, light, warm, completely non judgmental.

“You’re not alone,” he says into your shoulder. “Not here. Not ever.”

Gregory Eddie

You’re sitting alone in your classroom after dismissal. The lights are low, and the sun outside has that washed out golden tone that only makes the silence feel heavier. You don’t even notice Gregory leaning in through the open door until he knocks once on the frame.

“You heading out?” he asks gently.

You shake your head. “Just sitting.”

He nods once, then steps inside.

“You mind if I sit?”

You gesture toward the seat across from you. Gregory takes it quietly. His posture is relaxed but attentive, his eyes scanning your face like he’s reading something unspoken. He doesn’t force the silence to end. He just waits.

Finally, you murmur,

“I came out to my family this weekend. It didn’t go well.”

Gregory doesn’t flinch, doesn’t rush to respond. He just gives a slow nod.

“They said stuff that really hurt. Like I disappointed them.”

You blink quickly, trying to get ahead of the tears, but your voice cracks anyway.

“I thought they might not get it, but I didn’t think they’d look at me like I wasn’t theirs anymore.”

Gregory’s voice is soft when he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s simple, but sincere. He says it like he means it, not just to say something, but because he knows what that kind of hurt does.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says after a moment. “You told the truth about who you are. That’s not something to apologize for.”

You look at him, surprised by how clear and steady his words are.

“I know I’m not great at saying stuff like Janine or Jacob,” he adds, lips twitching faintly. “But I see you. And I’m glad you felt safe enough to share that.”

You nod, your throat tight.

Gregory leans forward just slightly, elbows on the desk, hands clasped.

“Sometimes people take time to catch up. Sometimes they never do. But either way, their confusion doesn’t get to decide your worth.”

You swallow hard. “It just hurts.”

“I know,” he says. “But you’re not alone. Not here.”

He taps the edge of your desk lightly, then looks up at you again.

“You need anything, break from your class, walk around the building, someone to sit with during lunch, you come find me.”

You laugh a little, watery. “You’re not exactly the big group hug type.”

He lets out a quiet huff of a smile.

“No. But I’m the ‘make sure you’re okay’ type.”

There’s something about the way he says it, plain, unadorned, that cuts right through the ache.

“Thanks, Gregory.”

He nods again, then stands up slowly.

“I’ll be around. Don’t disappear.”

As he walks to the door, he pauses, then looks over his shoulder.

“Oh, and if you ever want to do literally anything except talk about your feelings, I’ve got a busted irrigation system in the garden that could use a second pair of hands.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That your way of helping me process?”

“Hands stay busy, mind gets quiet,” he says, then shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

Then he’s gone, but it doesn’t feel like he left. Not really.

[imbadatusernames2]

I really debated with myself whether to post this, especially given tumblr's infamous photo quality, but oh well, I figured we're all nerds anyway, and someone will enjoy this.

Some thoughts and rambling under the cut if anyone is interested

I mainly just wanted to draw Arthur kneeling and John shielding him, to be honest.

Arthur (right hand) is clutching John's cloak; John (left hand) is clutching Arthur's shirt and trying to protect his stomach. This gave me a sense of contrast between what John could once do (a powerful king who could shield Arthur and no one would dare touch him) vs what he can do now (nothing but clutch at his shirt, no body to shield him with, only eyes wide open to see for him). I imagine this can make John feel very trapped and useless in the face of danger.

John's hand holding the cloak gave me a bit of a problem, bc the rest of his body is in black, but it wouldn't have stood out if it were dark as well. Then I got an idea, as I had already imagined he isn't actually a shadow monster, but rather, in a classical lovecraftian fashion, human minds couldn't comprehend him. But his left hand is the one he shares with Arthur, bringing it closer to humanity, and thus, making it possible to see and understand with human eyes, even in his king form.

Arthur is also kneeling on John's cloak, which gave me two ideas: First, I imagine that idling on top of a king's or a god's cloak isn't the most polite or respectful thing to do. So, this shows Arthur's general disrespect towards the supernatural. And also, while John might technically be an Eldritch God, he is Arthur's Little Eldritch God, so it doesn't matter. This is his John. Second, cushioning a kneeling person's knees feels kinda intimate, you know? Obviously, there is the sexual angle, which isn't what I'm getting at (my interpretation of their relationship is a very intense something), but our minds make connections. But in general, imagine how many people have knelt in direct worship of John, and how he didn't spare a thought towards them. And now here's this random human who would laugh at the idea of worshipping John, and he is the one who gets his god-damn knees cushioned. If I were a cultist, I would definitely detest Arthur for that.

I had lots of thoughts about John, and not so many about Arthur when drawing this, so he is mostly there to look pretty. This is actually the second version I made, bc in the 1st one I made a mistake I couldn't fix and had to start over. I'm kinda glad I did, bc in the 1st version, Arthur looked a bit too beaten down and helpless for my tastes. In this one, he looks up at the danger and is more ready to fight if the need arises. Bc he is the one who has to be ready. John might want to be all mighty and shield him as he once could have, but in reality, all he can do now is wrinkle Arthur's shirt and warn him of danger with the eyes he is the reason Arthur doesn't have any more :)

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

ok i do have one thing to get off my chest that has been uhhhh made more acutely irritating by bleak house discourse but preexists it and extends way beyond it. there's this really really really annoying thing that people do when they have like had their minds totally blown by someone telling them the most 101 basic ways to "critique" a study and/or its design, and also have been really (understandably i guess) activated by e.g. bad health journalism that loves to sensationalize or make unreasonable claims based on a single study, where now like... whenever they encounter any study (well not actually any study. any study whose conclusions they disagree with lmao), they immediately jump to LMAO LOOK AT THIS TINY ASS SAMPLE SIZE! THIS IS JUST ONE STUDY! CORRELATION IS NOT CAUSATION! CAN YOU BELIEVE THESE STUPID RESEARCHERS DID XYZ? NO CONTROL GROUP! NOT A RANDOMIZED EXPERIMENTAL TRIAL! I CAN'T BELIEVE THESE IDIOTS GOT THIS BULLSHIT PUBLISHED!

and like... is there a lot of dumb bullshit research published? sure, at least in some fields (replication crisis alert... but like i feel like the kids in materials science are probably doing better?) but the appropriate response to that is like... developing a nuanced framework in which any individual study is a single attempt to contribute to a larger body of knowledge that should be assessed in that context. it is not just looking at any finding that crosses your path and assuming (1) the researchers didn't understand or didn't care about the limitations of their study design and (2) any study "flaws" - which certainly any study in the social sciences or social-adjacent sciences will have because humans are complex - mean a study is totally worthless. that is, sorry, anti-intellectual. i don't think the people who do this consciously realize that they are, implicitly, arguing against the entire project of learning anything about human beings and their functioning ever... but they are. because there's no way to study human beings that is not flawed. if you throw out any study that is flawed, you throw out the whole endeavor. and, it would really shock some people to hear this, but at least some of the people who spend their entire lives researching human beings... know this. they know that learning about humans requires taking a lot of imperfect raw data and carefully considering how to interpret it. some of them actually do know this!!!! i promise!!!!! nobody better understands the fallibilities of statistics than a statistician. and yet, statisticians have not en masse abandoned their careers... they simply understand that what they're doing is complicated and never going to be perfect.

anyway. this is a major factor in why maintenance phase became totally unlistenable to me after a while... i simply could not take their ongoing "lmao, look at this dipshit researcher," especially since they are sooooooooo blatantly hypocritical about not holding up things they want to use in support of their own arguments to the same level of scrutiny. (one example that really made me insane... they had a whole episode about how 2000 calories a day is a random arbitrary number not reflective of human needs etc.... but then when they were doing an episode about some high-fiber fad diet aubrey was like "and the amount of fiber recommended was way higher than the FDA's [or whatever agency i'm not looking it up] recommended amount!!!!" oh... now we trust government recommendations? fuck off lmao) (i'm not simping for 2000 calories i just thought that was like sincerely quite egregious and made her look stupid as hell. to be clear michael also does this and it also makes him look stupid but i can't think of any michael examples because i haven't listened in years and this one was so transparent it's what stuck with me.) and like, it's annoying because it's annoying when people who aren't that smart act like they're way smarter than everyone else in the world, but it also matters because like... they tend to dismiss population studies out of hand because Too Many Factors, but population studies are what first pointed to the association between cigarettes and lung cancer - an association later investigated with other analytic tools, but for which, guess what, there has still never been a randomized control trial, because that would be evil. like, i'm sure that the lung researchers of the 1940s knew that correlation doesn't equal causation... but wow thank god they didn't follow that up with "so, basically this is probably worthless, nothing to see here"! assuming you know better than any study before you've even read it is literally anti-science and honestly not that far from how people wind up on the anti-vax train (including in the way that it rests on the assumption that it's probably pretty easy for the lay person to wade through statistical analysis in a specialized field and decide if it's good or not - no! it's not easy!). (cigarette history link)

this has been on my mind again with bleak house discourse because i have had to restrain myself about 1 million times from saying to someone, no fucking shit it's a single imperfect study, you sophomoric dickwad. i'm really not sure how you read that post, which was pretty measured in its appreciation of the study and also very explicitly drew on my firsthand professional experience, and assume that i need to be lectured to about taking every single word of a single small study as gospel... unless you are walking around the world smugly convinced that you are the first person in history to whom it has ever occurred to "question the design of a study" (as opposed to, say, take note of the pros and cons of the study design and think about what implications its limitations may have for interpreting its data and for future study). like... i have spent almost a decade thinking about these topics near-constantly... i would not describe myself as well-versed in the literature of ilteracy but i have DEFINITELY!!!! read more about it than any of these motherfuckers... but sure. i need some really big brained person to sit me down and explain to me that, omg, there were only 80 participants! why are you attacking all college students in america with such a Small Sample Size!!!! why would you have them talk out loud about the text they were reading? wouldn't it be better to have them answer questions at the end (which they did lol) or write their summaries (which would be complicated by the intersection with writing skills lol) or Some Other Imaginary Methodology That We All Definitely Would Accept As Valid Instead Of Also Instantly Condemning Because It Cannot Perfectly Capture Every Nuance Of Human Cognition? like of course one should [alec baldwin in glengarry glenn ross voice] always be critical. but parroting things you have learned sound like critical thinking isn't actually critical thinking. and drawing a hard binary between "true" and "false" in a realm of research that is much more complicated than that... is not critical thinking. it actually is just making it impossible for anyone to say anything about the topic ever lol.

and again... is this really personally annoying for Me, Personally? yes. yes it is. do i find it a really astonishingly unattractive personality trait? oh yeah. big time. but! this matters, in this case, beyond me being a hater, because, like, that thing i said above, about how all human-related studies are inherently always going to be flawed? that goes about six billion times for education. education is unbelievably difficult to study. it's a dark land of confounding variables and minuscule effect sizes. every education study in the world is going to be flawed. all of them! so to look at study, deem it flawed, and determine that therefore it has nothing we can learn from... is like really really literally, in the world of ed shit, to say, fuck it, just go based on vibes. which... has not served the profession well, to say the least.

(i swear to fucking god some people would read the second shift and be like, ok but hochschild only talked to 12 couples? lmao what kind of sample size is that... obviously her in depth interviews have no value compared to administering 500000 questionnaires that we would then nitpick for being insufficiently unambiguous in wording. basically this book has nothing to teach us about the distribution of domestic labor in heterosexual partnerships, which means i never have to think about this topic again since it's made up and doesn't matter!)

[cherieetcherries]

Scylla - a few thoughts on her and her depiction in EPIC and other fun facts.

So a few days ago, one of my friends showed me "EPIC: The Musical" and as a fan of greek mythology I loved it. Although I loved the songs, the animations and content I've been seeing generally, there were some misconceptions about certain things for certain characters including Scylla.

(Now I'm in no way shape or form a professional or know everything about greek mythology, so I might be wrong on some stuff and feel free to correct me!)

♡Story and backstory♡

First of all, I'd like to start with saying that Scylla was born a monster in most myths, including the Odyssey. Now she has different sets of parents in each story she's partaken in, when it comes to Homer's book he never mentions a father but he does inform that her mother is Crataeis.

Homer doesn't really give a backstory -rather he didn't really give her a story at all, she was just a monster- to Scylla other than her mother. The only thing we know about her is that Circe advised Odysseus to sail top speed past her, so he could only lose six men, and that he should ask her mother to prevent Scylla from pouncing more than once.

And here is the misconception of Scylla being cursed by Circe because she got jealous basically. Don't get me wrong Scylla was indeed cursed by her in Ovid's Metamorphoses, but it counts as Roman literature and not Greek. So totally different myths, nothing to do with the Scylla from Epic.

Also, a cute reminder, Scylla and Charybdis go together! In the musical they were in two different songs and in different stages of the musical but in Homer's Odyssey they were in the same strait. Scylla, on one hand, was hidden in the cave of one scope. While Charybdis, on the other hand, was located near the opposite scope.

♡Appearance♡

Now let me start by saying that I love the fanarts and the animatics. All of them are lovely and I'm not judging anyone of how they want to depict her!

I just want to say that Scylla was depicted with dog heads sprouting from her body and a cetus tail. For all of you who don't know Cetus is a large sea monster, ceti were depicted as serpentine fish. But in Homer's book she was land based and more dragon like.

Although, in my personal opinion I like the dog heads more. But I don't have anything else to add to the appearance thing than that!

Fun fact:

♡Scylla in greek means bitch! I know you might think I'm lying but I'm not. The greek language has female and male words. Scylos (σκύλος) means dog and the female counterpart is Scylla which is only used as a curse word at this point. So most people in greek call their female dog scyllitsa (σκυλίτσα) which is like a "cuter" way to explain it simply (think of "pup" → "puppy").

Anyways, I hope you appreciated my rant and learnt something I guess. I really enjoyed epic and I might do the same thing with other myths or characters too. Once again I want to remind you that I could be wrong in some parts and feel free to fact check me if you think I've missed something or interpreted it wrongly!

Thank you for reading my ted talk,

Cherie <3

[9w1ft]

Hi 9! What are your thoughts on “loml”? I really love your reads on songs (you totally changed my feelings on WCS and evermore!).

hi! this is still an evolving song for me but right now i see it as a karlie perspective song that covers several iterations of their relationship, as taylor attempted to reboot the public narrative of it time and again. so it’s going back to the idea that ive talked about in my wcs interpretation, and various other times, of the “years of tearing down our banners”

i like this framing because it helps the line “something counterfeit’s dead” make a lot of sense. because it’s a way of mourning a narrative that was a form of the truth. if we look at kaylor as one big long spanning relationship without breakups (which is what more than a few og’s think) that they had to cut the public narrative for several times, then each time they worked to rebuild the public narrative is crafting something that’s not exactly true because they were never apart in the first place.

so basically it comes down to how you associate each phrase of the song with what time period, and i go back and forth on it, but i’ll give a potential example,

if you know it in one glimpse, it’s legendary = 2013-14 ending in kissgate

you and i go from one kiss to getting married = 2015-16 ending in the election

still alive killing time at the cemetery never quite buried = 2017-18 ending in the wedding thing

if you know it in one glimpse, it’s legendary = 2013-14, 2015-16

what we thought was for all time was momentary = 2019 ending at the end of june

still alive killing time at the cemetery never quite buried = the present at the time of the song

it was legendary = 2013-14, 2015-16, 2018

it was momentary = 2019 ending in june

it was unnecessary should’ve let it stayed buried = 2019 ending in june, was ultimately unnecessary, as decided by the narrator at the present time of the song

here are some thoughts i had about what different things in the song could be referring to:

i wonder if the song opens with them starting to plan for rep era. i imagine taylor sitting down with karlie and walking her through her plans, and showing her how she was going to do all these amazing things for karlie over the era. and karlie describes it as “whos going to stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames when we know the steps anyway” as a way of describing how they had to tear their banners down after kissgate, with words like waltzing and flames being reminiscent of dancing with our hands tied.

“we embroidered our memories from the time i was away” is reminiscent of how people are away during war, which i think connects to the great war, and i love how the line is about them embroidering their memories and saying aw look at how young we were! even though they were apart? it’s this interesting blend of phrases people use when looking at a scrapbook or old photos of each other, juxtaposed with the idea that someone was away. it sort of works, it doesn’t not work, but there’s an interesting ‘?’ that happened in my mind.

“i said i don’t mind, it takes time” connects to taylor’s “so i take my time” refrain in ready for it. i would argue this makes a little more sense from karlie’s perspective. and as she’s referred to as the starry eyed one in other songs, “i thought i was better safe then starry eyed” connects this portion of the song to karlie’s perspective as well.

i also wonder if “i felt aglow like this never before and never since” refers to how reputation painted such a glitzy and glowing portrait of their relationship and of karlie.

“you and i go from one kiss to getting married” could potentially refer to the period of time between kissgate and 2016-ish where a lot of people think they may have quietly tied the knot, but moreover i think the line refers to an example of a time that they rebooted their public relationship, the rebuild that happened after kissgate (that dissolved post-election). it could also just refer to the period between kissgate and the wedding thing in 2018.

because i think that “and your suit and tie in the nick of time” refers to the 2018 wedding thing, where the million times line connects to songs like illicit affairs.

also “still alive killing time at the cemetery never quite buried” is giving “i tried” tombstone with the daisy growing up out of it pin. i also think about the line in wcs about how “the tomb won’t close”

next part of the song i think is a time jump to karlie reflecting on (mourning) lover era. “when your impressionist paintings of heaven turned out to be fakes well you took me to hell too.” is so reminiscent to me of the lover era pastel aesthetic and then the sharp turn towards allowing the vilification of karlie once more. “and all at once the ink bleeds, a conman sells a fool a get love quick scheme” feels like karlie describing the way that it felt, to have had taylor sit her down and describe all the wonderful things she had planned for them with lover era, how she learned from what didn’t work, and how she is ready to come out now, and so on and so forth, and how these plans got thrown away all at once at the last minute and how karlie may have felt by that. “what we though was for all time was momentary” i think could refer to thinking that this time around they would get the plan right, but the rollout of it during lover era ended up being momentary.

“you cinephile in black and white all those plot twists and dynamite” and “your arsons match” returns us to the image of the one who again and again tears down the banners. incidentally, mr steal your girl and make her cry seems to be a play on the nursery rhyme “georgie porgie” which i have come to learn through some light online research might be referencing a gay sex scandal of king charles the 2nd. at least, there’s folklore suggesting as much. so this could be a line about a back and forth of running to and away from being gay, and making the girl cry in the process. i’m taking a lot of poetic license with this point but i think thematically it’s interesting.

“i wish i could i unrecall how we almost had it all” of course underscores this abandonment of the “best laid plans” talked about in songs like hoax and the black dog as well

oh and i have a mutual that has this idea that the black dog is about scott b, where the location “the black dog” is a stand in for the bluebird cafe, where they met. and if we connect “and all of those best laid plans you said i needed a brave man and proceeded to play him until i believed it too” to “what a valiant roar what a bland goodbye the coward claimed he was a lion” then we can see this segment of loml as representing the failed coming out, how it started off strong but ended with taylor deciding not to follow through with it, and maybe karlie has feelings about that.

“i’m combing through the braids of lies” feels like a heavy line but again i think it very artfully depicts what a lot of it has been, an intricate weaving of multiple ongoing maintained narratives, now needing to be combed out again. many years out now from 2019, reflecting back on it, it really feels more and more like a crucial inflection point and i could imagine that the situation at the time did quite feel like the loss of a lifetime.

so these are my thoughts!! hope you find a few things that resonate with you!

[werecreature-addicted]

Im sorry if this is a weird question!

Im writing a fallen angel for a story i have, and it’s supposed to be a conduit and also a character study but i keep getting caught up in accurate portrayals and instead of slutting out the idea of someone whos sinned discovering sins that feel good n why and also a lil bit of guilt and repression into bible study. Like fucckkk Biblically angels have no form no dick no gender and by projecting sin am i divorcing my character from divinity (the hot thing) and making them illogically susceptible too callous/fragile in their fall? Is my interpretation of the bible and its fallen angels fetishistic to the point of missing the core? Am i doing a disservice to the complexity by indulging in the devotion and worship sharpened into a point by proxy of the fall, an angel now getting to choose its own master, should i leave it to people who ‘get it’ more?

Basically i keep falling into the ‘Not narratively or factually correct or compelling. Orgasm denied.’ Trap. 😔

How would you go about writing such a character? Is it a very interpretive, personal trope, is there some inherent truisms i can keep in mind, or should i scrap? Or not the point- is this the fun cop in my head speaking? Id love to hear your thoughts!

The Bible has always been a living text. While everyone has their own personal translations, no one interpretation is going to be more true than another, despite what every single religious sect will tell you. We are all unique individuals. We all bring our own baggage and experiences to the Bible and we will all see that reflected back at us in different ways. This is true of all art really but I think it’s really potent when it comes to this ancient book that has been adapted and translated and reimagined and recontextualized hundreds- thousands of times. To focus on consensus misses the point I think.

The Bible says we are all made in gods image, that we have that spark of divinity deep in our bodies- but we’re more than that there’s a whole soul and body and life around that divine spark. To shame yourself for not meeting the standards set by others is to sacrifice your own personal relationship to god to the point it borders on sacrilege. Because really the point, or at least one points, of the Bible is to meet god through the stories it tells and everyone will have a different favorite part or a part that moves them to tears.

To use the word of god as fuel for fallen angel smut is just as noble and valid use of the Bible as anything. In fact I’d argue it is more beautiful than a lot of the evil people do in the name of the Bible. To create art is the most important thing you can do in your life and I’m telling you now if you let yourself be dissuaded from this story it will haunt you for the rest of your life until you do write it. This has happened to me and to every writer I know. because you love the story so much you think you cannot do it justice, that the story deserves a “better” author but the truth is that you are the only one who can do it justice because of that love!!! No one else can do your passions for you and any god who claims to love his creations would want you to write that fallen angel smut.

Angels were gods first attempt at making humans so I think it’s perfectly within the bounds of Christianity to say that angels could have some sort of dick and balls situation going on. Just- you know a rough draft version. Or perhaps they are so different from humans that they have entirely new and alien erogenous zones. Maybe their human lover is accidentally getting them off with a touch that was meant to be platonic. Or vice versa. The angel doesn’t realize that fingering a human is sex and they stumble backwards into committing a sin. Orgasms are mostly mental anyways. Maybe they don’t need to be touched just talked to in the right way to get them off.

There is a lot of fun to be had with angels and with fallen angels and personally I think the kind of smut that comes from it should be character driven and tied to the reason they fell in the first place and focusing on character motivations for having sex will probably help move the story along.

Angels are known for their devotion. Did they like Lucifer fall for being too devoted to god and not being willing to put another master (mankind) before him? How would that play out in the bedroom? Would they be bratty and defiant only becoming pliant and obsessively obedient after being broken by a sadistic human? Or are they so desperate to serve someone- anyone- they’re moping around bdsm clubs just falling at the feet of any dom who will play with them and assure them they’re being a good obedient pet? Do they see humanity as beneath them and that a human only exists for their pleasure? Toys meant to be broken?

Sometimes if you’re struggling to have a concrete answer to the question “is this something this character would do?” It’s better to ask yourself the reverse “what circumstances would make this character do X?” And see if that helps.

I think it’s perfectly fine to deny your angel orgasms as long as you the writer aren’t denying yourself peak erotic wish fulfillment. The best writing advice is always follow your heart and do what you think is hot, let the rest fall into place afterwards.

TL;DR: the Bible is a great jumping off point for your erotic fallen angel fantasies but don’t get too caught up in being accurate or a faithful adaptation and never stop creating horny, self indulgent art.

[treetopgardens]

Going to add my own two cents (couldn't resist with that analogy!) here, as I think this is an interesting topic to explore! My thoughts on the matter are that his politeness is genuine. Just straight-up genuine, and that's always been one of my favorite aspects (if not my favorite aspect) of his character. Throughout the whole show he's enjoyed proper and formal behaviors, and appreciates it when other characters behave that way around him. It almost seems to loosen him up from what I've seen, making him more chatty with the other kids or having him give affectionate smiles to Eddy when he notices Eddy being nice. I've always thought those gentries to be something Double D values, and so he behaves that way because he has an earnest appreciation for them. Cordial is a good word for it - politeness can be and is a form of kindness, they do have their similarities, so it'd make sense that someone as empathic as Edd would want to treat people with manners.

Everyone gets more irritable when they get pushed to the end of their rope, which is how I see the Cleanliness is Next to Edness example. In my mind, situations like that don't reveal that Double D's manners are an act or a mask or come from a sense of duty, but rather that everyone has their breaking points. I do agree that at those times he can force himself to remain non-confrontational and the like, trying to keep it up to perhaps dissolve the tension, but emotions are strong and there comes a time where you're simply ruled by them. That being said, it doesn't make the state outside those emotions or breaking point any less real! Nor does it necessarily mean that those intensities aren't real, either. Both sides can be real.

But anyway, this is just how I interpret things at the end of the day! Not forcing anyone to agree or disagree, just wanted to share my thoughts :)

Over that anon orate, that sums up how I feel over Double D too. I don't like him being excessively nice or flawless (fuck fangirls), but I also don't like making him a COMPLETE bitch to the point of turning so antagonist (and I have seen it in A LOT of fanfics recently). And I agree he would be so hateful as Kevin and Sarah this way. He's 50% sweet, 50% salty, that's Double D.

I feel certain fanfic writers really walk on thin ice regarding Double D and has a hard time getting his character right.

I’m not so sure I’ve noticed this uptick in a mean spirited Edd in fics. My suggestion would be to not get too caught up reading fics you don’t enjoy! (Same goes for real books honestly). There will always be work by casual fans that don’t fully understand the characters or newer writers who are figuring it out, but there are also lots of amazing fic writers out there too! Well maybe not a TON since it’s always been a fairly small fandom from what I can tell.

[vault81]

finally finished the Starfield MQ! thoughts below (spoilers)

I enjoyed the Starfield MQ! I think it's a step up storywise from Fallout 4 (that's not difficult though lmfao) I liked the companions and side characters in Constellation a lot, I wish we had more quests featuring them tbh.

I do have my issues with the main quest though, firstly I just hate multiverses as a trope. I'm so burned out of them from TV/films that I don't really care for them much, so when that was revealed, I was just underwhelmed by it. But also the fact that it basically boils down to we have these 2 dickheads from another universe who want the artifacts for their own reasons! Side with either of them or not!

Like I really feel like we didn't need a main 'bad guy' for this game at all, so much of this game was built up by the concept of exploration, learning what these artifacts are. We really didn't need The Hunter or The Emissary at all. And don't even get me started on them, the Hunter's entire philosophy just boils down to "because I can" which could be interesting if it was written well, and The Emissary is just the brotherhood's philosophy in space (these artifacts are too dangerous, so I'm going to hoard them and decide who is 'worthy' enough to go into the Unity)

Like I feel like Starfield's story starts off quite strong, but the further in we get it just gets weaker and weaker. I mean the Starborn as a concept are cool ig? But the execution leaves a lot to be desired. I would've liked it more if we kept that exploration focus, primarily on the artifacts! And we learn about the Armillary and the Unity from the Creators of the artifacts, or just through our own research into these artifacts, actually fill these hundreds of planets with something instead of randomly generated slop. You'd then have a choice at the end to either go into the Unity, and do NG+, or stay in this universe and delve deeper into the Creators of the artifacts! I feel like that'd lead into naturally into DLC. I just felt like these antagonists were completely unnecessary (to me).

And GOD, let's talk about that choice between staying or the Unity. These companions fucking bitch and moan so much about how you have to go into the Unity, it doesn't even feel like a natural decision. Even if you tell them no they're like "but we're explorers it's our job to explore different universes" how about you fucking suck my dick'n balls. Go explore the multiverse by yourself then, don't rush me!

ALSO, I hate how even if you reject the Unity, it's like dw babes you can still go back to it later! NO!!!!! If I've REJECTED it, I don't want to have the option to go back later! When I walk away from the Unity, it should be credits! Like when you go through it! I feel like it takes away any weight to the choice of do we go through, lose a piece of ourselves as we are reborn in a new universe, leaving our loved ones behind! Or staying with in this universe with those we've come to love and care about.

Overall, I actually really enjoyed Starfield! I do have numerous problems with it, but I still think it's a fun little adventure!

[limbcom]

créme de la créme aftermath...

i refuse to believe that either one of them would leave each other after winning. they're friends, the winner would soo pull the other so they'd hold hands and stand atop the 1st place podium together. like

it's real it's canon trust me i'm pure vanilla's hat

[casscainmainly]

Duke and Bruce: A Question of Definition

When re-reading Cursed Wheel, I was struck by this exchange. Suspicions around Bruce's motive for taking in Duke is a running thread in their relationship, but what fascinates me about this moment is that Duke is using this suspicion against Bruce. He knows Bruce will be hurt by this accusation. More than hurt - Bruce's "maybe" suggests uncertainty, a lack of faith in himself. In this exchange, Duke and Bruce are both uncertain of what they mean to each other, and both troubled by that uncertainty.

This uncertainty runs throughout their time together. I'm going to try to track Bruce & Duke's dynamic through the years; basically, this post collects my disparate Bruce-Duke thoughts from my full Duke read. So warning that this is a LONG post.

I will probably contradict takes I've had in the past but you live and you learn 😭. Also the Bruce-Duke dynamic shifts a lot so this is not definitive or 100% correct - lots of these moments can be interpreted differently! But with all that said, let's jump into Zero Year!

The Beginning

Duke and Bruce first meet during the disaster called Zero Year, where Riddler blacks out and floods Gotham:

Batman (2011) #21

At its core, Zero Year and Endgame are about Bruce's relationship to Gotham. Duke says "He thinks you're dead[...] ever since he killed the city." Batman's death becomes intertwined with the city's death; in the reverse way, Duke in Bruce's mind will become intertwined with Gotham. This exchange sets up their relationship as reciprocal: Bruce gives Duke his fish, and Duke gives Bruce information. From the beginning, they have equal need for each other.

Batman (2011) #30

After Duke's parents rescue Bruce, Bruce tries to persuade Duke to leave Gotham. Duke replies: "No. We're here." Duke's decision to stay in Gotham directly influences Bruce to stay as well - here, we begin to see Bruce linking Duke to the city. This issue establishes that their relationship in some ways revolves around the city itself.

Batman (2011) #38

Then, Joker arranges for Duke and his parents to star in a re-enactment of the Wayne murders. Bruce manages to rescue Duke only, and then Bruce asks Duke to help him find a first aid kit for Jim. This scene parallels their first meeting in #21 (see the fish panel above!), with one handing something to the other. Their positions are flipped: this time it's Duke handing something to Bruce. The flipping nods to the 'reciprocity' aspect, and also to the way they parallel and will continue to parallel each other (particularly in Snyder's writing).

But this is also the first moment of genuine connection between the two of them! Bruce asks Duke to be a "friend," and they fist bump. Nowhere near familial, but a bit more intimate - this intimacy is more on Bruce's side than Duke's though. Duke still sees Bruce as primarily Batman, but Batman begins to think about Duke as an individual. This one-sided growing intimacy is a core tenet of their dynamic.

Symbols and People

Let's address this 'one-sided intimacy'. To Duke, Bruce is Batman first and foremost, and he criticises Bruce whenever he's not:

Batman (2011) #47

To Duke, Bruce is just anybody, but Batman? That symbol "inspire[s]" people, and "no one could be [Batman] but you!" His faith in Bruce is entirely tied to the Bat symbol. Concurrently with his growing understanding of the Robin symbol in We Are Robin, a large part of Duke's early story is about symbols as markers of community and hope. He prioritises Batman's relationship to the city over any relationship he personally could have with Bruce.

Bruce's view of their relationship has shades of this too. He tends to describe Duke in terms of his effect on the city:

From Batman & The Signal #3 and Batman: The Secret Files: The Signal respectively, both of these are about Duke's potential to benefit Gotham. The latter in particular shows Bruce idealising Duke as the 'perfect' Gothamite, a "represent[ation]" of the city's best.

This kind of idolisation skates close to early Bruce-Cass, particularly the idea of Duke being the 'best' (analogous to Bruce calling Cass 'perfect'). But Bruce does not go as far as he did with Cass. Other Duke fans have said this, but in a lot of ways Bruce is actively trying not to fall into previous parenting/mentoring failures. So he tamps down this symbolisation with lines about Duke as a specific person:

Batman & The Signal #1

"Something independent of the past, and... of me." The wording here is so careful, so constructed to highlight Duke's agency and to separate Duke from Bruce's previous relationships. Bruce also separates Duke from himself, avoiding the projection that was characteristic of, yet again, early Bruce-Cass. I'm Cass-brained so I'm mostly using Cass but these pitfalls occur for his other kids as well. Bruce does see Duke as a symbol of Gotham/hope, but he also knows the importance of seeing Duke as an individual with agency.

Bruce's struggles drive him to differentiate Duke from the other Robins, to cover him in bats but allow him to work during the day, to constantly show how important Duke is to him personally but only verbally acknowledge Duke's importance to Gotham. He ends up simultaneously pulling Duke into the family (offering him the manor, giving him a Batsuit, working alongside him in All-Star) and accepting Duke's distance (allowing him to work in the daytime, giving him his own cave, putting him on the Outsiders).

And Duke, being the detective he is, notices.

Insecurity

A ton of Duke stories feature people telling Duke he doesn't fit/shouldn't be here:

Dark Nights: Death Metal Robin King // Cursed Wheel Part 2 // Cursed Wheel Part 6 // Detective Comics (2016) 983

Duke brushes some of these instances, but he does internalise some of it. See Batman and the Signal #1 and Cursed Wheel Part 6:

Duke's insecurities are not about Bruce alone. They're about being unable to find community, represented by the Batfam in both cases. But Bruce is a huge factor in the insecurity, and the Cursed Wheel panel in particular is so evocative for me. The way Duke frames it - "They found a way inside with you" - suggests that Duke is expecting Bruce to help him. He doesn't want Bruce's approval, but he does need Bruce to help him through this, in the reciprocal way they've always helped each other.

But I think Bruce's struggle to define what Duke means to him, as I outlined above, is part of why Duke feels Bruce isn't helping him. Duke begins to question Bruce's motives in taking him in:

Batman and the Signal #2 // Dark Days: The Casting

Bruce shuts it down every time (including in Cursed Wheel Part 6), but it doesn't really make Duke feel better. "I chose you because of who you are / I only wanted to be there when you decided what you were going to become." Bruce consistently highlights Duke's agency/individuality as the reason he took him in, but it just doesn't jibe with what actually happens - not Bruce giving him two suits, putting the bat on him, etc. And Duke sees that inconsistency, so anytime Bruce pulls out an 'it's just because you're cool Duke,' it doesn't ring true. They both know that's not Bruce's entire motive.

That brings me to the panel I opened this post with. Duke questions whether Bruce took him in for self-serving reasons, and Bruce pauses before saying "maybe." Duke hits on the reason for Bruce's inconsistent behaviour - Bruce himself is uncertain about his motives for taking Duke in, and afraid they are selfish. This uncertainty in turn sows insecurity in Duke, because he values and desires transparency. As long as Bruce is unsure about why he took Duke in, Duke cannot be fully comfortable in his position in the Batfam.

Parenthood

But what's the root of Bruce's uncertainty? Right before the Cursed Wheel argument, Bruce suggests moving Elaine and Doug away. What Duke says - 'maybe you took me in out of guilt' - is a paraphrase of what a Jokerised Elaine told him earlier. This argument, and Bruce's uncertainty, revolves around Duke's parents.

Bruce is kind of the reason anything happens to Duke's parents anyway (since Joker mimics the Wayne murders), but Bruce also promises Duke everything will be alright:

Batman (2011) #38

Duke doesn't blame Bruce for what happened to his parents or his inaction on finding them - he calls Bruce's amnesia 'selfish', but it's more a general critique than a personal one. But I think Bruce does blame himself for failing to keep his promise. I'm extrapolating a lot because we don't really see any of Bruce's feelings, but thinking of his reaction to Duke's mom's absence in Batman: Urban Legends #18:

Jefferson says Duke is going to make a mistake that he'll "never forgive himself" for, but they "owe [Duke] more than that". This is pure extrapolation but I like to read this as touching on Bruce's guilt for never having found Duke's parents earlier, something he'll never forgive himself for. He owes Duke, which is why he becomes hell bent on finding Elaine when she goes missing again. But if he's guilty at this point, then the guilt could have run through their entire relationship.

Which makes things so complicated!! Bruce feels guilty about not saving Duke's parents; Bruce loves how much Duke loves his parents; Bruce thinks it's not good for Duke to spend so much time thinking about his parents; Bruce also, maybe, a little bit, wants to be Duke's parent. Thinking of this tidbit from Detective Comics #984:

Bruce warns Jefferson about how he should treat Duke, and the very first thing he says is that Duke "won't want another father figure". This shows that a) Duke and fatherhood is a touchy subject and b) it's a subject at the forefront of Bruce's mind. This wording also leaves it ambiguous whether Bruce considers himself a 'father figure'. The next line is nonsense about Duke respecting Bruce too much to 'challenge' him, which is plain wrong, but it does show that Bruce is not very clear what his relationship to Duke is. He's not exactly a 'father figure,' but neither is he a stranger like Jefferson. This in-betweenness is repeated by Duke in Batman & The Outsiders (2019) #1, when he says "You're not my father. And you're not Batman." Batman occupies this nebulous role in Duke's life, orbiting fatherhood but never quite touching it.

Though I think this discomfort around fatherhood is more on Bruce's side, nebulous fatherhood is also a motif for Duke. In Batman & The Signal, Gnomon's presence disrupts a lot of Duke's beliefs about 'family'. We don't have too much on Duke's feelings about Gnomon (recurring thing... sigh) but we do have morsels:

Batman: Urban Legends #18 // Batman: The Secret Files: The Signal

Gnomon makes Duke question Doug's 'father' status; simultaneously, Duke struggles with this idea of 'trading' his WAR family for the Batfamily; then, in Urban Legends, Duke imagines his mom accusing him of loving his dad more than her. All of this shows Duke is deeply troubled by familial replacement - he's terrified of losing his family, particularly Doug and Elaine, because he's found other people he considers family. Bruce figures as both a symbol of the Batfamily and as a possible-father, undergirding a lot of Duke's fears here. So while Bruce more overtly grapples with the way their relationship is defined, Duke also struggles with it.

It's why Duke imagines Bruce under 'family' in Batman & The Signal #3, and then immediately amends it to 'mentor' and 'friend'. In a way, Duke's namelessness in All-Star Batman is a symbolic encapsulation of how neither of them name what they mean to each other.

Our Best Selves

BUT while their relationship is complex and filled with uncertainty, it can also be a really beautiful, really healing thing for both of them.

All-Star Batman #3

Bruce has a long history of shutting people out and being dishonest, which has landed him in hot water with his allies many times. But Duke, who represents honesty and truth, allows him in turn to be honest. Duke knows Bruce needs someone to hear him talk about Harvey, and Bruce knows that Duke needs the truth. And they offer each other what they need, as they have from the very beginning.

Bruce does this for Duke, too, in Batman: Urban Legends #18:

Duke has been working himself to the bone trying to find his mom, to the Outsiders' worry. But it's Bruce's appearance that allows Duke to finally talk about what he's been working on. This panel just really gets me because Duke is talking to all of them but looking straight at Bruce - at a man so entangled with Gotham, with what happened to Doug and Elaine. He wants Bruce to understand. Bruce does.

They are both people who have such a deep love for Gotham, for their parents, who believe in rehabilitation and the goodness of people. And they'll always save each other.

All-Star Batman #5

All-Star Batman #5 // Batman (2011) #50

So actually this section is about the random Duke appearance in Detective Comics #982. Deacon Blackfire tells Bruce that Gotham is cursed, and the issue takes Bruce through ruminations about underserved Gotham neighbourhoods, the role of community, and ends with him watching the sun come up with a little boy. IT'S SO DUKE, like everything Duke stands for, but it's also what Bruce stands for too!! And what's interesting is that when Bruce is told he's alone, he imagines Dick, Babs, Damian, and Duke. Duke says, "we're out best selves because of you."

The Duke-Bruce relationship is a reciprocal one, so Bruce may bring out the best in Duke but Duke also brings out the best in Bruce. And they both believe in the best of people, the best of the city. They are both in love with Gotham, with their families, and they both deeply believe in rehabilitation and promises. They are their best selves because of each other.

Conclusion

In Cursed Wheel Part 4, Duke decides to keep his parents on the premises. He tells Bruce that no matter what his parents say, the truth is that they love him, and he can take it. And Bruce smiles.

Because even though Bruce was the one who suggested moving his parents away - even though he may want Duke to be in his family - he loves Duke because he would never let his parents be moved. Through all of the symbols they make out of each other, all of the slippery definitions of fatherhood, friendship, and mentorship, they are two people who fundamentally get each other. Duke gets where Bruce is coming from with Harvey, and Bruce gets what Duke needs (with the daytime, with the Outsiders, with finding his mom).

The best Bruce-Duke moments are layered with an intimacy that isn't necessarily familial, but is also not strictly teacher-student. They've grown close, but they are also still independent of each other - and though I don't think either of them will ever fully say what they are, that's not so important. They may never be fully free of the uncertainty that underlies their relationship, but they love each other, and the indefinability of their love doesn't make it any less strong.

[bleue-flora]

I hear you, and I’m sorry if it came across as aggressive or rude to those who have put time and effort into it, I can see I have rubbed some the wrong way and I can totally understand why. My sincere apologies. That was not my intention. You are absolutely right - “if it’s wrong don’t complain go fix it” that’s fair to say and I have thought about it.

Part of my hesitancy is not everyone really likes my lore interpretation or the details I point out so there’s a likely chance I’d upset a lot of people if I were to go and set the record straight. Additionally, while there is an obvious lot of bias already in the wiki, I don’t want to accidentally add my own. While I do try my best to be unbiased and think about things from different perspectives, I can also recognize that I do see lore a certain way and that would show. Even if the way I often see lore is that there are multiple options besides the common fanon. Additionally, like I said I’m honestly not sure where I’d even start and that in itself is an overwhelming thing, which is made worse by the fact that I can be a little bit, lack of a better word, obsessive about small things and so can spend a lot of time doing something I really shouldn’t be (like before we got across the the map watching vods to figure out what the enchantments and names of Quackity’s and Sam’s tools for just one example - more tedious than it sounds lol) I’ll also admit I don’t know everything about everyone so there’s that. And that there is plenty of lore that directly contradicts itself like my recent post for example, plus there are things that I’ll learn later that changes things. And while I have done analysis on plenty of plot holes, motivations and mindsets using lore and reasoning to fill them, it wouldn’t be quite right for me to just link my blog posts as references lol. So you put that all together and you end up with the likelihood that I would - become way too absorbed into it and spend time I don’t have, step on people’s toes, and likely shift the bias lol… but having said all that, I do have a shit ton of clips and have been cataloging streams, so I might do so anyways… or perhaps I could at least just fix some of the things I have discovered. I don’t know, I have been considering it for a while now to be honest…

If there was any underlying frustration in my original post I think it’s because of some of the bias but mostly the fact that people (not just specifically the wiki) so often get lore things wrong in general, which ya know it happens not everyone is well… obsessive like me lol, that’s very fair, and it’s not even their fault if they are just looking at the wiki and it is wrong. But it does admittedly trigger me (even when I know it’s unreasonable for it to) even if that just is an unfortunate reality, not really anyone to blame just is what it is. Like everyone other fandom just has to watch one thing but we have to watch hundreds of hours of multiple characters with vods hard to find or deleted, of course things will be missing and things will be wrong, but wow it’s clear how much work has been put into it. Y’all have done a great job and I appreciate all the work everyone has done and the details and clear passion in it. I’m sorry if I diminished that in anyway, y’all have done an excellent job and I am so impressed y’all have put this together. <3 I can’t even tell you how often I use it to double check dates and participants and lore I haven’t watched or things about characters I don’t know a whole lot about. It’s not perfect, but nothing is and it is awesome and it’s cool to be apart of such a dedicated fandom.

outside of c!dream's page how is the dsmp fandom wiki looking recently?

uhhh... anon, that's quite a can of worms honestly, but yeah it's not in good shape. It's missing things like especially items, and then credits for builds, some of the relationships are wrong, some of the motivations are wrong and timeline of events. Some events are just straight up wrong or missing details like the disc saga which blows my mind because how can we call them the disc duo and not even know the events of the disc saga. There's also just missing events like Eryn and Michaelmicchill breaking into the prison, Tommy burning down Tubbo's house, Tubbo visiting Tommy in Exile (twice), Punz and Dream rushing in and killing Quackity and Fundy before the Pogtopia vs Manberg war even started presumably on Schlatt's orders since they betrayed Schlatt, Sam's and Dream's duel to protect George, Technoblade murdering George which leads to Dream talking to (just George) about dethroning him for his protection, Niki being held hostage as part of the Battle of the Lake as well as the whole reason it happened... I could go on and on from the details of the Revival Book to Tommy's original banishment, like there are so many things wrong I don't even know where to begin and I don't even know that much about every single character so I imagine there is even more wrong for them too that I'm not even aware of...