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#but it’s a concept i like to explore within my work a lot
necrotic-nephilim · 2 days
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I started in DC by reading fanfics, but as I began to read actual comics, I started to be unable to read the actual fanfic that got me into it in the first place because it's so out of character.
But there are still some stories that I love to read because I love the found family trope so much, even if it isn't really accurate to the source material.
As a comics purist (sometimes), are there tropes that you like enough that you'll still enjoy a fic even if it's not accurate to canon?
oh my god this is SUCH a fun question. bc while i started with the comics, there were certain characters and/or character dynamics where i was exposed to the fanon before the canon (just bc it's hard to read everything when you start out just to read some fanfic) and so i've definitely experienced the fanon to canon transition. (*especially* with Jason Todd. i had only read 80s/90s stuff where he was already dead or the New-52 bc that was on-going when i got into comics and man. the fanon misunderstandings i had about him before i got frustrated and sat down to read all his pre-Flashpoint stuff were absolutely bonkers.) and aside from that, whilst i tend to prefer canon over fanon, i'm not past giving fanon its flowers for occasionally having really interesting insights. occasionally. so some of my fanon "guilty pleasure" tropes would probably be
Morally Grey Tim Drake - this is one where if you try to back it up with canon, i *will* get salty about it. of everyone in the Batfam aside from maybe Bruce and Cass, Tim has the *most* black and white morals. often his internal conflicts are routed in such an inability to compromise his moral views and it can cause him to clash with other characters. he's *very* stiff and rigid in his beliefs and is *rare* to compromise in even the smallest ways. i mean, DC has repeatedly used Tim Drake of Tomorrow/Savior/Gun Batman!Tim for a reason. it's to demonstrate that of everyone, Tim *cannot* have his morals compromised. there's no grey area for him. he's zero or a hundred, so if he tips over the edge of "too far" he tips *all the way*, and doing so is one of his worst fears, how he could go "too far" if he let himself. a couple panels out of context from Red Robin (2009) (which was a grief spiral for Tim to begin with) don't change that. now that said. if it's done *right*, i sort of love Tim being morally grey in fanfic. it takes a specific flavor for me, and it's incredibly important to include that mental spiral along with it, of him struggling to justify it. i don't have any interest in "Tim Drake is loosy goosy with Bruce's morals and has the highest kill count and no one knows teehee" bc it doesn't play with the interesting parts of making Tim morally grey, which are fracturing his psyche. but all in all, i think it's fun to put Tim in a morally grey area and i will read it in fanfic and i enjoy writing it a lot
Joker Junior!Tim Drake - i've not written it on this account (yet) but on my main ao3 account one of my biggest fics surrounds this concept. this is one of those "well *technically* it's canon but only in a specific very divorced from the comics universe and would not work at all in the main timeline" so, i categorize it as fanon in that 95% of fics exploring the concept are not doing so within the Batman Beyond universe, but the main timeline. i just love it. I'll take any excuse to whump Tim, but this concept is so fun. psychologically breaking Tim will always be my favorite pastime. there are so many ways to explore the long-term effects this could have on him, how it could affect the Batfam. i'm not a fan of it being used as a "gotcha" to Jason or Babs' trauma with the Joker to paint Tim as the Ultimate Victim, but it is fun to see how their relationships would be affected by being mutual victims of him. (i have a vague JayTim idea where TIm fully retires from being Robin after being Joker Junior and killing the Joker, making Steph Robin for most of his typical Robin era and Jason still tracks him down out of curiosity bc he wants to know what happened and all. very underbaked but i've got thoughts.)
Renegade/Apprentice of Slade!Dick Grayson - this is another one where yes, this happened *sort of* in canon, but i highly doubt most people writing Renegate!Dick have read or are actually pulling from Nightwing: Renegade. it's just an exploration fo the concept fo Dick being Slade's apprentice and i will always eat it up in any capacity. whether Dick grows up with Slade from a young age, or chooses Slade for whatever reason later in life. it's not anything that works in canon bc it compromises Dick morally (similar to the above with Tim) and therefore will always come across incredibly fanon in most fics. but i can't say i don't enjoy it. it's fun to make Dick a little morally fucked up and see what you can make him under Slade's tutelage.
Jason & Damian Meeting in the League -there's no world where i believe this could work in the canon comics. (maybe in the Young Justice cartoon i suppose, but even then i think it's iffy) i would go as far to say it's wildly unrealistic. i don't see a world where Ra's would let Jason anywhere *near* Damian, bc Jason was Talia's pet project that he didn't approve of. that all said, there's something very interesting about how they *could've* met and them potentially bonding during that timeframe. them being somewhat brotherly during this time because Jason sees Bruce in Damian and sort of latches onto the kid and Damian is full of wonder hearing real stories about Batman and Robin, then that getting violently ripped away by Jason leaving the League is fun to me. it's fun how that could affect them within the Batfam and all. it's super fanon to me, but i do not care. i will eat it up
Bad Dad Clark Kent/Good Dad Lex Luthor - i will admit as a late, i've been less and less kind to this particular fanon bc of everything i've argued with people about, *this* one seems the most pervasive as misunderstood fanon. i don't mind when fanon exists, my gripe is when ppl try to claim it's canon. and the *arguments* i've had over this with people who can never seem to cite an actual comic are... frustrating. but that said, i think there is something fun to this strictly in fanon. the duality of who you expect to accept Kon and who you expect to hurt him being flipped is just sort of fun for the occasional guilty pleasure fic. it can make Kon's internal conflict a bit more interesting. the same goes for the Jon favoritism from Clark, it's not a canon thing (and i rlly wish ppl understood how complicated the timeline of Kon and Jon is and any distance from Clark toward Kon isn't malice, it's that Kon is from a timeline that Clark does not remember in the current canon so Clark just straight up doesn't know the poor kid.) but it's sort of fun to give Kon that complex of being overlooked and forgotten sometimes. making Kon just a *bit* more Luthor than Kent will *always* appeal to me in fanfic, especially if he *knows* it's wrong but craves approval from anyone who will give it.
Good Dad Bruce Wayne - i'll die on the hill Bruce is canonically a shitty father. maybe not to the extreme some people write him as, but he's not great at it. that said, i enjoy it in fanfiction. sometimes, i just want silly fluff or hurt/comfort where Bruce finally gets it right and manages to comfort whatever Batkid is in the fic. one of my favorite fics of all time is hinged on Bruce being a good dad, so i think it's just fun to explore how good the relationships *could* be, if Bruce was slightly less of an asshole. i usually prefer him as an asshole, but there are times i want low stakes nonsense.
Gotham Rogues Having Soft Spots for Robin(s) - just about every Rogue in Gotham has done something absolutely irredeemable, and most of them don't like or care about anyone in the Batfamily. but if there's a fic where one of the Robins inexplicably is sort of close with a Rogue and they have a cute silly relationship out of it? I'll eat it up i fear. Steph and the Riddler are besties? I'll believe it. Tim and Scarecrow get along pretty well? give me ten of these. Rogues protecting Robins just hits a spot. the unexpected nature of the relationship, as well as the fact they see each other regularly, can make a lot of good fodder.
#necrotic answerings#canon vs fanon#batfanon#batfamily#I was *going* to include “Janet and Jack Drake are bad parents”#then realized I don't really like that fanon anymore.#but I used to go *hard* for it even knowing it wasn't canon. it was all projection but still#nowadays I think the tragedy of Tim losing his parents the way he did is *far* worse if they loved him and were good to him.#I'm so serious about the Kon thing i've had *nasty* arguments where ppl got so rude to me telling me to “Google it”#like listen I get it. kon's canon backstory is currently difficult to understand#the timeline of the superboy mantle is a little confusing and most people have not read young justice (2019)#so for fanon it's far easier to simplify it as “clark just kinda sucks to kon” and i enjoy that#but the canon is also fun. it's fun when you consider how fucked up it is most people don't remember kon#and the timeline he remembers doesn't exist anymore.#also technically since they never killed off new-52!superboy on page there could be two superboys/kon-els running around rn. who knows.#i like to believe there is bc it's funny.#i have wanted to write a new-52!konkon/tim/kon sandwich#with the “is it selfcest or not” question#bc new-52!kon wasn't a clone of clark and lex.#so like. he's arguably a different character just sharing the name kon-el for some reason#also on the nightwing: renegade thing i know *damn* well most fanon-only fans haven't read it (no shade in that)#bc the fanon crowd despises devin grayson and she wrote it.#one day i'll write a meta about fandom treatment of devin grayson trust me.#this question was SO fun#i feel like i should have more answers?#if you'd asked me like six months ago this list would be three times as long#but the more i exist in this fandom somehow the saltier i get idk what's happening#so now i'm more and more attached to canon#but i will never begrudge someone for liking fanon#like i said my issue with it is the confusion of what is canon
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inkykeiji · 2 years
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i was just completely blown away by your post about agnes and what you said, it really really really resonated with me. i relate to everything you said and i remember reading in a post a while back that he was in the hospital and you felt conflicted about seeing him. i understand that. i also have a complicated relationship with my dad and i just love him so much but i could also be so upset with him because of the things he's done to me and my sister and my mom. oo i can't type too much!! -🧁
oh wow cupcake, thank you so much for this!!! i really appreciate hearing your thoughts, and it’s once again super comforting to hear that there’s someone else who can relate to it as well <33
tw: mentions of drugs + abuse
family in and of itself as a concept can be and often is so incredibly complex, especially when there’s something like drugs and/or abuse thrown into the mix. a lot of people (esp people online, i find) like to act as if these relationships are black and white, as if these feelings and these experiences can be easily and neatly sorted into defined categories when the fact of the matter is, they aren’t, and they can’t. obviously, abuse is bad—this is an objective fact we can all agree on. but when that abuse comes from a family member, a parent, someone who was supposed to be there for you and raise you and love you, it really muddies things.
i love my father, but i do not like him. i am hoping i can find it in me to forgive him for what he’s done to us before he dies, but i’m not sure it’ll happen. i still hold so much anger and bitterness and just generally negative feelings towards him, and in my twenty-something years on this earth i have only JUST begun to work through this shit. and he doesn’t have much time left.
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jinzouactor · 2 years
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Big fan of your worm! Out of curiosity - what made you choose that title for your Shimamine comic? Like a mayfly in milk is a peculiar name
t-thank you?🐛
Ok I guess, well partly its a reference to the lyrics of Haru Hisagi by Yorushika. It's a song that i LOVE even if its themes aren't particularly relevant to the plot (yet?). I like the mayfly imagery in that song. For me the word evokes something thats fleeting or short-lived.
I also used the idiom "like a fly in milk" which, honestly I thought was about being out of one's depth / floundering in a situation you're not suited to / not being able to handle one's circumstances (like "a fish out of water"). Apparently the phrase is more like being conspicuous in a negative sense. Either way works I guess..
I don't even know if im happy with this title but even now i can't think of a better one 😭 so we're rolling with this
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cursecuelebre · 10 days
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Top Recommendations for Norse Pagans that aren’t Problematic.
There is a lot of books by people who are racist and part of far right side of Heathenry and I’m going to try my best and list the books I have that helped me on my path that isn’t problematic and have questionable intentions. Books and YouTube channels.
Anglo Saxon Socerery and Magic by Alaric Albertson. He is very knowledgeable in his work and path especially on runes which includes the rune poem to make your own interpretation and witchcraft side of things. He even talks about the Elves which I appreciate because not a lot of Norse authors talk about them. It’s more Germanic than Norse but I can’t see any problem adopting certain aspects since they are very similar. I will say he does take himself a bit serious at times but his information is so good and worthwhile. I have not read his first book on Travels through middle earth but it focus on more the pagan side.
Poetic Edda and Prose Edda: it’s what every Norse pagan needs. It’s the foundation of Norse paganism not bibles but myths and tales that can help along our journey. There is tons of translations, but my favorites are Dr. Jackson Crawford Poetic Edda and Anthony Fawkes Prose Edda. But look into other sagas as well like Volsung which Dr Jackson Crawford also wrote about.
Beowulf. More of a Germanic tale but again includes it has roots of Germanic sorcery, traditions, religion like the concept of Wyrd (Fate), the runes, and values within his society like loyalty and mythical creatures. Again there is many translations even Jrr Tolkien did a incompleted version of Beowulf but I think Tom Shippey finished that version I could be wrong. Nonetheless explore more than one, the oneI have is by Seamus Heaney.
Grimm Fairy Tales this mostly German Folklore but it’s still quite important to learn about in German folk magic, creatures and entities in German folklore tends to be very real to the practitioner in their spellwork.
The Way of Fire and Ice by Ryan Smith a very progressive outlook in Norse paganism, he talks about creating communities in Norse paganism and calling out and denouncing Nazis in the community how Norse Paganism is inclusive and how to be open to all types of people. But he has a beginner approach to the deities, beliefs, values within Norse paganism.
Look into a lot of academic sources that’s where you will find a lot of information on Norse paganism and religions.
Tacitus Germania - A Roman historian talking about the Germanic tribes their culture and customs.
Saxo Grammaticus history of the Danes
The Viking Way by Neil Price it goes good in depths about magic in Scandinavia like Seidh
Dictionary of Norse Mythology a quick guide to northern myths, if you are trying to find a specific god and you don’t have time to look up in a book it’s in there with great information to each one.
Children of Ask and Elm: History of Vikings by Neil Price on Scandinavian culture during the Viking age
Some YouTube Channels
The Norse Witch: Bente lives in Germany and their channel encompasses all of Norse paganism more around magic. They do interviews with other Norse witches of folk magic like Icelandic and Danish. Even gives good book recommendations and advice on general spellwork as well!.
Dr Jackson Crawford he is an author but he also has a YouTube channel. He was a professor in Colorado on Norse culture, mythology, and language and now is a full time YouTuber. He did a series of videos on the runes which are more historically accurate. Discusses the myths and the language and what do they mean. Jackson Crawford isn’t a Norse pagan nor he doesn’t care if you are one but just letting you know he isn’t coming from a pagan perspective.
The Welsh Viking also like Jackson Crawford but still has really great knowledge on Viking culture.
De Spökenkyker who is a channel that focus on German Folk magic living in Germany who is a practicing German Folk Witch.
Please feel free to add on any recommendations that are helpful and useful to the Norse pagan Community!
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yannaryartside · 5 months
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CARMY NEVER WANTED TO CREATE A MENU WITH SYD.
AND WHY THAT IS THE CORE THEME OF THE SHOW
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PART 1: THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIEVES
So, one of the bases of creating an efficient character arc is to give the character something they want, and something they need. In the pursuit of getting what they want, the theme of the show and obstacles will show them what they need. Most of the time, they need healing from an emotional wound that prevents them from growing into the ultimate version of themselves, capable of winning the challenges of the story. I will try to explore Carmy's wound and, more importantly, the lie that created that wound.
In 'The negative trait thesaurus" by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi, it reads:
"Wounds are often kept secret from others because embedded within them is the lie-an untruth that the character believes about himself."
When I started therapy (disclaimer: this is not professional advice; I am just talking from how I interpreted all of this), I was introduced to the concept of "limiting beliefs:" lies we have told ourselves about our own nature or the nature of the world. The most difficult beliefs to leave behind are those established in our early childhoods, and we told ourselves those lies to make sense of the world, to make peace with realities we were not equipped to comprehend yet. 
Some examples of lies people belive:
"I am too stupid to learn anything; my teacher said so" "It was my fault that I was molested." "I am a bad person for wanting a different life."
When people believe these lies, they will act accordingly, maybe attracting situations that hurt them but keeping the lie active in their lives. They may self-sabotage or create bonds with people who also believe the lie, even if it doesn't seem this way. 
In some cases, people may develop complete personalities or behaviors to prove the lie wrong, but deep down, they still believe in the lie. Carmy falls into this last category. This is where we find the most contradictory parts of his personality, how he can act shy and insecure in some instances and appear confident and even aggressive in others. 
Long post underneath.
THE RESENT OF A MOTHER:
We can only assume here because I think Storer is gonna let us know more about this soon, but I think I got an idea of this wound when I saw the only moment Carmy was alone with Donna on "Fishes."
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I have a lot of things to say about Donna herself, but let's begin with the obvious: the conversation in this scene had little to do with the dinner itself. This was a woman stating that she felt alone and not valued, probably due to being abandoned by her husband and having to overwork herself at the beef to support her 3 kids, all while being a single mother. We don't know if this feeling of abandonment is something she has carried since childhood, but in the state of current womanhood, it wouldn't be uncommon. The work of women (especially mothers), particularly the emotional labor, is rather invisible and not valued at all.
But again, this is something she has used as fuel to resent her kids, who, at the end of the day, didn't ask to be here. Her anger has to go somewhere since she cannot direct it toward the people that ctually caused it. To get to the point:
THE BEARZATTO SYBLING DYNAMIC
Carmy said, "You are not alone; I am here with you." (This kind of comes back to telling Syd she was not alone at the end of the season.) This scene is about a kid trying to communicate to his mother that he loves her and trying desperately to connect with her, to get her to express her affection for him as well.
It tells me that growing up, he felt like he had to "earn" her affection. Donna likes to make her kids feel guilty about her unhappiness, so the kids feel that they are constantly walking on shells because they think their mother hates them, or at least that she resents them and that it is their responsibility to fix it.
In the scene, Carmy asked,
"What is so hard, Mom?"
I think what he was actually asking is, "What is so hard about being with us, to love us? What did we do to you that made you resent us this way?" He is asking because he wants to know, to finally understand. Why do you drink, Mom? Why do you yell? Why do you say such hurtful things?
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When she answers, "Nobody makes things beautiful for me," you can see in his face the disconnection. He knows he can't do anything about that.
Then, a crucial part in the scene occurs when Donna calls him "Michael, " which indicates that the only one of her children who could make her feel happy was Michael, or at least that is how the other two kids felt. You can see the hurt in Carmy's eyes in the scene because this answer dismisses his effort to connect to his mother in his own right. She asks him to just leave. He offers to wait to connect with her. Then, it comes to the most chilling moment on the scene, the "we have a problem" using his full name, with resentment in every word. She hugs him while crying, kisses him, and then slaps him.
This is rejection. There is a book called "The Five Wounds of the Soul": wich are Rejection, Abandonment, Humiliation, Betrayal, and Injustice. I think Carmy's wound is rejection, for never earning his mother's love, particularly comparing himself to Michael.
Michael took responsibility for the Beef, finally giving their mom a break. It was Michael's job to make sure everyone was having a good time, to compensate for the discomfort that caused being in Donna's presence, to make sure all of them stayed as a family, which was Donna's intention, so Michael thought he had to make that happen for her. Therefore, Michael is the only one of her kids who succeeds and makes her happy. We know Donna rejects Natalie and Carmy. About Natalie, we can write another whole essay.
THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIVES
According to this scene, I think Carmy thinks that her mother didn't love him because he is not Michael; in fact, he is the most "not like Michael" someone could be. He was shy and stuttered and didn't have friends or girlfriends, comparable to Michael's ability to control every room he was in. Carmy was sensible and no macho alfa as Michael presented himself to be. Carmy left home and the family business, and both Michael and Donna expressed that they feel like he thinks he is better than them. Michael admitted later to admiring Carmy's work in Copenhagen, but Donna never did. carmy grew up having to live with the crumbles of Donna's attention that Michael left behind, wondering every day what was so wrong with him that made her reject him, and wondering what he could do to change that.
The lie that Carmy belives, could be sumarize this way:
I need to earn people's love. I need to always go the extra mile, doing the most possible at all times to earn people's love.
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This all goes back to his trauma with Michael. It goes back to his career as a chef and how he became the best. He didn't need to succeed on a larger scale in the culinary industry to earn Michael's respect and love; he needed to be the best in the world, so he did that. He judges his own social abilities, comparing them to Miachae's. He left that promising career only because of Michae's death. He got the girlfriend Michael wanted for him (not saying it was the only reason, but it was there).
PART 2: WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS HAD TO DO WITH SYDNEY?
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Well, what does a person who feels they always need to do the most? They do the most. I want to bring you back to the moments Carmy had to develop menu ideas with Syd on s1 and s2.
When Syd suggested items for the menu in s1, he gave her an inconclusive, not enthusiastic "maybe."
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When she had to actually cook the thing for him to approve, he tried to make her feel small about it. He felt the need to remind her that she was "impatient and green," according to her previous bosses. He commented about her possibly ruining the flow by using time to cook her recipe. Yikes all around, but the core here is that he was treating her like an enemy, like competition, while she was trying to save the restaurant with what they had on hand to use the most efficient solution.
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Then, when Carmy tries the dish and feels stunned by it, he has to make an ambiguous excuse on the fly and just finishes every chance of them using the recipe by saying, "is not ready yet"
And what does he do next? He goes to show the crew a recipe that is extremely complicated for the level they are operating at currently—they said so themselves. I think the recipe is a variation of Donna's butter chicken recipe. To put a nail on that coffin of his intentions to earn her love and approval at the end of it all.
But why does he do all this? Because he needs to be the hero, subconsciously, he is still that small kid begging for acceptance and love; he must go the extra mile. He cannot accept Sydney's help and partnership, because that will take away from him earning what he wants on his own merit.
In S2, he seems unenthusiastic about starting the menu in the first place. Then Claire comes along, and he tries to make it work with Syd and the menu, but I think he subconsciously thanks the universe for not having to go to his core wound. That is what self-sabotage is. That is why he bailed on the food tour with Syd, using such a stupid excuse as helping somebody else move out and never mentioning it again. He never asked her what she liked or what ideas she thought of. For most of the creative process, Syd is alone, working on her own creative crisis. The menu ends up being like two recipes they made in collaboration and then all of his family's traditional recipes. It is two of Syd's recipes and the rest of Carmy's. Then, desserts Marcus did on his own. The collaboration was superficial at best.
All of this creates the core theme of the show. The Bear was once a chaotic place (like their childhood home) that needs to evolve into an efficient, peaceful place built on love, support, and mutual collaboration like a functional family should be. Sydney is the member of this found family that forces Carmy to confront his core wound and learn he can actually be good enough while still accepting help. Therapy probably will play an important part in this theme, alongside with Carmy learning there was nothing wrong with him in the first place, that earning your parent's love is not something a kid can do.
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Thankyou for reading. Gif and images are not mine.
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Halsin and Silvanus
In the course of my recent research on Bane for a lore request fill, I found myself coming across a lot of very interesting information, previously unknown to me, about the other gods of the Forgotten Realms — in particular Silvanus. There was enough there that it inspired me to direct some extra research hours into this writeup, exploring all the reasons why Halsin is a quintessential Silvanite.
If you would like any more information on anything included here, please feel free to drop a comment or an ask, as there is truly so much that I just don’t have the space to include. (I usually end up with about 12-13 pages of source quotes before I begin one of these meta posts.)
My usual note that, as ever, these writeups will align with current 5e lore, and draw from 3.5e for additional supporting information. On rarer occasions – and always noted – I will reference 1e and 2e, but with the caveats that there is much more in those editions that is tonally dissonant with the modern conception of the Forgotten Realms, and thus generally less applicable.
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Silvanus is easily one of the most misunderstood gods of the Faerûnian pantheon. This is even pointed out directly within his section of the 3.5e Faiths & Pantheons (an incredible resource if you are looking for more detailed information on the gods of the Forgotten Realms!): 
Nevertheless, most outsiders view the church of Chauntea, as patrons of agriculture, as being favorably inclined toward the expansion of civilization, while the church of Silvanus is the implacable foe of those who would settle new lands. Neither impression is correct, yet the church of the Oak Father is often perceived as little different from those faiths that venerate the Deities of Fury.¹ [emphasis added]
Silvanus is most often perceived as strictly and impassively neutral, and intrinsically opposed to civilization in all its forms. While the former is something close to true – he is a very neutral-aligned deity, albeit not necessarily in a way that matches the popular conception of the term – the latter is certainly not. Humanity (if you’ll forgive the use of the term to designate in broad strokes the non-animal denizens of the Material Plane) is another facet of nature, one given equal consideration to the rest – plant, animal, and other – by Silvanus.²
While as a whole followers of Silvanus have a preference for the wilds and the deep forests, this is by no means a concrete rule. In fact, Silvanite clergy – those known as druids – are not uncommonly found in enclaves in larger cities of the Sword Coast and beyond, including Waterdeep.² Typically these druids will “create gardenlike walled areas of wild forest within the city limits.”¹ Wherever they may find themselves, Silvanite druids work to maintain the Balance of nature around them, through education and direct action both. 
Silvanus’s dogma has much to tell us about his philosophy, and that of his followers. I’ll be splitting notable excerpts and their relation to Halsin into sections below. 
Hold your distance and take in the total situation, rather than latching on to the popular idea of what is best.¹ 
Halsin was, from the first moment I met him in-game, so notable for his calm self-possession, and the clear forethought he gave to his actions and those of others. He does not feel bound by the expectations or approval of others – as noted in the dialogue he shares with the player if they compliment his choice of successor – but instead makes his own path following the direction of Silvanus’s wisdom and will. 
Resort to violence and open confrontation only when pressured by time or hostile action.¹
This is showcased numerous times throughout the game, but perhaps best evidenced by an in-game note, from an unlikely source: the Priestess Gut. The note that you can find from her, regarding Halsin’s capture, notes the following: 
Said he thinks there's somethin' rotten inside us. Inside me. Reckons he can help get rid of the rot. I told him we don't need any help from nobody. Never did. And especially not now the Absolute's taken a shine to us.³
Despite the immediacy of his capture at their hands, and the preceding attack already lodged against himself and Nettie⁴, Halsin’s primary impulse is to attempt diplomacy, and render aid. This only changes when his length of captivity has made it clear that there will be no changing the minds of the cultists, and they must be dissuaded by stronger means.
Banish disease wherever you find it¹
The way Halsin is first introduced to the player is as a healer – and not just any healer, but a masterful one, known throughout the region, who has the best chance of being able to assist with any manner of strange ailment. It is clear in all ways, as well as in the scenario referenced in the preceding section, that this is an aspect of Silvanus that Halsin strives to embody at all times. 
Seek out, serve, and befriend the dryads and learn their names.¹
Particularly if we understand the reference to dryads here to extend to all fey spirits of nature, this gives new depth to Halsin’s friendship and devotion to the nature spirit Thaniel. Halsin, as a druid generally, and as an Archdruid in particular, would have a solemn and divinely-ordained responsibility to redress the upheaval of the Balance within the Shadowcursed lands. For that reason alone, it is no surprise that it was his primary motivation and consideration for nigh on a century. 
However, even above and beyond that, Halsin had an additional motivator. Even before he became a druid, potentially before he was exposed to the teachings of Silvanus in anything but the most vague and general of terms, he was living them out by befriending the local nature spirit, learning his name, and seeking to understand, serve, and protect him. 
Make others see the balance and work against those that would disturb it. Watch, anticipate, and quietly manipulate.¹
The primary source text I am using to draw this connection was written neither by nor about Halsin, yet I believe it still clearly reflects on him, for reasons that will become clear. This text is from a logbook recording activities of the Emerald Grove during the year 1371, 121 years prior to the start of the game’s storyline, and some years before the defining events in the soon-to-be Shadowcursed Lands. 
6 Uktar: Sent two druids, some of the newer recruits, up north. Village there has had two years of failed crops and are unlikely to survive the next winter. 9 Uktar: A group from Baldur's Gate arrived. They've set up camp on the edge of the forest. Two bears and a fox came by. Their territory has been burned out. Half the fox's cubs died. Paying this new group a visit tomorrow. 10 Uktar: Visit did not go well. After telling me where to shove it, they said they'd cut down half the forest and burn out any wildlife that dared to stick around. Claimed they were going to 'farm the land and make a new city of their own.' Time to get creative. 12 Uktar: Mudslide did the trick. Buried half their farming equipment and made the rest useless. They won't be back any time soon. Got reports of a Red Wizard in the village south of here. Sending three rangers to investigate. If they catch even a whiff of a red cloak, I'm contacting the House of Silvanus.⁵
Given the timeline, while this is unlikely to have been written by Halsin himself, it seems like a strong possibility that it was written by his master, the previous Archdruid of the Emerald Grove, who perished in the fight against Ketheric Thorm. This is supported by the clear evidence that the author was an individual in a position to give direction and command to those around them, and to make the call for how to deal with various situations. Given too what we know of the druidic leadership structure, Halsin would have been the previous Archdruid’s Second, as Kagha was his.⁶ 
This man, then, would have greatly influenced Halsin as a druid of Silvanus and as a leader both. We can presume that this watchful duty and deliberation was one that Halsin himself took over, charged with doing his part to maintain the Balance of the region around the grove.  This last point especially becomes even more significant in light of the following information, which comes not from Silvanus’s dogma, but rather from a description of his followers and traditions of worship: 
Members of the clergy work to redirect development and control populations through covert sponsorship of brigands, breeding and selective placing of predators, and other means. It is essential that such work be as secretive as possible, so that most folk view the servants of Silvanus as essentially benign lovers of trees. Wildlife breeding, nursing sick animals, and replanting trees and wild shrubs are all work that should be done as publicly as possible to support this perception – and as necessary work to redress the slipping Balance, of course.¹ [emphasis added]
It is clear from all preceding evidence, and this excerpt in particular, that the druids as a whole put far more thought and strategy into every aspect of their appearance and the perception of them than they would ever want outsiders to become aware of. Halsin himself corroborates this in-game, noting that, while druids might not like politicking, that certainly does not mean they haven’t the skill for it when called upon. 
For the sake of… well. (I have been advised by my legal counsel not to use “brevity” here.) Regardless! For the sake of my sanity and your time, I will refrain from going into further detail on specific instances that show this to be true of Halsin. I will merely encourage you, the reader, to consider the value this brings to his character and druids as a whole, and hope to encourage new appreciation for their refreshing complexity. 
In closing, I leave you with one final quote: 
Superior patience, natural knowledge, and anticipation are the hallmarks of a worthy servant of Silvanus.¹
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¹ Faiths and Pantheons. 2002. p. 63.
² Dragon Magazine #412. June 2012. pp. 22-3.
³ Rancid Note. In-Game Text. 
⁴ Halsin’s Journal, Vol I. In-Game Text. 
⁵ Logbook XII: 1371. In-Game Text. 
⁶ Grove Annals. In-Game Text.
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sevilai · 7 months
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Auuhg okay I'm caving and posting these
Very shortly after I made This Piece my brain took it and ran with it into an entire AU! I wanted to make a kind of introduction post to the concept, but I think I know myself well enough to know that waiting will just end in my never doing it lol So I'll just talk about it here!
This AU is based around the idea that instead of using void to defeat the Radiance, the king's plan was instead to raise an army of godlings. Not empty vessels meant to contain her, but vessels of holy light meant to literally outshine her.
They're a little different biologically of course. They are perfect unions of godly power unmarred by void. They look more like you'd expect and behave more like you'd expect; they speak, they feel, they have a will of their own. They share both their parents incandescence. They're a bit strange, most of them seeming aloof or detached, like their minds are always somewhere else. It’s thought amongst castle staff that the godly light within them gives them access to a higher plane of thought, one that’s far more intriguing to them than any mortal woes.
They also seem to have inherited a particular, special ability from their father(which is a special tool we'll use later!)
This the first vessel of the army, the firstborn of the royal family. With the sheer number of vessels born, the king gave up on naming them all, but holding this hatchling in his hands, he knew that this child would be Worthwhile. Also known as Worthy, Double, or much to their dismay, Father's Favorite. They know well their purpose and they are proud to lead their siblings as their commander.
Honestly my story for this AU centers a little more around Ghost and Hornet, but I have a lot of THOUGHTS and FEELINGS about all the other vessels as they grew up and I want to explore it more! I do have more art and MUCH more lore but I'll save it for later posts.
I'll be tagging everything about it as the "Outshine AU" as I work with it!
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yazthebookish · 8 months
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I loved all of what Sarah highlighted in her interview today and I'll elaborate a bit especially on the romance part:
In Maas’ fantasy worlds, love interests often exist as fated “mates,” with invisible strings between them that are powerful and often poetic. Readers can see the literary metaphors, like complementary powers between two characters. But other times, there are no metaphors, with their connection initially seeming random.
She's too attached to the mate trope and I like that she gives us different cases and scenarios for it, otherwise it'll be boring.
“Sometimes, I will write a scene with two characters that I’ve planned for them to get together, and then they have no …” She shakes her head slightly at me. “It’s like holding two dolls and being like, now kiss! And they won’t. … And then sometimes a different character will walk in and they will just” — she snaps.
I yelled at this part because it's as if she plucked the scene from Azriel's bonus chapter and used it as an example. Those parallels between Elain and Gwyn are intentional. It doesn't mean Elain is bad it's just their dynamic doesn't work as a couple and it was obvious to the author. I know she didn't specify who this was about but like, come on, who tried to kiss and which character showed up in a bonus chapter after that depressing scene and gave a glimmer of hope?
“It feels like magic in a way where, as much as I tried to plot out things years in advance, I let my characters guide a story. And they usually wind up with the people that they need to be with and who offer them the most growth and joy.”
I love this so much and allow me to speak about my favorite ship and its because the snippets we saw of Az and Gwyn together especially in the bonus chapter brought out a lighter version of Az. His scenes with Gwyn were light-hearted and the bonus chapter ends on a hopeful note for them. It's hard to deny that connection between them whether you theorize she's luring him or they're mates, those theories wouldn't exist if she had no ties to him (she's in his own chapter like come on).
I go the philosophical route with my next question: We’re talking about fate here, but at what point is a character the agent of their own fate? What happens if someone rejects their mate? (Listen, if I were Fae and I didn’t like my mate, whatever God chose for me is not my business.)
People are jumping the gun and assume this example is set to be Elucien but... we have Helion and Lady of Autumn likely being an example of a tragic rejected mates story (if you read ACOWAR and their history it's obvious they're mates). Maybe it's Mor and Eris and that's the secret that ties them to each other. We have other characters from other series too.
For a convincing mate rejection story in my opinion, it needs more than one book or it's a case that we see with side characters where we can see their history and the long-term implications of a rejected bond.
It's too easy of a story to have one person's central conflict be the words "no I reject you" and they're done. Again, this is not exclusive to ACOTAR but also her other series.
“That’s something I find to be very interesting,” she replies. “What if the forces that be put you with the wrong person? Or what if you just decide, eh, I’m not interested. … There’s a lot to explore within the concept of mates and your agency about it.
The concept of agency is something many readers in the fandom discussed especially when it comes to mating bonds and there were arguments on (would Rhys fell for Feyre if she wasn't his mate or would have Cassian fell for Nesta if she wasn't his mate). We know that some mates don't work out but stay together because their dynamic is unhealthy (Rhys's and Tamlin's parents). We got examples of a loveless mating bond already.
We also saw that Nesta didn't immediately accept the term "mate" because it would mean cutting off her last tether with humanity. It's not a matter of "you're my mate" "yes I'll be with you", the dynamic between the mated couple is important to explore.
“I’m not going to say if I am exploring it in future books or not,” she continues, “but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”
This part aligns with what I think about Elucien. We never had a mated pairing who knew they were mates but are not in love with each other. Every mated couple found out they're mates when they were already in love.
Can a destined love turn into true love? Or do you settle for a destined love without love being in the equation. Love wasn't in the equation for Rhys's parents, but love was the equation for Feysand and Nessian. Elucien was left unexplored for a reason and both Elain and Lucien view each other by label "mate", they didn't have a chance to get to know each other. So it's going to be very interesting to see them navigate their feelings for each other despite the mating bond.
I didn't expect her to elaborate a lot on this but I love that she did and I hope in future interviews she gives us more good bits about her writing and examples of the decisions she took for some characters and couples.
Didn't expect this post to be long but happy reading! I'm still reeling from HOFAS 🥲
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laterreurofficial · 2 months
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I am personally obsessed with (and relate a lot to) transfemme Adrien hc. You mentioned something with Adrien and Alix being parallels, gender-wise… I’m curious about what you meant by that! Adrien being trans or gnc is by no means necessary (though it would make me very happy), but I’m just curious as to what Adrien’s journey is when it comes to identity. Thanks and I hope you have a lovely day! :D
WIS HERE AGAIN!!! I will admit that that aspect of identity was merely something silu and I threw around, so there's no guarantee that it will be explored aside from like, background flavoring here and there.
What I meant is essentially, Adrien and Alix occupy a sort of middle space, but within that are opposites of each other.
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This was born out of a conversation with silu where we discuss like.. transmasc-ish Adrien? He's dealing with the aftereffects of an egomaniac mother who he was born to be the spitting image of. He's thrust into a world of strict beauty standards and forced to perform, must be seen and not heard, obey without question. He's adapted into learned helplessness and 'not thinking' in order to survive, he's born to not act, not want for more. He has no more personhood to his father than a vase of white lilies set on a table.
Alix, on the other hand, is nothing but action. As Adrien is repressed to be demure, Alix is repressed to be stoic—She is the only surviving soldier in a war that never ends, forced to battle in a conflict where nothing ever happens and it must all stay that way. She is treated by others as infallible and is forced to only rely on herself. Alix is fueled by an anger and a grief for the life she wasn't allowed to live, but she isn't able to acknowledge the emotions as such: Alix doesn't have emotions, because emotions are weakness. She denies herself any more personhood that a cog in a machine, never stopping, always acting.
....Of course, I will couch this by saying this is wisteriasymphony's thoughts on the matter. As the lead concept writer, a lot of my little tangents into ideas often go unexplored if not entirely revised over. There were talks of an Alix comic in the works, and this section of Adrien's character being explored in a much later Chloe comic. I can't guarantee anything, because the group and silu have the final and extra-final say respectively.
vv everything said stupider under the cut vv
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lebrookestore · 10 months
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sixteen | l.dh [part i]
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Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader
Themes: strangers to lovers, highschool! au, coming of age, lovers to exes, exes to lovers to ??, producer! donghyuck (very lightly explored), roommates! au but with a twist, second chance romance, slowburn, angst, fluff, romance, PG 15. (moodboards: i | ii)
Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, drug use, smoking (vaping, cigarettes and weed consumptions), crude humour, teenagers doing dumb shit as teenagers do, cheating, betrayal.
Word count: 21.6k
Summary: Youth is always accompanied with a fragile glimmer of hope, with you and Donghyuck viewing the world through the rosiest of glasses. But as the ephemeral days of teenage foolishness bleed into the harshness of adulthood, the rosy hue begins to diminish, and you learn that for some people, it just isn’t meant to be.
Playlist: here 
Notes from brooke: hello hi, it's been literally over a year since i posted a full length fic so view this one as something of a peace offering for my inacitivity. it fully started out as a joke drabble concept i thought of out of the blue one day but as i always do, i got carried away and here we are with another angst monster 😭 i wanted to post it as a oneshot but tumblr is a bitch as usual, so here's part one. there were a lot of complications with this fic, but i'm extremely proud of how it turned out and it took a lot of hard work and time to get done so i'm really fucking nervous to put this out there lmao but i hope you guys like it and if so please leave some feedback!! (format of this fic is heavily inspired by forever, interrupted by taylor jenkins reid)
➳ read part ii here!!
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prologue – then.
There was something enchanting about the boy with the headphones at the back of the class.
You didn’t think you had seen him before today, which was noteworthy considering your town's excruciatingly small geography. The students in your class were the same ones you had gone to preschool with, and you hadn’t seen a new face within the four yellowed walls of your classroom for all the sixteen years you had lived.
This begged the question - who was this foreign yet beguiling creature that took up one of the ever-sought-out back benches of the dull classroom you inhabited every day of the week? Moreover, you wondered how he had the audacity to have his listen to music while the class was in session.
“Miss L/n?”
Snapping your head back to the front, you bit the inside of your cheek to top yourself from visibly cringing at the shrill voice of your teacher, who was presently eyeing you with an extremely disapproving expression. Much to your displeasure, all eyes were on you within seconds of that unfortunate moment, making you wish you could sink further into the wooden seat you currently occupied.
“Yes?” The moment the word left your mouth, you regretted it. Faking ignorance had never been your strong point, and it wasn’t about to come through for you now.
“Would you like to tell me what you find so interesting at the back or answer the question I just asked?”
You desperately hoped no one could see the warmth infiltrating your cheeks as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, shaking your head as solemnly as possible.
“Sorry Ma’am.”
The teacher shook her head in retirement, as if she was used to picking on you, and moved on to picking on another student, leaving you to slouch in your seat and let out a sigh of relief. You had always hated being the centre of attention, especially in embarrassing situations such as this one, and recovering from them gracefully– just like your non-existent nonchalance– wasn’t in your skillset either
You looked to your side at your classmate who delivered the answer with ease, looking frankly quite bored as she did so. It was the topper of the class– Eunsook– the girl that always seemed to be ahead of everyone else in every class possible. Her words blurred together as your eyes once again wandered to a certain stranger in the back.
Except for this time, he was looking right back at you.
This was somehow much worse than being put on the spot by your teacher, because this? This meant you had been caught on a much more personal level. 
And then, as if to make things even worse, the side of his mouth quirked upwards in acknowledgement of you, and he brought a hand up to your view, waving it a little in your direction.
Positively horrified, you immediately looked away and made a mental note to never glance in his direction ever again, deciding that pretending to be paying attention in class was a good enough cover-up. 
However, this proved to be quite the task, partly due to the fact that economics wasn’t the most exciting subject, and because his face had been imprinted in your mind, from the intensity of his stare to the slightest of smiles that danced on his lips while he looked at you as if you had amused him in some way.
Your teacher's frown deepened upon seeing the interaction and she cleared her throat, giving you a pointed look. 
Brilliant. 
“Mr Lee, please stand up.”
Oh thank god, it wasn’t you this time. Maybe you had just been imagining her looking at you.
You heard the scraping of the chair legs against the wooden floors and glanced over in its direction, only to realise that it was him she had been called upon.
Well. At least this time you had a good reason to be staring.
It gave you the opportunity to truly take him in all at once, rather than in the pathetic little increments you had to previously resort to throughout the class, sneaking a peek here and there. You studied the boy– dark brown hair that fell into his eyes, which currently wore a look of mild annoyance, striking features etched into his honeyed skin and–
Oh.
He was really cute. 
“Would you care to explain why you were distracting Miss L/n?”
Fuck. You had been naive to think that you would have been let off the hook so easily, especially by this particular teacher. If you had caught her attention for the wrong reason even once, you would be the one she put on the spot for the rest of the class, and this time you had the displeasure of being her guinea pig. The worst part about it was that it was absolutely your fault.
Once again, his line of sight travelled to you, before flickering back up at the oh-so-despised teacher and shaking his head.
“It won’t happen again.”
His voice cut through the expectant silence of class and right through you, deep and with a certain patronising lilt to it. It was a stupid thought, but you thought that it suited him perfectly. A pretty voice to compliment a pretty face. 
“It better not,” the teacher warned sternly. “Since the opportunity has so conveniently arisen for us, I will now introduce you to the rest. Students, this is Donghyuck, and he’s new to the class.”
A pregnant pause hung in the air for a moment before she motioned for him to sit back down. 
Just as she was about to resume her teaching, the bell rang and saved you from any further humiliation. The rustle of books closing and backpacks being unzipped carried through the room, and you joined in, collecting your things and getting to your feet in preparation to leave. 
The light patter of footsteps closened in, followed by a voice. “Hey.”
You looked up from arranging your books, fingers digging into the material of your bag when you realised it was him who had approached you in all his glory– this time up close. It also gave you the opportunity to take note of his outfit, a graphic shirt lazily tucked into jeans, and although it was nothing special, somehow the air he held made it seem a lot more special than it was.
Like something about him made the ordinary feel extraordinary.
“Hello,” You managed to get out, putting a hold on that thought as you met his gaze for the third time. Immediately you regretted not having cleared your throat first, despising the hoarse undertone that accompanied the singular word you had uttered. You had hoped that your second impression would surpass the first, that being extremely unfavourable, but it seemed like the world was not on your side when it came to this boy.
This new, mysterious boy you had no right to be so oddly fixated on. A smile painted itself upon his mouth as he did a once over of you, causing you to feel as if the pale blue shirt you had worn that day was much too hot under the collar, and you had to resist the urge to reach up and unbutton the top to cool yourself down. You wished you could tie your hair up among other things, and tucked your hands behind your back, playing with the hair tie you always kept on your right wrist nervously, expelling some of that anxious energy that had invaded your body while keeping him in the dark about it.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Donghyuck.”  His name sounded infinitely better when he pronounced it, its two syllables ringing in your ears. Nodding carelessly, you lifted your backpack off from the table and slung one strap over your shoulder.
“I heard.”
That answer earned you an expectant raise of his eyebrow.
Right. It seemed that the manners your mother had drilled into your very psyche had finally come to fruition as you realised he was waiting for you to introduce yourself back.
“I’m Y/n.” Your fingernails dug into the strap of your bag, the sweat accumulating in the palm of your hand brushing off against it. This position was one you had never been in before, nerves all over the place over an attractive stranger, but his unabashedness had unnerved you immensely, leaving you with no choice but to grasp for your words. “It’s…nice to meet you too.”
If the option of the ground opening up beneath your feet and swallowing you whole was available, you would have taken it without any hesitation. You detested the awkward pause you had inserted in the middle of your statement, it made you sound flighty and moronic, as if you couldn’t put together basic conversation phrases.
He didn’t seem to mind though, the slightest twitch of his lips being the only indication that he had noticed your scatterbrained state– an indication you had missed on your end. 
“I’ll see you around.”
And just like that, he sauntered off. You watched as his figure retreated through the doorway as you stood there, dumbfounded at the nature of the interaction. More importantly, a singular question lingered in your mind, the question of how he had managed to get away with using his headphones in class.
It would go unanswered.
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i] now.
There was something so distinctly you about the woman that sat across Donghyuck.
He focused on the different items displayed on the menu he held in front of him, refraining from glancing at the woman for the third time in thirty seconds. He was supposed to have chosen what he wanted to order a solid five minutes ago, but his composure had been completely thrown off and decision fatigue was quickly setting in.
“I’ll have the steak.”
Her name was Kim Yeonmi, twenty-four in age just like him and very pretty. An elegant dark blue dress donned her figure, her dark, wispy hair tied up into a bun with a few strands of hair let loose at the sides to effectively frame her face. Perhaps it was a little too much to have a first date at a fancy restaurant such as this, with its ostentatious ambience, but he wasn’t too sure of how dating worked at all. 
There was just one person he had experience with.
She looked like she was enjoying the extravagance though, bobbing her head to his choice as she gave the menu another once over. “Just give me another minute.”
He smiled politely. “Take as much time as you need.”
She looked nothing like you, but the way she muttered the names of each dish back to herself under her breath had thrown him back in time, reminding him of how you used to do the very same. 
“It makes it easier to choose when I say them out loud”, you had explained one day to him. “The one that sounds better is the one you pick.”
A foolproof strategy according to you, one you defended with all your might no matter how many times he teased you about it being ridiculous. He recalled the way you’d glare at him, hands resting low on your hips and an exasperated look on your face, the one he had grown so fond of. It was something he’d tease you about, how he loved the pissed-off look you’d give him even though he was the culprit for its showing pretty much every time. 
He missed the dish Yeonmi finally settled on, snapped out of his thoughts and nodded, gesturing the waiter over to place the order. When it came to her order, he let her speak for herself, a good save.
He had to get his act together. 
“So,” he began, leaning back a little in his seat in an attempt to relax. “What do you do, Yeonmi?”
The woman took a sip of the wine that they had previously ordered before answering, “I work in finance.”
The information barely latched into his memory, an absent-minded nod from his end to make it look like he was genuinely listening. Like he wasn’t observing the delicate messiness of her hairdo– messiness that was clearly intentional, done for the illusion of being effortless. It reminded him of how your hair always seemed to be half out of your ponytail, but it shouldn’t have, because that had never been intentional. 
Donghyuck didn’t like the way your memory haunted him so insistently at such an inconvenient time, and he didn’t understand why it did either.
“I’m a music producer,” he informed her, a simper making a show on his face at the mention of his occupation. It was a thing of pride for him, the amount of work he had put in to say those words in the same sentence as the word ‘successful’ was astronomical, but it had all been worth it in the end. Music had been his life's blood ever since he was a child and the fact that he now was able to work with it every day and it was the reason he could take care of his mother meant the world to him. 
New York baby, it made dreams flicker to life. The move he made at merely eighteen had been the best decision he had ever made.
It hadn’t come without its sacrifices though. After all, no risk, no reward.
The food arrived, piping hot and delicious enough to act as an excuse for his distant demeanour. He was present enough to make light conversation, doing his best to store all the little bits of information about Yeonmi in the back of his mind on the off chance of this first date turning into a few more. 
And maybe, hopefully, he’d be less of an ass about them. Maybe this could go somewhere.
The two walked out of the restaurant, Donghyuck holding the door open for her while she exited. A light pattering of pink dusted the woman's cheeks at his consistent shows of gentlemanliness, but it went wholly unnoticed by him, who refused to let her catch a cab from the busy streets of the city, and insisted he drop her back to her place of residence.
How could one not fall for Lee Donghyuck when he was just so charming even when he didn’t intend to be?
Pop songs played at a low volume through the radio, the typical ones that played on a Friday evening to make the daily evening commute a little easier for those coming back from their workplaces, but heightened by the fact that the weekend was at large. The ride was a pleasant one, the music allowing the silences in conversation to be comfortable. Yeonmi snuck a shy glance at Donghyuck through the rearview mirror, noticing the way his long eyelashes framed his eyes that were focused on the road before them. 
His fingers drummed on the steering wheel rhythmically, humming along the song that played as Yeonmi spoke about how she had been obsessed with that very one a few weeks ago. She seemed to be infinitely better at traversing the treacherous waters of conversation, seemingly not even noticing how withdrawn he seemed to be. 
Her chattering also reminded him of you, though a little less interesting. It was a tad comical, how he had the audacity to compare every little thing about her to the one person he had pushed away. 
“That’s my apartment complex.”
He parked the car and got out of it, circled the vehicle to get on her side, and opened the door for her, causing a pleased smile to appear on Yeonmi’s face. Then, he walked her up to the lobby of the building, exchanging pleasantries and goodbyes with a muttering of a hopeful ‘see you again’ thrown into the mix for good measure. 
And with that, she was gone, and Donghyuck was alone once again. The sky was a dark blue, splattered with a few glimmering stars amidst its midnight canvas, the moon hiding behind the misty clouds. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers and let out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding in, shutting his eyes and counting slowly to ten.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
It had been eight years.
Eight years since he had let go of you, opened the palm of his hand and watched as yours slipped right through his fingers. Sometimes, he could still feel the ghost of your skin linger on his fingertips. 
Eight years was a hell of a lot of time, and time was said to heal all wounds. Time should have let him focus on his date instead of thinking of you and the little habits you had that had burned themselves into his memory. 
Time was a fucking liar. 
It was pathetic really. He had managed to not think of you for six of those years, save for the occasional moments when he had had one too many drinks and the alcohol had scrounged up cherished moments of the two of you from the vault of his mind. 
But he was completely and utterly sober right now, almost too sober, he thought, for the wine he had consumed earlier hadn’t done much at all. The cold air nipped at the exposed skin of his face and face, grounding him to reality with its sudden harshness, another reminder that too much time had passed for him to be doing this. He had let go of the right to do so. 
And yet, he found himself thinking of the only girl he had ever loved that windy Friday eve, her smiling face washed into the indigo skies.
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The scent of a corporate office clung to your clothes, carrying itself with you as you inserted your keys into the lock of your door, twisted them, and pushed them open to reveal the solace of your apartment. You entered, slipped off your shoes and trudged into the living room where you flopped down on your couch, letting your muscles fully relax for the first time in eight hours. 
“Y/n? Are you home?”
Lifting your head limply, you let your eyelids flutter open to peek over the backrest of the sofa, only to be met with your roommate standing there in the doorway of the kitchen, a smile seemingly stuck onto her made-up face. “Oh, it is you! How was work?”
You gave yourself a second to admire her handiwork from where you were sat (read: sprawled out), wishing you had the ability to do a perfect winged liner as she could. 
“Tiring,” you complained with a sigh, feeling as if your bones were going to disintegrate into dust any moment.
She tutted sympathetically, retreating back into the kitchen. You heard the water running for a few seconds, and then she emerged again, walking over to you and handing you a glass of water. “Poor thing.”
Kim Yeonmi had been your roommate for the last two years, ever since a mutual friend of yours put the two of you in contact when you had been searching for accommodation after college that fits your budget. She was a warm person, sweet and helpful whenever she could be, and the two of you had hit it off from the moment you moved in, the arrangement blossoming into a fruitful friendship for the both of you. 
“Bless you,” you took a sip of the water, straightening up your position to give her space beside you. She had even remembered to add a few ice cubes, the cool liquid revived your tired senses and cleared your mind. 
She sat down, tucking her legs under herself as she reached out her hand, resting it on the top of your head and rubbing it comfortingly. You leaned into her touch, closed your eyes and savoured the quiet moment of solitude– the first one you have had today.
Then you opened your eyes and turned to her.
“So how was it?”
A bashful smile decorates her crimson-painted lips as she averted her gaze from you in an attempt to hide the flush that was quickly making itself known on her face. She cleared her throat, answering in the most casual and non-committal way she could. “Good.”
You snickered at her response to your simple question, “Seems like it was more than just ‘good’.”
“Well….”
Yeonmi sighed, leaning back into the cushions properly as she got comfortable and thats how you knew you had her. 
“Come on, give me the details!” You disregarded your fatigue, slapping her arm playfully to convince her to spill. She laughed at your eagerness, a laugh that was laced with girlish merriment, and rubbed the back of her neck, the smile on her face not slipping from its place even once. 
“It was amazing,” she confessed, much to your delight. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever had such a great date.”
You had witnessed her stressing over this date of hers since yesterday and had caught glimpses of her nerves this morning before you left for work. To help ease those nerves, you had helped pick out her outfit, made sure to respond to every one of her manic texts to you between work and called her back during your break. You were overjoyed that it had gone well for her.
This was the first date she had gone on in an entire year after her last relationship had come to an end. It was a messy breakup, leaving you with an extremely shaken Yeonmi who, in her grief, had vowed to never love someone again. Thankfully, that phase was one she got over quickly, and you were proud of how she had managed to heal and put herself out there once again.
God knows you had tried and failed.
She began describing her evening, starting with how her extremely charming date had already been waiting at the restaurant they had agreed upon. She had met this man on a dating app- the name of which she refused to tell you unless it turned out to be more than just a dead end, and after a few weeks of talking, they had finally decided to go on a date, something she had been anticipating for a while now. You listened, squealing and giggling along with her at the appropriate times to reciprocate her evident excitement. 
“And you know what was so cute?” She continued, talking a little faster now that she had warmed up and was in the thick of describing the date. “He seemed a little distracted like he was just as nervous as I was about the entire thing, and that just put me to ease, you know? A suave guy is nice and all, and don’t get me wrong, he was confident, but that slight nervousness showed me that he liked me as well.” 
Her gushing was endearing, and you nodded with a smile. “He sounds perfect.”
“Oh he’s an absolute dreamboat Y/n, seriously, I don’t know where or how I managed to stumble upon him, but I must have done something good in my past life to deserve this.”
You placed your now empty glass on the little table next to the couch, settling in closer to her. “You always do good, you had this good karma coming.”
“Oh I forgot to tell you the best part,” She looked at you with a serious look on her face, but her eyes were practically twinkling. “He likes Taylor Swift. He was singing along to her songs when he dropped me home.”
Your jaw dropped. “Now I know he really is perfect.” You grinned, the expression quickly morphing into a yawn as your exhaustion finally caught up to you again, and in good timing, considering she had finished talking about her date. She looked over at the clock and then back at you. 
“You should go to bed, you’ve had a long day.”
You wholeheartedly agreed with this suggestion, stood up on your feet and stretched your arms out above your head. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna call it a night here.” Picking up your bag that had been strewn out across the floor, you walked to the doorway that led to your room, before turning around and facing her once again. 
“Hey, one last thing.”
She gazed up at you in the midst of removing her earrings and hummed in acknowledgement, “Hmm?”
“What’s his name?”
“Huh?”
“You never told me his name,” You shook your head in amusement. “I think you were too caught up in all your excitement.” For the past half an hour, she had just been referring to him in only pronouns, something you had just realised. 
“Oh,” her lips formed an ‘o’ shape in surprise at herself. “Donghyuck. His name is Lee Donghyuck.”
And just like that, your entire world fell apart.
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It's funny how a simple name can knock the air out of your lungs.
That was an understatement. That name– his name– was anything but simple. The three syllables that constituted it stood for so much, things said and left unsaid, buried in the grave of your mind.
The unadulterated shock you felt at the name she uttered caused your already aching legs to feel even more unstable than they did, and your knees nearly gave out underneath you. You steadied yourself by leaning against the doorframe, a shaky breath escaping your lips as an emotion that you hadn’t felt so strongly in a very long time ripped through you. 
Despair.
No. No, it couldn’t be–
For a moment, you could almost see his eyes looking at you, one moment with such affection and the next with more sorrow than you could ever begin to describe. I’m sorry.
“Y/n?”
You gripped the doorframe, feeling as if the rug had been swept from right under your feet, and focused your eyes on Yeonmi on the couch, who was now staring at you in concern. “Are you okay?”
How many times had you lied while answering this question when it came to him? You had lost count, so there wouldn’t be any harm in doing it once more. Sucking in a harsh gulp of air that hit the back of your throat, you forced a smile. “Yep. Goodnight.”
You choked out the words, spun on your heel and stumbled to your door, grabbing and twisting the doorknob in haste, your entire body weight leaning on the door as it swung open. Practically tripping over your own feet, you shut it quickly, both hands fastened to the knob as you rested your forehead against the door, using it as support for your body that suddenly seemed several pounds heavier.
It had been eight years since you had heard another person say his name, the sound of it cutting through reality itself, digging into your skin and latching onto it. Perhaps that was the cause of excess weight that seemed to drag you down at the very moment. 
Fuck.
You took a minute to wonder what God was sitting above and laughing at your sorry state.
Using the door behind your back as a guide, you slid down to the ground, pulling your knees closer to your chest and interlocking your fingers in front of them, forming your very own cocoon. You pathetically hoped that it would shield you from the torrent of your own emotions.
Rationally speaking, this was most definitely a coincidence. You were sure that there were several people around the world with the first name ‘Donghyuck’ and last name ‘Lee’ – after all, it was a pretty common last name to have. The chances of this guy, Yeonmi’s perfect dreamy date being your Donghyuck were extremely improbable.
Your Donghyuck. You almost laughed bitterly. He hadn’t been your Donghyuck for a long, long time. 
You didn’t know if he had ever truly been yours to begin with. 
I’m so sorry, Y/n.
You closed your eyes and tried to steady your breathing, only to snap them open immediately when the image of his eyes once again rippled through the forefront of your mind.
This was ridiculous, you knew, the extremity of your reaction was wholly uncalled for. It had been eight years and one would think you would have been better at controlling your emotions, especially when it came to something, someone, that was so heavily stuck in the past.
It turned out that you were also stuck in the past. The way your legs resembled those of a newborn giraffe a few minutes ago was enough proof of that.
A groan escaped you, one that was a mix of frustration and distress. You couldn’t quite place the new ache that had emerged in your chest, a dull throb that felt icy cold, yet strangely familiar. You reasoned with yourself, your thoughts waging a silent war among each other as you laid out all the reasons why it couldn’t and wouldn’t be the man that lingered in your life like a poltergeist you didn’t have the energy to exercise. 
You could hear the soft padding of Yeonmi's footsteps outside your door as she made her way to her own room and the soft click of her lock as she retired for the night. Slowly, you let yourself relax and mentally gather all the strength you possessed right then to pick yourself up from the ground and carry yourself to your bed, the usually short walk feeling like a thousand steps away. The soft cotton sheets welcomed your weary body, alleviating the weight that currently sat upon your shoulders and providing you with some temporary relief.
It was late, and it never did anyone any good to think about things beyond their control in the intimidating silence of the night. Letting your eyes close for real this time, you turned onto your side and tried to quiet your mind.
But there was still a small part of you that thought back to then.
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ii] then.
He liked cookies-and-cream flavoured ice cream.
You gripped the complimentary wooden spoon that came with the cup of ice cream you bought from the convenience store, staring at the slightly melted ice cream that you held with your other hand. Donghyuck was just about done with his, a triumphant smile creeping up on his face every time he glanced at you.
“I told you.”
“Don’t gloat.”
“But your reactions are so cute,” he teased, taking another spoonful of his ice cream. Your biology class had a pop quiz that day, and Donghyuck had tried to help you with an answer you weren’t too sure about. However, his answer sounded even more incorrect than yours, and he made you promise to buy him ice cream if he ended up being correct. “I told you the right answer but no, you insisted you were right and lost the mark.”
The compliment stung a little, or perhaps that was just the summer heat prickling the back of your neck.
“I’m not affected by that,” you huffed, “I’m wondering why you chose such cheap ice cream of all the ones you could have. We just got it and mine’s already melting.”
He shrugged. “It’s not the ice cream that matters, just the fact that you had to buy it for me to symbolise me being right.”
“But there's a Häagen-Dazs right down the street. Sakura and Chenle would have immediately made me buy them that.” Your protests and comparisons seemed to fall on deaf ears as he continued to enjoy his ice cream soup, leaving you to roll your eyes at his flippancy. 
“I don’t want to run you dry, now do I?” That surprised you, and it was apparent to him by the bewildered look in your now-wide eyes. Whenever you offered to pay for your other friends, they always jumped at the chance to exploit you to the best of their abilities, taking full advantage of the opportunity.
There truly wasn’t anyone like Lee Donghyuck. 
You weren’t quite sure how the friendship between the two of you had blossomed, for it had been such a natural thing that it completely slipped you by. The occasional hello turned into walking in the hallways to classes together, texting each other and hanging out after school while eating cheap ice cream. It was just so easy with him, activities you would find boring with others were enjoyable in his presence.
It was unfathomable, how everything about him was so captivating. He carried himself with an effortless aura, as if unaware of how magnetic and goddamn beautiful he was because he truly was one of the most stunning people you had ever set your eyes upon in your short life. Oftentimes, you would catch yourself just admiring the gentle slope of his nose and rise of his cheekbones, and how his hair fell so perfectly. 
And how could you forget his eyes, ones that you had the privilege of being under the gaze of, more so than others? His eyes were your favourite part of him, they left you mesmerised with their fiery intensity and simultaneous gentleness. 
“Your ice cream has completely melted,” he pointed out, nudging your side lightly with his elbow, effectively snapping you out of your self-induced reverie. You looked at your cup, the realisation that you had been aimlessly stirring its contents hitting you.
“Oh.”
“What were you daydreaming about now?” He asked, mirth lacing his voice as he looked on at you affectionately. Over the past few weeks that he had been growing closer to you in, he had started picking up on your little habits.
You bit the inside of your cheek, “Nothing.”
“If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable,” he cocked an eyebrow. “You were staring at me weirdly.”
Warmth flooded your cheeks, you had been caught due to your carelessness, and yet you couldn’t help but feel a little offended at his choice of words. “Weirdly?”
The edge to your voice gave away how you felt at that moment, and alarmed, Donghyuck shook his head, tossing the empty plastic cup in the recycle bin next to him. “No– well yes– but not in a bad way! Good weird.” In truth, he liked taking up your attention, he would sit forever to dissect the flecks of gold that appeared in your eyes when the sun's rays fell into them, and the lingering emotion he couldn’t quite explain.
“Good weird,” you repeated softly, looking away from him and letting that sink in. The apples of his cheeks were a light rosy shade now as he fidgeted, hoping he had successfully mitigated any possible insult he had accidentally bestowed upon you. He truly hadn’t meant to, there wasn’t an ounce of weirdness about the situation in the slightest, except for the muddled feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach when you looked at him like that.
“You’re the weird one,” you deadpanned finally, and he shrugged in resignment, plucking the cup out of your hands, much to your displeasure, “Hey, I’m not done–”
“There’s no point in finishing this, it’s not ice cream anymore.”
It landed next to his cookies-and-cream cup in the bin, his matter-of-fact words flying into the wind. You didn’t bother arguing, letting your hands fall limply to your sides as you looked at him again, noting how the orange glow of the sky crept through the strands of his hair, framing his head like he was a saint of some sort. 
“I’ll walk you home,” he stated, taking a few steps before stopping and turning around, waiting for you to join him. He was dependable and someone to trust, you thought briefly, biting back a smile at him. Donghyuck pushed down the fluster that was creeping up on him again.
The sunset over your little town, painting the sky in more brilliant colours as the two of you walked underneath it, knuckles silently brushing against each other as it faded to black.
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Donghyuck walked into his house, a Taylor Swift song playing through the headphones that he currently had on. While he had been walking you home, the two of you had engaged in a lively conversation about the different musical artists you each enjoyed, which eventually spiralled into an entire monologue on your end about why you loved the aforementioned singer so much. He found the way you spoke so animatedly, your voice brimming with passion and insistence, extremely adorable, and clearly, you had excellent convincing abilities because there he was, listening to her.
He slipped off his shoes, placed them by the door and sighed. The hallway of his new house felt nothing like a home, but the feeling of unfamiliarity that came with it was all too customary for him. 
“Donghyuck?”
His mother's lilting voice reached his ears from where she was, and he followed it. “I’m home.”
“Oh good, good,” she came into view as he made his way into the kitchen, slipping the headphones around his neck and opening a cupboard to get himself a glass. “I was thinking we could watch a movie today. I don’t have any work right now.” 
He poured himself some water, thinking over her offer. He knew her intentions were good, she just wanted to spend time with her son and his answer should have been a yes, but he shook his head anyway. “I have a lot of homework to finish.”
“Oh.” She tried her best to disguise the disappointment that laced her voice for his sake, but he could hear it as clear as day. “Alright, I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
He nodded, finished his water and walked upstairs to his room, taking two steps at a time to reach there as quickly as possible. Pushing the door open, he reached a hand out to the switchboard and then hesitated.
Donghyuck didn’t know which switches corresponded with anything. 
For some people, this was an inconvenience at best, but for him, it was a sentiment he was unfortunately very used to. A painful reminder of the unpredictability his life had always possessed. In his last house, he had just about figured out the pattern of which switches were for specific items, but now he was once again left feeling stranded.
And he couldn’t help but blame his mother for it. 
It was the same cycle playing out before him again, the move and the new town, the new faces that he knew would probably not mean much to him in a year when he found himself in a new place, thinking about how he wished that just once, he would be allowed to enjoy the trivial luxury of knowing the switches well enough.
One would think he’d be used to all the moving, but then again, he was just a teenager. 
He also knew it wasn’t truly his mother’s fault – she was simply doing what she needed to in order to support the both of them and being a single mother was no doubt hard on her – but Donghyuck was only sixteen. It was much easier to criticise and resent her than to try and understand for what seemed like the hundredth time. He had been so understanding for so long, that now even the concept of trying to be sympathetic sounded exhausting. 
Every year he’d walk through life without caring much for anyone he came across. Friendships didn’t mean anything to him for they were so fleeting, and the people who promised to stay in contact with him would stop calling and texting within two weeks of him moving. He had realised that letting himself get attached to someone was a waste of time and energy he didn’t have anymore, and had slowly taught himself to isolate himself so that every move didn’t hurt as much.
So why was it that for the first time in what felt like a long time, he felt a pinch in his heart when he thought about moving again?
And why was it your face flickering through his mind that seemed to cause it? 
In complete and unadulterated truth, he had never felt such a pull towards someone as he did to you. It had always been so easy for him to keep people at a distance, but with you, he forgot about having to do that. If anything, he wanted to keep you as close as possible. You were something he hadn’t accounted for.
He flicked the first switch on. The fan whirred to life.
Donghyuck would learn the pattern soon enough. 
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iii] now.
The days passed quickly as they usually did, you pushed any lingering doubts about the man Yeonmi was dating to the far periphery of your mind, burying yourself in your work. You were working towards a promotion you had had your eye on for a while now, and it was more important than anything else. 
But it was hard not to notice the little things that had changed about Yeonmi, the way she smiled more and how you’d often catch her hiding a grin when she glanced at her phone. It was difficult to ignore how she’d dress up and go on her dates, especially when she so often asked for your opinion and help, and you were forced to swallow your pride and assist her.
You were being idiotic, you knew, which was why you reminded yourself that this could not have been the boy you once knew. 
You sighed, shutting your laptop and placing your hands on the edge of your desk, pushing yourself to your feet and stretching. It was technically your day off, but you were still swarmed with online meetings and a few dozen emails that you had to send out. Letting your hands fall, you pulled at the hair tie around your wrist and gathered your hair into a ponytail, walking away from your home desk and walking to your bed.  
It was getting pretty late and Yeonmi still wasn’t home. From what you knew, she had gone to a dinner party her date had invited her to, and she had warned you she would be late and to not stay up, but it was in your genes to worry. You wouldn’t get sleep until you knew she was safe and at home in one piece anyway. 
But you supposed shutting your eyes for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Just as you were about to slip into a slumber, you heard the faintest clicking of the door to your apartment, and along with the unmistakable peal of Yeonmi’s laughter, it woke you up. Blinking rapidly, you forced yourself to leave the comfort of your linen sheets and get to your feet, rubbing your eyes in order to wake yourself up a little bit and grabbing the robe you hung behind your door to combat the slight chill that the midnight air possessed before making your way to the living room. 
You flicked the switch on as you walked into the room, squinting in discomfort at the sudden shift of lighting, lips parting in surprise.
There at the doorway stood an extremely giggly Yeonmi, the smile on her face looking like it had been tattooed on her lips, an arm placed against the wall to make sure she didn’t fall over, the other stuck in an attempt to take off one of her heels. When she failed and almost stumbled, another giggle left her, apparently unaware of the fact she was about to fall over.
Alarm rang through you as you took a panicked step forward, instinctively reaching out to try and catch her even though you weren’t close enough to do so. “Yeon-”
“I got you”
You froze as an arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back to her previous position and steadying her, and while you were glad your roommate’s fate of faceplanting into the wooden flooring had been thwarted, it was the last thing on your mind.
The first was that voice.
You knew it like the back of your hand, and no matter long it had been, you would never forget it. Even if it had changed a little, a little deeper than it used to sound eight years ago, unfamiliar with the amount of time that had passed and yet so recognizable for you.
Faltering, you slowly shifted your line of sight up to catch a glimpse of the person, only for him to do the exact same thing, presumably as a response to you saying your roommate's name and it was like everything around you had paused just for this moment.
You knew those eyes.
Eyes that were currently filled with swirls of confusion and surprise, only to rapidly thaw into a horrified look of realisation, his arm around another girl that just happened to have been the very one you had to face every morning.
The world truly did have a cruel sense of humour. You stared back at him, unable to tear your vision away from him no matter what you did.
Lee Donghyuck, in the flesh after eight long years.
It was almost unsettling, how he looked the exact same he used to. Of course, there were differences, but they were all superficial in nature. His hair was cut slightly differently, no longer in the neater hairstyle he had kept as a teenager but a little longer at the back. He was wearing clothes you had never seen before, but that was to be expected, and he had his arm around someone that was decidedly not you.
But other than that, it was him. Those stupid, splendid eyes of his, those very features that had been burned into your memory and had stubbornly refused to leave no matter how hard you tried to evict them.
It felt as if someone was standing right on your chest, relentless in their approach and crushing your lungs, every pint of air inside it being zapped out as if it was never needed there in the first place.  You briefly entertained the idea of walking back into your room and staying there for the next ten years.
“Y/n!”
The spell cast upon the two of you had successfully been broken by your intoxicated roommate, who, in her state, had absolutely no perception of social cues at the moment, and certainly not of the thick tension that had descended upon your living room.  She broke out of his grasp, stumbling towards you without even a semblance of grace and threw her arms around your neck in a death grip of a hug, only succeeding in contributing towards your current breathing problems.
Taken aback by her rather abrupt display of affection, you awkwardly pat her back a couple of times, managing to choke out the words, “Thats me.” Your attempt at adding a jovial lilt to your voice royally failed because the only thing on your mind was something rather embarrassing.
It was how absolutely terrible you probably looked right then.
It was silly no doubt, for you to be pondering your appearance at that specific point in time. If you were morally a better person, perhaps you would have been thinking about how you were relieved that Yeonmi was safe, but the only thing you could think of was the fact that your hair most definitely looked like a nest and that you were dressed in a ratty old sweatshirt that you had owned since your freshman year of college and pyjama pants.
They had peppa pig on them. If not for the fact that they were the most comfortable thing you owned, you would have burned them after this.
“Oh, right,” she giggled when she pulled away and saw your eyes trained on the man she had brought with her, hands on your shoulders to make sure she didn’t fall, “This is Donghyuck!” 
You glanced at her and then back at him, trying desperately to swallow the lump in your throat. “Right.”
Right? You mentally cussed yourself out for that lacklustre response and cleared your throat in order to save yourself. “Nice to meet you.”
Maybe he didn’t realise you caught the split second of confusion that passed through his eyes, but you had, catching yourself before you winced out of mild guilt for putting him in such a difficult position. Nevertheless, he played along like he was in on the plan all along, straightening up and responding.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
Two strangers by choice met again that night, heartstrings that had once been intertwined and subsequently torn apart to die out, reviving with just a simple glance and a few words. He looked at you and you looked at him, forgetting for a moment that the girl standing between the two of you was the biggest obstacle of them all.
And for just a moment there, you were sixteen.
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Donghyuck left a few minutes later, once awkward goodbye’s had been exchanged and Yeonmi was safely in your care, sipping on a large glass of water in her bed. 
Being around him again, even if it had only been for a few meagre minutes, had completely shattered your self-composure. Your heart was beating too quickly, your adrenaline was on an all-time high and your ability to be discreet had evaded you entirely, resulting in times when you caught yourself looking at him a beat too long.
He seemed to be having the exact opposite reaction, barely even looking at you after the initial shock of it being you standing there wore off. His eyes seemed to be glued to your tipsy roommate, talking to her in a gentle tone as he bid her farewell and promised to message her the next day. 
The fact that he seemed so normal infuriated you a little bit. It shouldn’t have, you knew that very well, but you simply couldn’t understand how you were a certified mess while he seemed to be so composed, acting as if you weren’t even there. It was wholly childish to expect him to be stuck on you, but then again, you had suffered that very fate, so why couldn’t have he?
And so there you were, sitting on the edge of Yeonmi’s bed, wide awake as you watched her finish her water, just barely making out the emotion that had resurfaced within you- the green-eyed monster responsible for your churning stomach with every look at your friend.
Why?
Because the way he had taken care of her tonight was all too reminiscent of how he used to do the same for you.
“What do you think of him?”
Her words were only slightly slurred now, and you blinked, registering her question. She stared at you expectantly, eagerly awaiting your judgement over her date. 
“He’s nice.”
She frowned. “That’s it? Nice?”
You shut your eyes, desperately wishing you could skip over this question somehow, but when you opened them she was evidently still waiting for you to finish. You breathed in.
Now, what did you think of Lee Donghyuck?
You had thought Donghyuck was the most wonderful person you had ever met when you were a teenager, the one person who everything seemed so natural with. He was someone you thought was home, a best friend and a lover all rolled into one. But he had eyes that tortured you, a past interlaced so intricately with yours that lingered to this very day and connections to someone unbearably close to you in the present. 
Yeonmi placed her glass on her bedside table and sighed contentedly. “I really like him, Y/n.” 
You hadn’t heard her say something like that about a guy since her last relationship, and she had the same simper on her face that she did back then too. There was no way you could bring yourself to even think about attempting to ruin that.
You breathed out.
“I think he’s great,” you started, fingers curling around her cotton bedsheets and squeezing, doing your utmost best to keep your voice level. “He was really good with you tonight.”
The bitter irony of it all hit you, how the guy that let Yeonmi finally move on was the very same that made it impossible for you to do so. Her smile widened while your stomach grew heavier, dragging you down as you walked to your own room later that night, your dreams tainted with images of a boy you once loved and a stranger who looked the same.
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iv] then.
Being sick did not suit you.
To say that you were miserable was an understatement. If one had to accurately describe what the situation felt like to you, they would have to include a bit about you feeling as if you were losing your mind. You did not appreciate the light-headedness that you experienced everything you stood up, or the throbbing head and blocked nose.
You definitely didn’t like being stuck in your bed practically all day. 
Slumped against your pillow and underneath your sheets, you sighed for what must have been the twentieth time that minute. At first, you had no problem with being able to skip a day of school, thinking that you would have a relaxing day of rest. This, of course, included catching up and binge-watching all your favourite shows and taking a well-deserved nap to catch up on sleep that your chemistry teacher had stolen from you via the dozens of assignments she gave out every week. 
Your glorious plans came to a stark halt when your mother decided that you needed to rest your eyes to get better, which meant that you had been forbidden even thinking about opening your laptop or staring at your phone for too long. This had left you to your own devices, and once you had slept for two hours, the ability to do so seemed to disappear.
Staring at the ceiling grew old pretty quickly.
The soft creaking of the door to your room had you quickly drop your phone and haphazardly push it underneath the blanket, plastering on the most innocent look you could as you stared expectantly, waiting for your mother to come into your view. She did, a glimmer of satisfaction appearing in her eyes at the sight of you without any electronics around you.
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better.” Your answer elicited a smile from her, and she continued, unaware of how you had disobeyed her orders and hidden the evidence.
“Great, because you have a guest.” She opened your door further to reveal your guest and there stood Donghyuck, his school bag slung over his shoulder as he looked into your room, offering you a smile and a small wave.
You stared back at him, relief and mild horror washing through you at the same time somehow, wholly displeased at the fact that he was looking at you while you barely resembled a human being. The Kleenex visible at the end of your bed did nothing to soothe your embarrassment. The relief stemmed from the fact that perhaps the only reason you had not been too pleased about missing a day of school was that you wouldn’t see Donghyuck.
Well, at least that was sorted.
“Sakura told me you were sick,” he explained as your mother left, walking into your room and looking around. Suddenly, you were ever so slightly embarrassed by the pictures you had stuck up on your wall in the fifth grade, knowing that you were smiling a toothy grin in each and every one of them. While you hoped he wouldn’t stare at them too intently, you noticed the small brown paper bag he was holding.
Seeing the raise of your eyebrow, he grabbed the chair next to your desk and dragged it towards your bed, sitting down and keeping the bag on your bedside table. “So I got you something to cheer you up.”
Your curiosity was piqued by that, and you sat up straighter, eyeing the bag even more intently now. Donghyuck bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too hard because of how adorable you were, your nose and cheeks tinged due to whatever sickness you had been afflicted with, but your eyes were still lively. Deciding to put you out of your misery, he took out the contents from the bag, carefully watching for your reaction.
And you did disappoint in the slightest, the sides of your mouth curling upwards in joy at the fact that he had gotten you your favourite doughnut and drink. The fact that he remembered it exactly made you grin the same grin you had plastered on your walls, taking the food from him and watching as he brought out his own favourite combination.
“I fucking love you,” you declared, overjoyed at having something with actual flavour to eat that day, before realising the words that had left your lips. Quickly, you took a bite out of the doughnut to cover it up and make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. And it shouldn’t have been because friends said those three words to each other all the time. It was normal.
Right?
Of course, most friends did not feel their hearts beating rapidly every time the other person was near. 
Donghyuck caught what you said, and for a moment it felt as if there was a lump in his throat. It wasn’t a new feeling when it came to you, the hesitancy to say something came and went as did his nerves around you. Swallowing heavily, he forced out, “Oh so you love me when I get you food. Got it.”
The teasing tone of his voice helped you relax, but if you had glanced at his face you would have realised it didn’t match his expression, which was just as tense as you were due to your slight slip-up. He couldn’t help but hope there was a hint of genuine truth in the statement.
“Shut the fuck up.”
And with that, the tension dissipated. He took a bite out of his donut and you took a sip of your drink. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward by any means, but you felt the need to fill it anyway. 
“It’s not just because you bought me food, okay?” You began earnestly. “You’ve also always been there for me. I appreciate that more than you know.” Then you paused, but not for long, adding to your previous statements, “But doughnuts definitely don’t hurt, so you’ve made a sick girl very happy. Thank you.”
When you finished, you found him looking at you with an inexplicable look on his visage. The softness to his gaze had a flush rapidly rise up your neck, the simper playing on his lips laced with a hint of mirth. It was then you realised you had said a lot of nothing to him in the span of five minutes, igniting embarrassment to bubble up inside of you.
God, you would never understand how he managed to do this to you without doing anything at all. 
“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m rambling. My dad says it’s a bad habit I need to get rid of.”
You mentally chastised yourself. There you were once again, giving him even more information he definitely didn’t ask for. In fact, in the past ten minutes, Donghyuck hadn’t said a word, it had just been you speaking. Burying under your covers to hide yourself was the first thing you wanted to do, but that would have made you look like even more of an idiot.
Why did you care so much about what he thought? The two of you were friends, he was probably closer to you than your other friends you had known since the first grade, and yet you were so deathly scared of somehow weirding him out or saying something wrong. 
If only you knew what was going through his mind at that second, the sheer fondness for you that had taken over his every thought. The amount of affection he held for you was something he had never felt for anyone else before and due to that, he often forced himself to not think too much about it.
Most people had their first crushes at younger ages, but not Donghyuck. At first, he thought that he was weird, but then attributed his apparent lack of feelings to not staying long enough in one place to get attached to anyone.
Then he met you, and your existence itself rebuked that entire theory. He had only known you for a little over three months, and although this was the first time he had ever thought about someone like this, he wasn’t confused in the slightest. It was never about being able to stick around for enough time, it was just that none of them were you.
“You could talk for hours and I’d never get bored.”
The silence hanging over both of your heads was broken with that singular statement of his, melting away your nerves and replacing them with a pesky, fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach. You blinked, processing what he had said and wondered if the butterflies in your stomach were a result of the seemingly noncommittal comment or nausea from your sickness. 
You had been a talkative person all your life, often getting into mild trouble at school for not being able to shut up. You had been told to quiet down or that your voice was too loud so many times that you had lost count, and something you had grown increasingly afraid of was accidentally boring someone by being too obnoxious on accident, leading to you apologising every time you realised what you were doing.
But not one person had ever said something so lovely to you. Never had they managed to completely dissolve that insecurity with just a few words.
“Oh,” was all you managed to get out in response. The butterflies seemed to increase in regards to the size of their swarm. He grinned.
“Somehow that made you shut up though.”
Rolling your eyes, you looked away and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling as hard as you wanted to. “Fuck off Donghyuck,” you puffed out your cheeks slightly. “You’re so lame.”
“Oh, so you want me to leave?” He got to his feet as if challenging you, and you snapped your head back, shaking it vigorously. If you had taken notice of the coy nature of his voice, you made no motion to show it.
“No, please don’t leave me. I've been sitting here alone all day. I’m this close to going insane.” You pinched your index finger and thumb together, pursing your lips in an indignant pout to put your point across effectively. This elicited a laugh from the boy, who promptly sat back down at your request, scooting even closer than before. 
And you resumed your conversation, talking late into that evening. He filled you in on the happenings of the day at school (which was followed by your complaints about how everything fun happened only on the days you were absent somehow) and you finished your doughnuts, stealing a few bites from his as well. You bickered and laughed at his stupid jokes, going off once again into one of your famous tangents with him patiently sitting through them. Your other friends hadn’t shown up to check on you, but he had, and that was enough for you.
All you did was talk, but somehow he made you feel better by just listening.
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Libraries were, in your eyes at least, magical spaces where time itself seemed to take a pause while you sat within them. The atmosphere of your local one that you visited often was unmatched, whether you were there to borrow books or to sit and study for a test. 
This particular library was absolutely gorgeous, with older design choices and architecture that gave it a more regal feel, something right out of Dead Poets Society. You could spend entire days there being productive, and every time you visited, you always left with a smile. 
The librarian was also extremely sweet and knew you by name, but that was to be expected considering you had been going there since you were ten years old. You walked in, giving her a polite wave and smile as you found your seat, settling in and arranging your study material. You were determined to tackle a particularly arduous unit of economics today in preparation for a class test you had coming up.
Your seat was towards the back of the library, next to one of the large arching windows and the optimal distance away from a fan in a corner. It was cosy enough to keep you focused on whatever you were doing that day while also giving you the best view of the library in its entirety, making it your go-to spot. 
It was due to this splendid view that you saw a certain Lee Donghyuck walk in.
He stopped in the middle, those eyes of his scanning the large room until they fell upon you. They lit up- something you could see happen even from the distance away you were and he began making his way towards your spot. 
Oh, dear. It seemed like you wouldn’t be getting any work done after all.
Donghyuck slid into the seat right opposite you, and you nodded in acknowledgment, looking back at the screen of your laptop. He looked at you for a moment before opening the book he had gotten with him.
And now for some reason, even though you were in the most optimal spot in the library that always produced productivity from you, your attention was directed away from your work and towards the beguiling boy across from you. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about him not glancing at you at all right then, or why you were so perturbed by it. 
Shaking it off, you once again turned your attention to the wonders of Alfred Marshall. Your method of memorisation was taking notes, or rather, scribbling down whatever was on the slides your teacher had put together and hoping for the best.
And it was then you heard the distinct slapping of a shutting book. “I’m bored.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to curb the smile that always seemed to make a show around Donghyuck, and raised an eyebrow in question.
In a whisper, he continued, “This book fucking sucks. I gave it a chance because Seulgi insisted I had to read it, but I really can’t get through a page without wanting to take a nap.” The droll look on his face almost made you laugh. “Do you happen to know where it belongs? I haven’t quite figured out the library yet.”
You nodded, getting to your feet and cocking your head to signal him to do the same. He fell into step with you as you led him to the fiction section in the back, and making sure to keep your voice low, you asked, “Seulgi has been talking to you a lot lately, hasn’t she?”
Every syllable of your sentence had been laced with forced nonchalance, and you didn’t dare look at him even once, turning into where you guessed the book would have belonged. He hummed lightly, following you dutifully.
“I guess so.”
Kang Seulgi was one of the more popular girls in your grade, well known for being in the cheerleading team. You hadn’t interacted with her very much, but from the few times your paths had crossed, she had always been very polite, leaving you with the impression that she was a sweet person. To tell the truth, Donghyuck was also talked about quite a bit, but you weren’t surprised about that in the slightest. He was a sight to behold, even if he didn’t know it himself.
So naturally, Seulgi had introduced herself to him and had begun to talk to him a lot more. You remembered when he told you she had sent him a follow request and then slid into his DM's, and him asking you to help him with how to respond since he had essentially nothing in common with the girl.
Now look, it wasn’t as if you were jealous or anything, truly, there was nothing for you to be jealous over anyway considering there wasn’t anything between you and Donghyuck. He was allowed to talk to whoever he wanted and take their stupid little literary recommendations.
Okay, so maybe you were a little jealous, but you really shouldn’t have been. You knew you were his closest friend, but maybe you were jealous because while you were his friend, Seulgi had approached him with intentions that were very obviously the opposite of an innocent friendship.
“Fun,” you muttered under your breath, successfully failing your own unbothered claims, stopping in front of a shelf and holding your hand out. “Book.”
He handed you the book, immediately noticing the shift in your mood, even if it was only slight. You glanced at the cover and frowned, pushing it in the gap in between all the books and staring intently at the other title,  evidently looking for another one you had just thought he would enjoy, before realising it was sitting on one of the higher shelves in mild dismay. 
The silence bothered him a little. “It really is an ass book.”
Now, although this made you feel a little better, the feeling of slight stupidity that came along with it cancelled it out.  The book you wanted to give him was just out of your reach, but you were much too proud to ask for his help after replying so curtly to him when it wasn’t necessary.
So you went onto your tiptoes, reaching out your hand in an attempt to get said book down, only for your fingers to barely brush against the wood of the shelf. This resulted in you almost stumbling a little, letting out a soft sound of frustration.
Donghyuck watched you in amusement, watching you try once again and still failing. 
“Need some help there?”
“Nope,” you said a little too quickly, jumping a little now and just about touching the book’s spine. 
He snickered to himself and moved until he was right behind you, easily finding the book and slipping it out of the shelf, making a point to hold it entirely out of your reach and asking languidly. “Are you sure about that?” 
Donghyuck knew he had bested you. He was toying with that fact, enjoying having you in the palm of his hands to play with- but not in a malicious way. 
You looked up at him, taking note of the way he was looking back at you. You took note of the triumphant look in his eyes, filled with amusement at your current struggle. That very amusement laced his lips as well, shaping them into an infuriating little smirk that had you catching your breath.
And subtlety had never been your strong suit, and it wasn’t about to start being so, much to your misfortune. Your eyes were trained to his lips, and this time, Donghyuck noticed.
He also noticed the minimal space between the two of you, and how if he just leaned forward ever so slightly…
It came to his attention right then and there, in the back of that library against the mahogany shelves, that he wanted to kiss you.
The thought had crossed the periphery of his mind before- the first time it did had taken him by abrupt surprise, seeing that he had never wished to kiss someone before. With you, the urge grew a little every day, and right then it was stronger than the last time. He was sixteen without the experience of his first kiss, and he had never thought too much about it before considering it was never in his list of priorities, but with you around? God.
And he had the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you were thinking of it too.
You were practically trapped in his embrace at that very point, pressed up slightly against the books as you stood there, your breathing going shallow in anticipation. It was questionable, just how easily he had disarmed you without even doing anything, and there you were, decidedly losing your cool for no apparent reason other than the fact that he was so close by. What was it again that he had asked you?
Oh right.
“I’m sure,” your voice came out small-sounding and meek, averting your eyes away from his face and down to your feet, gazing intently at the stitching of your shoes. “You can keep that. I was trying to get it down for you anyway.”
The spell was broken when he took a step away from you, clearing his throat in order to cut through the heavy air that had settled in between the two of you. He brought his hand down and studied the cover of the book, raising an eyebrow in question. “Why?”
“Because it’s infinitely more interesting than whatever the fuck Seulgi made you read.”
He bit the inside of his cheek, this time definitely noticing the hostile tone that came with your uttering of the girls' name. As hard as you had tried to exude indifference to the matter of the book, you had miserably failed, this being proved by your incessant need to one-up her literary recommendation. 
But he thought it was endearing, and flipped the book over, skimming the excerpt at the back. You waited patiently for his verdict, alternating between looking at him and to your side, peering out the window. 
“Okay,” He murmured, “I trust you enough to give it a shot.” 
Pleased with this, you nodded and began making your way back to your table. It shouldn’t have made you as happy as it did, seeing that he had also seemingly trusted Seulgi enough to try the book she had mentioned, but that didn’t really matter to you.
The two of you settled back down in your seats, and he opened the book up. You scoffed slightly at his newly acquired focused state, resuming your previous work now that he was occupied. Perhaps you’d be able to focus now.
Though you knew, with him around, that would never be the case.
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v] now.
“Do we really need these many snacks?”
Yeonmi waved her hand in your general direction to invalidate your question, adjusting one of the bowls that contained popcorn on the small table in the middle of your living room to accommodate the one with gummy bears. 
“You can never have too many snacks,” she reasoned with you, stepping back and admiring her work. There on the table sat a selection of candy and salty-snacks, a cornucopia of unhealthy that was at the level of enjoyable. “Besides, it’s the first official time Donghyuck is coming over- any minute now, might I add- and I want it to be perfect.” 
Oh right. You swallowed to avoid any sort of reaction making itself known, walking over and inspecting all that she had gotten. Gummy bears, popcorn, mini pretzels, chips- it was leaning towards being stronger on the salty side of things. “Are you sure you want me to stay? I can always sleep over at Chaewon’s.”
Much to your dismay, Yeonmi shook her head, shutting down your offer.
“It’s fine, I want you to be around. He’s going to have to get used to you being around anyway, and I would love it if you guys ended up being friends.” Her words pricked your skin, and unaware of this fact she continued on. “I have a feeling that you would really get along.”
If only she knew. You forced a smile.
“Oh, I think we should have another flavour of popcorn. Cheese?” She turned to face you, expectantly waiting on your answer. You hummed, shaking your head.
“Caramel.” Donghyuck had always gravitated towards sweets, so you knew he would enjoy that better. Yeonmi rushed into the kitchen to arrange for said popcorn, and you sat down on the couch, staring at the blank television screen in slight retirement, wondering how life had managed to corner you into such a situation.
Ever since the day he dropped your roommate home in her drunken state, you often thought about that bitter reunion between the two of you, cringing every time at the recollection of your decision to pretend that he was a stranger. You recalled the confusion stirring in those still-starry eyes of his, before it melted into a silent understanding between the two of you. 
At sixteen you had sworn he had to be your soulmate. At twenty-four, you were forced strangers.
Yeonmi returned to the room with another bowl just as your doorbell rang, and you straightened up in your seat, mild panic taking over your system. Before she could even ask you to get the door, you escaped the living room, your feet carrying you quickly to the kitchen and further away from the door, where he inevitably stood.
Leaning against the counter, you let out a troubled sigh. You had no idea how you were going to survive the night without losing your mind in some respect, and you also had no idea how you were going to explain your bolting to your friend without some sort of excuse. Opening a drawer, you pulled out a bowl and began looking for something to fill it with, before coming across a packet of Sour Patch Kids.
You stared at the candy, slowly tearing open the packet and tossing some of it into the bowl. When you were younger, Donghyuck had always had a pack in his school bag, whipping it out at random occasions to snack on. It was his favourite candy back then, and although you’re not sure if he was still fond of it, it was still worth a shot bringing it out there.
Clipping it shut, you toss the packet back into the cupboard and steel yourself to face him once again. 
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Donghyuck stared at the screen of his phone, processing the time displayed on his lockscreen. 8:30 pm. He glanced up at the sky, taking note of the stars that decorated it in splashes, before walking into your building, calling for the elevator with a press of a button.
Truly, he knew that he was a bit of an asshole, and he had self imposed this title for a plethora of reasons. He had been dating Yeonmi for a while now, and although there were no labels to their relationship, he knew it was nearing the time where they talked about plastering on said labels, something he had been now infinitely put off by. From the moment he saw you, it was clear that going any further with the girl would be absolutely fruitless.
So he should have called things off with her, and yet here he was, walking into the elevator and signalling for your floor. When she had asked him to come over for a movie night, everything inside of him had been screaming at him to simply end it then to avoid complicating things any further, but on the outside he found himself agreeing, regretfully.
That was asshole strike number two. The first strike was committed eight years ago.
Running his fingers through his hair, he used his blurry reflection in the walls of the elevator to fix up his appearance. He donned a pair of light-wash jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt today, opting to be comfy in an attempt to soothe his enervated mental state. 
Reaching your floor, he walked down the hallway and stood outside the door, sucking in a deep breath. Yeonmi had mentioned that since this was a casual affair, you would most probably be present as well, and that information had admittedly stressed him out even more than he already was.
You being her roommate suddenly made a lot of sense in regards to all those mannerisms that she possessed that reminded him of you. Living with you must have had your habits rub off on her, resulting in all the intense deja vu he had been experiencing these past few weeks. At first, he thought it was simply what it felt to fall for someone, considering he had only ever experienced it with you, but now he knew better.
The reason he had let this go on was because of how much she reminded him of you. It was like he still had you after all these years, even if it wasn’t nearly enough. 
He rang the doorbell and waited.
Yeonmi answered, her elated smile at his presence spurring some guilt from his end. After a hug, she welcomed him inside, ushering him into the living room of your shared apartment and explaining the set up of snacks and blankets that she had laid out on the couch. It was clear that she had put a lot of thought into the evening, and he gave her one of those dazzling smiles of his in acknowledgement.
She sat down in the middle of the couch, and he followed suit, taking one of the ends as she switched the television on, starting the movie. Donghyuck glanced around the room as tactfully as possible, noticing you weren’t present.
And that's when you walked in, grasping a dark blue bowl in your hands, answering his silent question of your whereabouts before he could even ask it. 
Part of him still saw the sixteen-year-old girl he had known all those years ago, the same hair and pensive expression painting your features that he had decidedly memorised. Once you had caught sight of him, you stopped in place and stared for a beat too long, looking from him to the table before him and then down at the bowl you held.  
Yeonmi turned around and the sound of your soft, padded footsteps, and cocked her head to the side in mild confusion. “Did you get something else?”
“Yeah,” your voice cut through his self-induced trance sharply, terse and quick, you switched the lights off, leaving the light from the TV as the only source of it throughout the room, and walked over and sat on the other side of the girl, grabbing a couple of the items contained in the bowl before handing it over. “I thought this would be a good addition.”
He peered over, eyes widening ever so slightly when he recognized the candy to be Sour Patch Kids that you were now slowly munching on. Yeonmi offered him some, and he slowly took it, trying his level best to not look at you in silent question at the choice of it. 
It seemed intentional, but that could have just been him overthinking it. By the looks of your eagerness to pretend he was a stranger to you, you probably didn’t even remember his emotional attachment to it when you were teenagers. The thought of that saddened him a little, especially when he thought back to the times you would always get him some every time you’d pass by a general store, or when he discovered you had an entire stash in the little drawer of your bedside table, ready for him every time he’d come over. The memory should have brought a smile to his face as he picked up one of the red candies.
The situation he found himself in was entirely ludicrous, sitting by a woman he had been dating for a short period of time and another who had everything to do with him in the past, but seemingly wanted nothing to do with him at present. 
But he really couldn’t blame you for that. 
Your behaviour towards him was more than justified, and if you hated him- well, he wouldn’t be surprised, or even blame you a little bit. No one deserved to be treated the way he had treated you, especially by someone who claimed to love you. 
One and a half movies in, Yeonmi seemed to have dozed off. It was around eleven p.m., the snacks were almost all the snack bowls had been emptied- save for the pretzels, and he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to the television screen anymore, wholly uninterested in whatever was happening there. Instead, his gaze drifted towards your rigid figure, a little more visible now that the girl sitting between the two of you had slouched down a little due to her sleeping state. 
The light from the television gently cradled your features, illuminating your side profile in a ghostly manner that made it difficult for him to tear his eyes away from you. That was the excuse he used to justify his mildly intense staring at that moment in time because the truth was that no matter the situation, he had never been great at looking away from you.
You must have felt the weight of his imminent stare, because you swiftly turned your head to face him, eyes locking with his almost instantaneously.  The air around him stilled, he was afraid to move, as if doing so would break something- or perhaps himself. He couldn’t bear to think about doing that once more, wanting to protect you and himself from that outcome. 
But playing it safe would only get him so far.
“Y/n.” 
Your name made it out of his mouth just slightly louder than a whisper, but it had you breaking eye contact, a breath escaping you as if you had been holding it in, eyelids fluttering shut. This was the first time he had uttered your name in what seemed like forever, but he had never forgotten how to sound it out, holding it out to the wind like some sort of peace offering. Every syllable of your name was precious to him, ingrained into his memory and locked there, incapable of even the thought of escape.
“Donghyuck.”
You weren’t even facing him anymore, vision cast down to your floorboards as you responded with his name in that melodic cadence of yours, although it was currently laced with brevity. The guarded nature of your utterance did not go unnoticed either, he knew you too well to not catch onto these things, even if it had been a while. 
“I…I’m not sure what to say,” he admitted, lifting a hand up and running it through his hair- an anxious habit he had retained from his teen years. Another sigh escaped your lips, and you shifted in your seat out of discomfort at the situation at hand, glancing at your fast-asleep roommate.
“She owes me so much for this shit.” Your words were completely unexpected, but it almost brought a smile to his face to know that your way of speaking hadn’t changed much either. No matter how much time passed, the little constants of life kept him grounded- but with you it only had his head in the clouds. Finally, you spoke directly to him, “You don’t have to say anything.”
Donghyuck paused, caught a little off guard. He couldn’t have disagreed with that more, the amount of things left unsaid between the two of you was the cause of the stinging tension hanging in the air, something he was desperate to attempt to dissipate. It was unnatural, all his memories with you involved everything being exceedingly easy, this was a striking difference to what he was used to. 
It was his own fault. You held his stare, and it took him back to the first time he met you, when your ability to do the same was non existent. He recollected the nervous energy that radiated off of you the first time he ever spoke to you, the way your eyes would never stay focused at his for more than a few minutes. He had found it rather adorable. 
That day was a bad one for him, and he remembered it in perfect clarity. In classic teenage angst, he was pissed off at the world for the cards he had been dealt, those being another new town and another first day at a new school. More importantly, he was even angrier at the person who had put him in such a situation once again- his mother, of course. He had barely spoken to her before leaving the house that morning, ignoring her meek attempts at trying to hold out an olive branch. She had made him his favourite breakfast to console him, a silent apology of sorts, but he hadn’t commented on it at all.
He had been through the routine so many times that he was tired and so he kept to himself, ears plugged with his headphones at the back of every classroom he found himself in. There wasn’t an ounce of effort to mingle with the other students from his end, his annoyances and temper getting the best of him. 
And then he felt you looking at him in one of his classes, looking at you right when you had been called out for doing so. A few minutes later, your eyes wandered right back to him, surprise and embarrassment igniting in them when you realised you had been caught. He approached you afterwards, and the interaction that followed left him with a ghost of a smile on his face despite his sour mood. 
He wasn’t sure why he had decided to approach you that day. There had been others who had tried to speak to him, others that he had blown off with tight-lipped, polite responses that hinted at him being wholly uninterested, but there was just something about you that drew him in so effortlessly. It had been easy with you from the very beginning.
Which was exactly why he needed to fix whatever was happening right now, at the present. “I think we need to talk.”
You shut your eyes, but he wasn’t sure if it was out of weariness or frustration. 
“No, we really don’t.” There was a tinge of denial embedded in your words, if not outright refusal. 
“Yes, we do,” he gave you a mildly pointed look, trying to break through the wall you had built around yourself and open your eyes to the need to get this conversation over with as soon as possible. “You know we do-”
“I don’t.”
You cut him off before he could even finish what he had to say, the finality in your tone stopping him in his tracks. The way you snapped at him told him all he needed to know: that you had no intention or desire to continue this conversation. Even so, he would have maybe pressed a little more if not for the slight tremor that accompanied intonation. 
Donghyuck pressed his lips together, knowing that he didn’t have the right to insist. A stifling silence settled between the two of you, unbroken for a few seconds too long as he sat there, stunned by your minute outburst and thus, as a result, speechless. He couldn’t think of an instance when you had ever reacted like that to him, and the realisation grounded him. 
He swallowed, the dryness of his throat making the action hurt a little. “I should leave.” He spoke up, slowly getting to his feet to avoid waking up the sleeping girl next to him, “Tell Yeonmi I said thank you for tonight and…and that I had to leave because I have an early morning tomorrow.”
You nodded wordlessly. 
The lack of anything from your end was unnatural for him, you had never been one to not talk. It had been one of his favourite things about you. 
“And…I’m sorry.” 
And with that, he left you there on your couch with the very words that had haunted you for what felt like all your life.
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vi] then.
Zhong Chenle was one half of your two best friends, the other being Sakura Miyawaki, and the only male hair to his family's multimillion-dollar company. Although he had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and everyone had his beck and call, he was surprisingly down-to-earth for someone who grew up with that much privilege. Even with all the wealth that his parents had still put him in public highschool, which you supposed said a lot about how he was raised. You had met him for the first time in the fourth grade when you had been paired up with the ever-smiling boy during P.E. 
Everyone in town knew where he lived and it was because it was the only mansion in the town, and saying that it was in town was a little bit of a stretch as well. It was situated towards the outskirts, but travelling was never a problem for him considering he had a driver appointed to take him wherever he pleased whenever he requested him to do so in one of the four cars sitting pretty in his garage.
You had been to his mansion several times over the seven years you had known the boy, and it never failed to leave you awestruck. The garden outside was enough to have your jaw drop, and the inside wasn’t any different with pristine white walls and marbled floors that were tastefully decorated. When you learned that he also had a pool, you seriously considered asking to be adopted.
It was due to this very fact that Chenle took advantage of every time his parents were out of town on some sort of business trip, having you and Sakura, along with his cousin Renjun, stay the night. 
This time, however, was different. This time, Chenle was throwing a party.
His parents were gone for five days, and this conveniently happened to line up with the weekend, resulting in the perfect opportunity. He had never thrown a party before, but they had been happening a lot more frequently now that you were in the eleventh grade, and he wanted to dabble in the fun, insisting that all three of you needed more of that in your lives. 
So you told your parents you were going to stay over at Chenle’s place for the weekend, throwing some clothes and other items that you would need into a bag and let your hair loose, hoping that it would conceal the makeup you had done for the party. When you heard the horn of Sakura's car blare at eight p.m sharp just as she promised, you bid them a rushed farewell and left your house, mild excitement admittedly drumming through your veins. 
You walked over to her car, raising an eyebrow at Chenle’s presence in the backseat. The party had technically started by now, but since you had to get ready and finish all your homework for the week before you were allowed to leave, Sakura had agreed to pick you up and go with you.
This also meant that the host was supposed to be there instead of here, a host that beckoned you to sit next to him. You obliged, tossing your bag in first before sliding into the seat beside him and asking, “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to pick you up,” he answered gleefully as Sakura began to drive away, smiling in a mixture of amusement and annoyance back at the two of you. His voice was a little jittery, and once Sakura turned into a new lane, he brought out the flask that he had presumably been hiding underneath the seat until it was safe. “Drink up.”
“This fucker showed up to my house,” your driver friend filled you in, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Thankfully, he still had the sense to call instead of ringing the doorbell. Can you even imagine the lecture I would have gotten if my parents saw him in this state?”
“You’re tipsy,” you concluded aloud, earning a lazy smile from the boy accompanied by finger guns on his free hand. You took the flask from him and unscrewed the top, cautiously smelling the top to ascertain the contents within, before holding it to your lips and taking a swig. 
The pure alcohol hit your throat immediately, stinging it and having your features twist into a frown, but you managed to swallow it all, subsequently coughing. 
“Oops,” Chenle muttered, “Forgot to tell you it's neat. There's nothing but whiskey in there.”
“A warning would have been nice, yeah.” Your neck felt warm. “Why are we already drinking?”
“It’s called pregaming Y/n, keep up. Be grateful since ‘Kura has to wait until we reach to partake in the fun. For us lucky folks, it starts now.” He ended this with a cheeky wink, his words were a little slurred, and you could smell the hint of whatever he had been consuming before. You briefly wondered how Sakura was going to get rid of the smell before she went home. 
“I believe what you mean to say is thank you,” comes from the front of the car, laced with sass. 
This was by no means your first time drinking with the two, since all the sleepovers at his place had consisted of stealing his parents liquor and drinking it in his room, but you didn’t partake in the act very often, and this was your first official party. You took another sip, this time a little more gracefully than the last. 
“You’re the host of the party, Chenle, you’re supposed to be there. You didn’t have to come pick me up.” To this, he huffed, waving a hand in your face as if he was shaking out the truth in your statement. 
“Yeah but you’re more important, so who cares?” 
You grinned, now knowing that he was definitely a little out of it due to the drinking. He had the habit of going all sweet and mushy on the two of you when he had a little too much in his system. 
“As much as I appreciate that,” you furrowed your eyebrows, “Isn’t that a bad idea, like, who is in charge back there? Won’t it be a mess?”
“Messes are inevitable when it comes to this, it’ll be fine,” He assured you as Sakura switched the radio on. “But if you must know, I left Donghyuck in charge to make sure no one dies before we get there.” 
You decided to not point out the underlying implication of people dying after you arrived, perking up a little at the mention of your- er- close friend. “Oh he’s already there?”
“Yeah, your little boyfriend was downing a mixture of rum and coke last I saw him.” Chenle’s words elicit an immediate reaction from you, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shook your head stubbornly. 
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Sakura snickered from behind the steering wheel at your defensiveness, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “Keep telling yourself that, honey.”
“He’s not,” you insisted, cheeks feeling hot from the teasing your friends were subjecting you to blaming it on the contents of the flask you held. Half of the booze was still left, and so you continued to consume it slowly, adding, “We’re friends.”
Even you had to admit that you didn’t sound convincing at all. “Sure.”
You downed the rest of the whiskey.
“Where’s your outfit?” Sakura asked once they were done tormenting you. She was already wearing hers, a dark blue sleeveless dress that cut off a little above her mid-thigh, accentuating everything she wanted it to perfectly, paired with silver jewellery and heels. Like you, she had gotten a bag of clothes for the night stay as well. 
Grateful for the change in topic, you unzipped the front of the hoodie you had on, revealing the top of your dress, the bottom part of which you had tucked into your sweatpants to hide it from your parents. “I’m wearing it underneath.” You tossed your hoodie to the side as you clarified, closing the top of the flask and handing it back to your friend to keep. “I’ll fix up there.”
“I’ll help.” You smiled gratefully at this offer of hers, nodding as you brought out your phone, attempting to neaten up your hair. Your enthusiasm was building by the second as Chenle babbled on about something inconsequential, arguing with the remaining two of you as usual.
About twenty minutes later, the car pulled into the driveway, and you had to do a double take to recognize the place. People you recognized faintly were walking around the gardens, holding red solo cups and talking, their chatter and laughter blending in with the music that came from inside the house- giving you an idea of how chaotic it must have been inside. 
Grabbing your bags, the three of you made your way to the front door that was half-open, something that definitely should have been a concern, but none of you comprehended that, your teenage brains ready to let loose and have fun. You barely heard Sakura's declaration to get wasted over the cacophony inside, pushing through the crowd to get to the staircase. 
“Holy shit, seniors are here too,” Chenle said triumphantly, pleased at having achieved their presence at his first ever party. “That’s sick, I’m going to go try talking to Taeil hyung.” 
With that, he disappeared, leaving you and your best friend to make the journey to the top floor alone. The chances of anyone being up there were minimal, and you were going to use the private bathroom in his room anyway, so it all worked out in your favour. 
Walking into said bathroom, you placed your bag on the counter and slipped your sweatpants off your legs, adjusting the bottom of your short, black dress. Sakura whistled in approval at your look after helping touch up your eyeliner, and you inspected your reflection in the large, fancy mirror, pleased with what was staring back at you. The dress had a certain subtle shimmer to it, but only when the light hit it at just the right angle, and your makeup brought out the best in your features, making you feel extremely pretty. 
Perfect. 
“Okay, I’m ready,” you declared, leaving your bags in the bathroom and proceeding to make your way back downstairs once you put on your heels, rejoining the pandemonium you had been so looking forward to the entire week. 
The music was so loud that you were sure you were going to lose your hearing in at least one of your ears, feeling the bass in your stomach and head as well- actually, scratch that, the mild buzzing in your head was definitely due to the alcohol you had consumed before finally hitting your system.  
This was going to be fun.
“I’m going to get a drink,” you informed Sakura, but her eyes were following someone else- Nakamoto Yuta, you realised, one of the star footballers on the team. Smirking, you gave her an encouraging pat on the back before navigating to the kitchen, almost getting lost due to the difference in how the house looked. You were used to the bright white walls and perfect interiors, the contrast of the dark lighting and cups strewn everywhere throwing you off a little. 
Finally, you emerged into the kitchen, which was a little more deserted then the rest of the mansion. You stopped in your tracks.
Because behind the kitchen island and leaning against one of the counters was none other than Lee Donghyuck. 
Glass in hand, he looked even more elusive than he already was in this light. A black shirt hung effortlessly from his shoulders, the first few buttons left open with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Jeans and a silver chain sitting around his neck, part of you was almost offended at how good he looked at that moment. 
He seemed at ease, as if he was unaware of the lawless nature of the party, taking a sip of whatever drink he had poured for himself. He looked in your direction after a few seconds, as if he had felt your stare and raised his glass up in acknowledgement, the simper that appeared on his face telling you he was pleased you had finally arrived. This broke the spell you had been under, and you walked around the island into his full view, grabbing one of the plastic cups.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his eyes drag over your figure from tip to bottom and making you feel a little self conscious. You mentally chastised yourself- mere minutes ago you had been feeling extremely confident, and now that state of mind relied on his judgement, but only his. 
Donghyuck had to force himself to look at your face again, one that was very obviously awaiting his judgement, it was just too easy to read your expressions. He was taken aback by how different you looked right then. A good, no, great different even. You were beautiful, he knew this very well by now, but he had never seen you quite this dressed up, and my god did you do justice to your look. 
“You look amazing,” he commented languidly, and just like that, you were back on cloud nine. 
Feminism had said goodbye the moment you had set eyes on him, clearly. 
“So do you.” That was the understatement of the century. You almost wished you could agree to all of Sakura and Chenle’s teasing and say that he was your boyfriend, because you sure as hell didn’t want anyone else hanging off his arm right then. You glanced at the line up of bottles against the wall, a sound of disbelief leaving you. “Fuck, Chenle really went all out, huh?”
There was possibly every type of alcohol you could ever want sitting there, just waiting to be consumed. Donghyuck chuckled, the low sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. 
“That he did. Here for a drink, I assume?” 
You nodded. “Something a little light on the alcohol taste though, Chenle had me have whiskey neat and I need a break from anything too intense.”
He hummed in consideration of this, taking your glass. “Got you. Be ready for the greatest drink of your life.” You rolled your eyes, but waited in anticipation nonetheless as he grabbed one of the bottles, pouring about two shots into it before walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle and some ice, pouring the contents into your cup and gently tapping it on the counter to help mix it all. 
“It’s peach ice tea and vodka,” he informed you as he handed it over, eagerly waiting for you to take a sip and assess the taste of his creation. “I’ve mixed it perfectly, so it should give you a kick without being too overpowering.” It was just as he said, the peach tea flavour being much more palatable to your taste buds, and you thanked him with a smile. 
“What are you drinking?”
“Uhh…..rum I think. Yeah, it’s still rum,” he eyed his drink, before finishing the rest of it like a shot. “It’s the good, expensive shit, I’ve had around five of these- wait, no- six.”
You giggled, sipping tentatively at your drink and admiring Donghyuck, the pleasant buzz in your head growing stronger. A song you liked came on, the melody beckoning you towards the main area of the party with every beat that played. 
“I’m going to go dance,” you declared, finishing your drink quickly. “I’ll find Chenle out there and join him.” This was your meek attempt at trying to get him to come along with you, not particularly wanting to leave his side or be separated from him even for just a song. 
Fortunately for you, there was no way in hell Donghyuck wanted to let you out of his sight either, especially not when you looked like that.
“I’ll come with you.”
You didn’t object.
After a few more hours of drinking, dancing and partaking in activities that would make your parents consider sending you to boarding school, you found yourself leaning against one of the walls of the house. You were completely unaware of which room you were in, everything happening in front of you feeling as if it was taking place in slow motion, your eyelids feeling heavy. 
Doing shots with Sakura was the beginning of the end for you. You had spaced out the shots a little, and since they didn’t hit you immediately you had assumed that you were doing fine, and proceeded to consume a couple of Chenle’s concoctions- the worst possible decision you could have made. God knows what he had put into that cup of yours, but it was strong.
All this culminated in you attempting to keep yourself upright against the wall, fighting your drunken stupor to the best of your abilities. You felt good, and wanted to stay awake for the rest of the party, one that had absolutely no signs of slowing down anytime soon. It was probably around one in the morning at this point, and although you were having the time of your life, the smokey, dim lit setting and being surrounded by your fellow drunks was starting to feel stifling.
“There you are.” 
You slowly looked up and registered the face that had waltzed into your view, taking your own sweet time to study the familiar spaced out expression that was plastered on Donghyucks stupidly gorgeous face. His pupils were dilated (as were yours, you were sure) and his hair messy but even that wasn’t enough to disrupt his beauty.  You were about to complain about this very fact, but he beat you to it, speaking once more.
“You disappeared after the first round of beer pong, and Jaehyun made me finish the game before I left, but I couldn’t find you after that.”
His manner of speaking wasn't the sharpest either, clearly very tipsy, but in an infinitely better state then you were. You had spent most of your time at the party so far by his side, thoroughly enjoying how he would hold your hand and guide you from place to place so you wouldn’t get lost and the way he placed his hands on the small of your waist, as if having some sort of physical contact with you was important to him. You especially liked how he would dip his head down, mouth right near your earlobe so that you could hear him speak over all the noise. 
As he had said, it was while some of your friends had dragged him into playing a game of beer pong was when you had slipped away, not entertained by the game in the slightest. You found Sakura and with every shot of vodka you let into your system, signed away your sobriety. 
“Ah,” you mumbled dumbly in response, nodding absent-mindedly, the memory of how he had his hand on the small of your back while you were dancing to the music popping back into your mind.
Music that was currently much too loud for you.
Donghyucks features twisted into a look of confusion, clearly not having heard your sound of acknowledgement. “What?”
You groaned, “It’s too loud in here.”
He seemed to have picked up on that, somehow understanding what you needed without you even asking for it. “Do you want to go outside for a little? Take a break from this?”
“Fuck yes.”
You pushed yourself off the wall, promptly stumbling right into Donghyucks arms. He looped them around you and helped you regain your standing, a small laugh leaving him, the sound having you certain you had never heard something quite so magical. “Maybe we should get you some water first?”
“No,” You breathed out, shaking your head rapidly. “I just want some fresh air.” 
This was how you ended up sitting upon the pavement of the street just outside Chenle’s mansion. The cold night air had you scooting a little closer to Donghyuck, before burying your face in your hands, which rested upon your knees, as you counted to ten in your mild, trying your best to regain your bearings once more. 
Donghyuck wished he had worn a jacket so that he could give it to you, but settled for throwing an arm around you to offer some warmth. The fresh air had helped sober him up a little, offering him the slightest bit of clarity as he sat there on the asphalt.
“I don’t think I can walk,” you said faintly, evoking a snicker from his end.
“You think? You barely made it out here alive.”
The music was softer outside, much more bearable. You could hear the leaves rustle gently, as if forming their own melody. 
“Shut u-up.” Somehow, you managed to stutter on this very basic phrase, only inviting more laughter from his end. You didn’t think you’d be able to blame it on the cold.
“My God, you’re so fucking drunk.”
You looked up at him, somehow momentarily unfazed by the close proximity and with a defiant look in your eyes, ready to argue back even in your inebriated element. “It’s not like you’re a saint right now either.”
He puffed out a laugh at how adorably indignant you were. “At least I’m better than you.”
“God you’re so fucking annoying,” you whined. “I really don’t know why I like you so much.”
You barely registered what you said, the words leaving your lips without much restriction. Inebriation caused you to let your guard down a little too much. He froze beside you, blinking rapidly to try and gauge how serious you were.
“You like me?”
The question somehow pulled you back to reality, but only a little bit. You opened your mouth and subsequently shut it, heavily hesitating. Even like this, you knew the weight that it carried, and the risks that came along with owning up to this accusation that you had brought upon yourself with your own carelessness.
Perhaps it was the cold, or maybe it was the faux confidence given to you by all the intoxicants in your system. 
“Yeah.” Your heart hammered in your chest. “I do.”
“And you’re sure this is not just because you’re absolutely shit-faced right now?”
“Excuse me? I am not-”
You never got to finish rebuking that claim of his, because he pressed his lips to yours almost feverishly, as if he had been waiting to do so for a long time. You gasped against his lips, your body responded before your mind even understood what was happening, instantly leaning into him and resting a hand on his knee to steady yourself. His hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, cupping your face ever so gently as he moved his mouth against yours slowly.
He tasted sharp almost, the remnants of whatever alcohol he had been confusing fresh upon his lips, strawberries- probably from a vape- along with a bitter undertone that you couldn’t quite place just yet, too acutely aware and focused on the fact that Lee Donghyuck was kissing you and how his thumb brushed gently against your cheekbone. 
The kiss filled you with warmth and you immediately forgot about how cold you felt previously, every sound around you fading into the background, utterly unimportant to you. You felt yourself flush under his touch, your fingers reaching out and curling into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer.
Donghyuck could hardly believe that this was happening either, acting on impulse the moment you confirmed that you did, in fact, like him. He pulled away after a few seconds, watching as your eyes fluttered open a little later, wide is slight disbelief, your pretty peach -flavoured lipgloss a tad smudged, now also on his lips.
“You just kissed me,” you said in awe, and he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear fondly. 
“I did.”
“You kissed me,” you repeated once again, like saying it aloud would keep it real and not just a figment of your imagination, “and you taste like smoke.”
You had eventually realised what the bitterness was. He frowned lightly, trying to place why that was. “Johnny hyung taught me how to smoke a joint sometime earlier- oh fuck, did that ruin it?” 
The look of genuine worry on his face made you almost laugh, and you stared at him incredulously, almost scoffing at the notion. Your fingers were definitely wrinkling his shirt with how tightly you were holding it at that moment and you shook your head firmly- well, as firmly as you could for someone who could barely stand upon her very own two feet.
“Nothing could ever ruin it.”
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When you awoke, you had absolutely no clue where you were. 
Tucked neatly into a bed, you blinked rapidly to regain your bearings, staring up at the ceiling in pure mystification. You came to the conclusion that this was one of Chenle’s guest bedrooms, but couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out how you got there. 
You attempted to sit up but did so a little too fast, a sharp pang of pain rushing to your head and making it feel as if it split apart. A strangled sound of agony left you as you slowed your movements, opting to lean against the headboard as a compromise to sitting up straight. 
And that's when it hit you.
Memories from last night rushed back to you, fractured and in hazy glimpses. You recalled holding up a stranger's hair while they puked in one of the bathrooms, awkwardly standing aside another girl who had never spoken to before as she sobbed, mascara streaming down her face, laughing drunkenly with Sakura and Chenle (that screechy laugh of his had somehow been amplified with how plastered he was) and stumbling through the many hallways of the house. You couldn’t recall anything in its entirety, having to make do with the mismash of chaotic, foggy remembrance.
But you distinctly remembered Donghyuck kissing you outside the mansion. And then once again inside, after he made you drink water, and near the staircase, and-
You placed your hands over your warming cheeks. It was quite amusing, how the only thing you remembered perfectly was making out with him. 
Carefully, you got out of the bed, gritting your teeth to bear with the pounding in your head. You were still in your dress from last night, and there was no way in hell you were going downstairs looking like this. Somehow, you found your way to Chenle’s room, which was thankfully empty, and shut yourself in his bathroom, before sighing in resignation at your reflection. Your eyeliner was smudged around your eyes, makeup completely demolished- you were sure that your skin was crying because you slept in it. 
Your bag was still there, and you removed the extra clothes you had brought along, freshening up as quickly as you could and changing. It felt good to get out of the tight dress and into a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, washing all your makeup off. Deeming yourself finally presentable, you began your journey downstairs. 
Downstairs, as you had referred to it as, had been completely trashed. Solo cups and bottles of alcohol were strewn everywhere, along with random shoes lying about. You grimaced at the sight that somehow contributed to your migraine, walking past it all to the kitchen, where Johnny stood near the stove, flashing you a bright smile.
“Y/n! Good, you’re awake. Take a seat, my famous pancakes are almost ready.”
Chenle was slumped over the island, sitting at one of the stools around it. He glanced up at the mention of your name, and somehow, the boy looked worse than you felt. You occupied the seat beside him, cocking your head to the side and silently asking why Johnny Suh of all people was still around, when it seemed like everyone else had dispersed.
“I threw up twelve times last night,” he offered instead, a certain hoarseness in his voice. “Johnny stayed over to make sure I didn’t die, and handled almost everything after. Somehow, he doesn’t get hangovers.” The last bit of information sounded a little like your friend was complaining over how unjust it was that he had to deal with a hangover, while the senior didn’t.
“It comes with experience,” Johnny said wisely, putting the pancakes he had made onto a plate and sliding it over to the two of you. “Leave a couple for your other friend, I think she’s still sleeping.”
You nodded, grabbing a fork and immediately dug into the breakfast he had so kindly cooked for the two of you, trying to pay attention to his speech about how pancakes were the best cure to a hangover and nod where you thought it was polite to do so, but your thoughts drifted away from him and to a certain boy. 
Donghyuck had also been pretty drunk by the end of it all, you were sure. Chances were he didn’t even remember kissing you, but that singular thought was enough to have your stomach plummet. 
“Y/n? Are you listening?”
“Yes?” You snapped out of it, biting the inside of your cheek hard.
Chenle rolled his eyes, but grinned. “The party was a success, Johnny hyung himself just said so!” Safe to say, Chenle was on cloud nine. You, on the other hand, were a mixture of anxiety and elation, which was a most confusing combination to unpack. The older boy smiled in hilarity, somewhat seeing his younger self in your friend.
“The next will be even better.”
As Chenle began planning the hypothetical future party (with a raging hangover, mind you- he truly was shameless), you stuffed your face with another morsel of pancakes, soaked in maple syrup, hoping that it would soak up the remaining alcohol in your system and help you think clearly about your circumstance.
By the time Sakura emerged from her slumber, it was around noon, and the pancakes had long been devoured.
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You arrived home in the evening to an empty house and a note from your parents saying that they had decided to go on a date night. This worked out well in your favour, considering you had no energy to deal with anything after the events of last night. Johnny, being the only one completely in his senses, had driven Sakura’s car back with the two of you, making sure you reached home safely. 
Flopping down onto your couch, you shut your eyes for a few seconds, deciding that what you needed to recuperate was a calm night. Perhaps you’d watch a few movies and order pizza.
These glorious plans of yours were quickly thwarted when you heard your doorbell ring.
Suppressing an annoyed groan, you forced yourself to answer the door, your eyes widening at the sight of Donghyuck standing there. Your mind immediately scrambled on seeing him, not a single coherent thought forming, which led to a most intelligent greeting from your end.
“Uh.”
He raised an eyebrow, glancing behind you and into your house. Embarrassment flared up inside of you, and you coughed awkwardly, opening the door wider and shuffling to the side. “Right, wanna come in?”
So now he was in your kitchen, and you had no idea what to talk about. “When did you leave Chenle's?”
“Early morning,” he informed you, eyes following your every move as you poured yourself a glass of water, sipping on it to curb the awkwardness in the air. He paused, studying you carefully and slowly asked. “How was the hangover?”
“Terrible,” you groaned, the insistent throbbing of your head proving this. You finished up your water and walked closer to him. “It’s still there. I’m never drinking again.” 
He snickered disbelievingly, a glint in his eyes that represented an emotion you couldn’t quite place yet. “Liar.” He seemed distracted, tapping his foot rhythmically against your floor. You briefly wondered how his hangover had dissipated so quickly, envious of the fact.
“Listen buddy, I’m a quick learner, and I’ve learned that being wasted is not worth the consequences.” 
You said this in a joking manner, but there wasn’t even a hint of hilarity on his face, a serious expression facing you instead. Panic seized you for a moment, wondering if he truly didn’t remember the kiss, or if he did and regretted it. Maybe he was here to tell you to forget it ever happened, that it was just a drunken mistake from his end and that it would never happen again.
Maybe, you were just a terrible kisser.
“You were supposed to laugh,” you muttered weakly, your anxiety clawing at your chest. If he was about to reject you and crush your heart, you needed there to be more space between the two of you, and instinctively took a step back, moving to take another right after, but you were stopped.
Donghyuck grabbed your wrist, pulling you forward until you were right in front of him, his determination crystal clear.
“I am not your buddy.”
He said the word with resentment almost, staring at you hard. You swallowed thickly, not quite knowing what to say, terrified at the possibility of this being him cutting off your friendship as well. Him not liking you romantically was bad enough, but him wanting nothing to do with you was even worse. You couldn’t imagine not having Lee Donghyuck as at least a friend. 
Pressing his lips together, he asked. “Do-do you remember everything from last night?”
The question hit you like a train, and the stutter in his voice- the hesitation, it suddenly cleared all of the terrible outcomes you were thinking of. He definitely remembered, and it seemed like he was afraid that you didn’t. It dawned upon you right then that it was quite possible that both of you were royal idiots.
You sucked in a sharp breath. “Not everything.” His grip on your wrist was gentle and warm, you could see him swallow, a flicker of dread passing through those brown eyes of his as he rephrased his question. 
“Do you remember what happened between us?”
How could you possibly forget? It was the only thing you could remember, the ghost of his kiss still lingering upon your lips that yearned for the feeling once more. Your confession was fresh on your mind, being the only thing you had thought about from the moment you awoke.
“You know I do.”
Your voice was quiet, refusing to look at him properly. His other hand rose to your face a few seconds later, fingers gripping your chin and tenderly angled your face upwards so that you were forced to, your face just inches away from his. You desperately hoped he couldn’t feel the slight tremble of your hand, feeling vulnerable without the courage that alcohol supplied to you. 
“You know what? I don’t think I do know.” The coy nature of his voice did not go unnoticed by you. “I think I might need something to refresh my memory.”
You gawked at the boy, completely in disbelief at the sheer audacity he displayed right then, purposely playing with your already extremely frazzled mind in such a manner. You released your hand from his, hitting his arm weakly in annoyance. 
“You’re so lame,” you declared, and he frowned.
“Lame? I’m trying to be smooth over here!” He genuinely sounded kind of distressed, and you couldn’t help the smile that erupted upon your face, even if you did your best to look as annoyed as possible.
“If you want me to kiss you, just say so, you idiot.”
He hummed as if deep in thought, only putting you more on edge. Slipping the hand that held your face behind your neck, he nodded softly and followed your instructions. “Fine, I want you to kiss me.”
He pulled you closer by your waist, fingers entangling in your hair as you closed the distance between the two of you. You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him almost feverishly, more than eager to experience it while sober. He smiled against your lips, which was enough to bring forth giggles from your end. 
You kissed him until you were breathless and felt flushed, dizzy from just how long you had truly been waiting for this. Pulling away, you looked at him, searching for an answer to a question that had popped to the forefront of your mind.
“We just kissed.”
“For the second time,” he added helpfully.
“Right. And you’re not my buddy?” You raised an eyebrow, almost as if you were purposely provoking him.
“Please don’t friendzone me on day one itself.” 
A laugh left you, and he let his other hand fall down to your waist, interlocking his fingers right by the small of your back as if he was securing you in place, making sure you wouldn’t disappear in that moment. Not that you wanted to anyway, being quite content with where you were currently.
“I won’t.” You promised, biting the inside of your cheek as apprehension suddenly came over you. “So then…?”
“Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” He cut off the pointed silence with his question, one that had you nodding before you even verbally announced your answer. The shy yes that you pronounced earned you that marvelous smile you so loved, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, hugging him tight, as if trying to memorise every detail about what had just happened.
You were only sixteen, and perhaps still hopelessly unaware of the magnitude of your feelings towards Donghyuck, but somewhere in the uncertain haze that you had to navigate, you always knew that every path would always lead you straight back into his arms. You’d figure it out with your hand safely tucked in the pocket of his jacket, intertwined with his so firmly it felt as if he would never let go. 
After all, what was love, if not the sweet promise of forever?
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part i fin.
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alexanderwales · 3 months
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Pitchposting: Generation Ship
(Pitchposting is a way of giving away ideas that threaten to grow in my mind until they become draft documents. They are free to a good home, though there's no guarantee that I won't try to write them at some point.)
Alright, hear me out: it's a generation ship, one expected to reach its destination with an entirely new generation of people who never knew the homeland, except instead of being a scifi concept, we're doing it as mundane as possible.
I think this is one of those ideas that only appeals to me because I immediately start thinking about the logistics of it all, and there's something in the mundane, gritty realism that really appeals to me. Mostly I'm worldbuilding and problem solving, trying to get at what it would actually be like for people to have been at sea their entire lives, to have a ship that either needs to endure the waves or be rebuilt as it goes.
I was going to say that this needs to be fantasy, but I guess technically it can be an Alderson Disk or something. An Alderson Disk has a habitable circumference of approximately a billion kilometers, a sailing ship can go maybe eighty miles a day, that's a ballpark of 12.5 million days to circumnavigate the disk, which is 34,000 years. That's a hell of a lot of generations, twice as long as we've had agriculture. (But you could also just have it be a fantasy world that's larger than our own, with a generation ship that was only trying to flee to greener pastures that are a hundred years away.)
The purest version of this story is a world that's just water, to match the void of space. The ship sails, repairs are made from flotsam and jetsam and driftwood from unspecified places, rainwater is caught and put into barrels, pitch is used for patching, fish and kelp are hauled up from the ocean, birds are captured from the sky, and the ship must necessarily endure storms and swells.
I've always felt there was something compelling about constrained living situations, places where everyone knows everyone and you have to make it work because there's absolutely no way out — where you're on a knife's edge because there's only so much preparation you can do. A generation ship needs to think about absolutely all of its needs and how it will deal with the deterioration of all things over time, along with problems that might only crop up once every hundred years, or problems that won't become apparent until long after the ship has left the dock.
Let's say you have a sailing ship the size of one of the largest sailing vessels of the 19th century, a thousand people all told. The families are carefully braided to prevent accidental incest, everyone has their position in life, every master has at least one apprentice but probably more so gout or cancer don't eliminate the last person who knew how to make more pitch.
This is clearly an Idea story, one that starts with a ridiculous premise and then explores it, but one of my favorite things about idea stories is finding the characters and the conflicts within them. For a generation ship, the biggest, most obvious conflict is the conflict between generations: the old people who once knew dry land, the middle generation who will likely die before the destination is reached, and the children who will be the beneficiaries of all this travel.
We have a woman who was born to the sea, who loves the sea, who loves the travel and takes great joy in knowing that she's probably not going to see the end of it until she's ancient. We have the grizzled sailor who's nearly risen to the rank of captain and sees the whole mission as utter foolishness. A boy of thirteen who is obsessed with writing stories about the land they've set off toward and keeps his telescope on the horizon, hoping that the predictions were off, that they're somehow two decades early. A girl of sixteen who doesn't feel suited to the marriage that's planned for her, who is secretly in love with her best friend. A scientist who has been quietly advancing the state of knowledge with every new fish brought up from the deeps.
And then there's the plot, which there are so, so many options for. I would start the novel with simple sailing, a few chapters of the daily routine, the personalities, their petty fights with each other, and the stress of being in the middle of unfathomably deep waters whose depths are only glimpsed when the nets bring up something new. Then ... an island, another ship, sea creatures that have a glimmer of intelligence, a storm that makes the ship limp, spoilage that threatens starvation unless drastic action is taken, a political squabble that might bring all the plans crashing down.
Maybe it's a book about being trapped by the past, or about hanging on by what feels like a delicate thread, or about how systems are fragile and careful thinking and brave leadership are the only things that will get us through.
Mostly I think I want to be a geek about a ship that needs to survive in the ocean for a hundred years, and I do not have the time to write this novel, not when there are so many other novels to write.
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inbarfink · 1 year
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Among the various readings and interpretations of What the Hell is Up With the Ending to the DHMIS Web Show - one of the more interesting ones (from my perspective, at leas) has always been that it’s all a metaphor for repeating patterns of trauma and/or abuse. 
As in, most of the narrative of the DHMIS Webshow has been some sort of surrealist metaphor for Roy being an overcontrolling and manipulative parental figure for his son and his friends
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And then the ending shows them finally escaping his influence -
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Only that without a frame of reference for just how screwed-up their upbringing really was and without any healthy way to process their various traumas, they end up being in danger of just replicating his abuse on their own. Either on each other or maybe on the color-swapped characters who can, like, represent their own children or something. 
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And so the vague ending of the Webshow is an open question, yes, the trio might’ve gotten physically away from Roy’s influence - but are they free from it mentally?
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Or are they doomed to snap back into their old familiar world?
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And the interesting thing about this is that like… that could be what the Web Show is about on a metaphorical level. But in the TV Show, with its greater emphasis on interpersonal conflicts and the characters - the idea of our main trio unknowingly replicating the abuse they live under is not just something we can hypothetically ruminate on. It’s something we can actually see, something we can actually feel.
Like, the first thing that made me think of Yellow and Red’s interactions with Stain Edwards.
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This is basically the closest the Three of Them can get to being parental figures within the confines of the Format. He starts out as such a sweet and curious child-like being, his title for himself is literally ‘the Forever Boy’. And, well…
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Red and Yellow are just so uncomfortable with his curiosity and thirst for adventure that they basically immediately try and stomp it right out. And that’s like a whole big thing about DHMIS, isn’t it? The way that children’s edutainment and the education system actually curbs children's curiosity and desire for learning so they can better memorize easily-digestible simplified concepts and Respect Their Authority Figures. 
You know, it’s the whole thing with…
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And that’s kinda how Red acts with Stain? He’s a lot less violent and more subdued about it - but he also discourages the little guy from asking questions and wanting to explore the world. 
And he is trying to push him into fitting more into the Format. And, like, managing his life like the Trio’s own life is managed by the Format. First more generally into what being part of the DHMIS main trio is supposed to mean (‘just sit here and something will happen’) and then eventually literally turning him into something he didn’t want to be. 
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And from our more familiar perspective, it’s clear that Red Guy really just genuinely thinks at this point that sitting passively and Waiting to Be Taught At is how things are Supposed to Be and can’t really imagine things going any other way. He is honestly just trying to get Stain to understand how their life is supposed to work. (Well until it starts becoming about making a new Duck) 
And it’s also clear to us how much Red Guy is motivated by just unaddressed grief about Duck and wanting to avoid conflict with Yellow Guy, who's a lot more explictly lashing out at Stain in his grief
"What's the matter with him?" "Nothing. Just don't look at him." "What? Where can I look? I can't look at him, can't look over there..." "No, if, if you want to look at stuff, just tell me and I-I'll make a list. Of where you should or should not look..." "Seems like a weird system..." "Yeah, well, you seem like a weird little...thing with...and you don't even... the other guy at least had his own clothes"
But looking at it from Stain’s perspective, taking aside our understanding of Red’s character and motivation. This is just an authority figure giving him a nonsense set of rules and then lashing out at him when he questions it. Never giving a deeper explanation than ‘this is how it’s supposed to be’ and basically punishing his curiosity.
Kinda like, well, how the Teachers tend to interact with the trio.
And then there’s Yellow Guy who’s just totally lashing out at Stain through the whole thing, because, again, he can’t process the grief of losing Duck. Because his environment did not give him the tools to properly process that trauma and he has no healthy frame of reference to grief and that’s kinda...
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Yeah, that’s just what I was talking about. Stain’s subplot in ‘Death’ is just Yellow and Red having not interrogated their abusive environment and not really dealing with their trauma and thus repeating the patterns of the Teachers on their new child-like figure.
Which then culminates with either Duck killing Stain in the name of preserving the status-quo of the format (“there’s only supposed to be three of us”) or with Stain having internalized so much of what Yellow and Red (but mainly Red) taught him about what he’s supposed to be that he was willing to kill in the name of the Format - and then slotted in perfectly in the unadventurous, unquestioning role of Duck.
And this lil narrative is especially interesting if you believe any variance of the David Theory. Because Yellow and Red were mainly motivated in their mistreatment of Stain by their Grief about a ‘dead’ family member. Which could mirror Lesley's trapping and mistreatment of the trio and her own motivations. 
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But I think this idea of mirroring and repeating patterns of abuse are reflected in more than just this one episode. It’s also reflected in the way Red and Duck tend to mistreat Yellow.
Because while Yellow doesn’t slot as neatly into the Child position like Stain did- his simplistic naïveté does mean he often plays a Child-like role in our favorite Forced Family dynamic. And the way that Duck and Red can often condescend to him can… very well mirror the condescending way the teachers address all three of them.
Especially when you also consider the similar manner both the Teachers and Red + Duck react to Yellow being fully charged in ‘Electricity’. They are all so nervous about Yellow breaking away from his supposed ‘role’ as the Stupid One. 
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And they especially all seem so very insecure about the idea that Yellow might be smarter than they are.
And that’s, you know, also an aspect of children’s education that tends to actually harm children and their curiosity. This desire for ‘respect’ towards authority figures and this egotistical need for teachers and parents to always be smarter than their kids - causing them to subtly or bluntly punish children for just being clever or inquisitive. 
It’s, you know “I’m the adult, you are the child. I am supposed to be the Smart and Knowledgeable one and you are the one who must be taught. And you need to play your role!”
Again, that seems to be the whole thing in ‘Time’.
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Here it’s a lot more subtle and less openly hostile, but Yellow can tell that just like that Insurance Teacher,  Red and Duck’s egos have also been hurt by the fact that they might not be smarter than Yellow Guy anymore. And he considers going back to the role he’s ‘supposed to be’, even though being fully-charged seems to feel better for him (‘this doesn’t feel wrong’), just for them. 
That’s almost literally a child giving up on a pursuit of knowledge just to placate his parental figures. 
And then, you know, his refusal to do so and his assertion of his own ability to make decisions for himself (his own maturity, "they're not in charge of us anymore" "Maybe they never were") is directly what leads to him ascending and disassembling not just the trio’s dynamic but the very structure of the Format. 
And I think, it’s not just that Red and Duck’s treatment of Yellow mirrors the way the teachers treat the Three of Them - it might be a result of it as well. With how condescending the teachers are towards them in general, bullying Yellow is their way to assert some sort of maturity and intelligence for themselves. It's super-fucked up, but this is how they internalized expressing what ‘intelligence’ is supposed to look like. And they have no frame of reference for a way of feeling smart or in control that doesn’t involve shutting someone else down. Because that's what literally every authority figure does for them all the time.
Now, do I think that means that our trio is doomed to mirror those patterns? That they will always inevitability repeat the horrors they go through on each other and others? Well, just like with every ‘cycle of abuse’, it can always be broken. But it will take some actual understanding and self-awareness and personal healing from the trio. 
And without this, they’re not just trapped within the Horrors physically, but also spiritually as well. Without it, no matter if they do manage to run away, on some level, their journey will always end up back at home....
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dduane · 11 months
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Hi!! So, this has probably been answered in interviews, but as somebody in my late 20s who like JUST watched TNG: is there a reason the show dealt so often with themes of the sci fi equivalent of transracial adoption? There's Worf's whole arc, "Suddenly Human", and several other episodes where the theme of being adopted by someone whose experience in the world does not match one's own is explored with great depth. Was this in the news a lot when the show originally aired? Was there someone in the writer's room who was living this experience?
First of all: when Michael Reaves and I wrote "Where No One Has Gone Before" for ST:TNG in 1987, the formal "writer's room" concept was only just beginning to coalesce, here and there, out of the old producer/senior writer/staff writers structure. As was usual for freelancers of that time, our screen agent simply called the TNG offices and got us an invitation to go in and pitch our idea to Roddenberry and one or more of the senior producers. When they liked what we had, we were asked to submit a written outline. Then, after some notes from Roddenberry and Herb Wright (our story's producer), we were told to go to script. But there was no group/cooperative “breaking out” of the script’s scenes, or idea-sharing, such as you’d routinely see in a room today. Michael and I just went home and wrote the script, turned it in a couple of weeks later, and got paid.
In the seasons that followed, something corresponding to a room did begin to come together at TNG—mostly because it had no choice but to do so. Within its first couple of seasons, TNG had acquired such an awful reputation for the way it treated its pitching freelance writers—including wildly arbitrary notes and even uncredited, secret rewrites from Roddenberry's lawyer—that almost no one with Guild qualifications wanted to bother trying to write for Trek any more. (This is why ST:TNG became one of the very few series operations in Hollywood to start accepting pitches from non-Guild members. See the article here for some background on the situation.)
All of the above being the case, I have no real idea of what the staff writers / nascent ST:TNG room might have been thinking about transracial adoption, or when... especially since later in 1987 I relocated to the UK and then to Ireland, to live with @petermorwood. The move took me somewhat out of the US TV loop, and turned my attention more toward film and TV work (and books, of course) in Europe.
The right person to ask about this—and it's a pity he has no presence here—would be Ron Moore. If anybody has an answer to your question, I'm betting Ron would. It's possible the subject's come up in some interview with him, though, so you might want to look into that.
Anyway, sorry not to be able to be of more help.
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within-your-eyes-if · 10 months
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A Few Updates
Hello everyone!
I have some exciting news and a few thoughts I want to share. Another long update, I'm sorry!
Codex Update: As you know, I've been working on updating the Codex. I've put a lot of thought into each entry, balancing new ideas with existing lore. While a lot of elements were already established, delving deeper into some topics has inspired some new ideas, and I want to ensure everything fits seamlessly. With this in mind, I'm considering releasing what I have so far while I continue to ponder over some of these newer concepts and refine older ones. In the next few days, I'll be going through more feedback to address some issues found before I plan to release the update.
New Story: I'm excited to share I've released a prologue and first chapter for From Here to Again! Writing something different is meant to help me grow as a writer and expand upon things I might not have considered before, especially when writing Twine.
I will not be making a Tumblr for this story right now, sorry!
I know I've shared other stories that I planned, and here are some updates on those:
Nautical Lost would definitely benefit from a later release as Within Your Eyes grows, as this story will expand upon the world lore and some events that will happen.
The Innkeeper (a working title), I decided to hold off on because I'm terrible at management games, it seems. It was meant to be a fun little story with shenanigans. However, I do want to revisit the idea later.
Short Stories: I've expressed I want to make some short stories, but I feel like there's a point in WYE I want to pass first before getting into them. But I do have one I'm working on that I want to release alongside Part Two that delves into the past.
Worries About Burnout: I know some of you are/might be worried about burnout, but I feel like I have a good system for myself. Writing is a journey I haven't explored much before. I did write, but it's something I didn't think I was good at because, honestly, I was told I wasn't. I know I'm not the greatest, but I want to grow and learn as a writer. I've been taking breaks to focus on other things I enjoy, even if it's still writing out ideas for other stories.
I appreciate all of the concern in this regard, not just for my well-being, but also for the love of my story. To see it abandoned would be heartbreaking not just for my readers, but for me as well. 'Within Your Eyes' has been an idea long in the making, shifting and growing. It's something I've always wanted to share, and I'm so happy I have!
Time for Questions: I'm ready to start answering some of your questions regarding Part One. Enough time has passed, I believe, to start delving into these. To respect those who haven't caught up yet, I'll include any spoilers under a 'Read More' tag. However, be mindful that some questions themselves might contain spoilers.
Regarding certain asks/scenarios, I think that discovering the answers through the story rather than in a post might be more rewarding. While I may still respond to these, I'll be thoughtful about placing them under a 'Read More' tag as well.
Regardless, I've been thinking more about how I should approach questions, not only in a way that's satisfying to you, but also benefits the story.
Closing Thoughts: Sorry again for the long update. I've been very reflective after releasing a second story, and I hope no one sees this as me diverting from WYE. I'm grateful for every one of you and for all of your words of encouragement and love. I hope you enjoy From Here to Again (if you decide to check it out) and continue to look forward to our Warden's journey.
Thank you!
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Level Up Your Settings
                When I was a younger writer I always considered my settings last in scene writing. It went action -> Characters -> Maaaaaybe setting if I felt like it. This can work—a lot of stories get by without having very memorable or strong settings—after all we’re there for the story within them. But once I got older and started moving and leaving places behind, I began to recognize how much a setting or place can hold—in memory, symbolism, feeling.
                These aspects of a place are just as important to imbue in fiction—they can convey an emotional impact, reinforce the tone, provide details on background. More than anything else, I find setting is where you can imbue your story with magic.
                (Specifically, I’m talking more about individual settings rather than worldbuilding. Check out my worldbuilding posts here!)
Most important to start with is consider what this place means to the character. For example, “home” is a concept as varied as the people who use it. It can mean safety, love, belonging, alienation, escape, confinement, freedom, etc. etc.
                What memories reinforce that meaning of home? How does the character’s background relate to and lead up to their concept of home?
                Then, once you know this, what decoration or ‘look’ would convey this?  A character who views home as a temporary place to be abandoned at the drop of a hat would have very few personal items in their home. Maybe hardly any furniture—maybe they live out of a suitcase and keep only a carton of milk and a box of crackers in their kitchen.
                A character who has lived in the same childhood home for their entire life may have just as much of their parents’ things as their own—their surroundings reflecting generations of loved ones.
                These objects hold memory as much as their surroundings do. This is where we can really explore background and the emotional ties to a place. How loved is it? What does loving a place look like for that character? Maybe love looks like keeping it perfectly clean and tidy—maybe it looks like filling it to the brim with pretty things.
                What makes two characters’ homes different? We want to avoid stating the obvious. You don’t really need to mention that your character has a bed, a nightstand, and a lamp in their bedroom—unless you’re making a point of how little or how much they have. You may want to mention which items are new and which are old—especially if it’s a room that they’ve been in since childhood, or throughout several periods of their life.
                Just like levelling up description—what makes a place unique? What message are you trying to convey?
Good luck!
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fernsnailz · 1 year
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Not sure how much meat this question has to it but if back in 2006 you were the one that spearheaded the shadow the hedgehog game, how would you have done it?
i'd want ShTH 2005 to keep the same core energy its final form ended up with, but tbh there's a lot i would have done differently lol. here's my 3 step plan for how i would have directed it previously/would direct any sort of reboot or remaster
1. TIMELOOP!!!!!!
i'm not the first person to come up with this idea and i won't be the last to talk about it, but the gist of this point is that ShTH's story makes WAY more sense when you treat it like a timeloop. you finished a story path and end up back in westopolis? great job, you're at the beginning of the timeloop again. it's a smart way to make this wack story a little more cohesive.
i would LOVE to further utilize the timeloop concept for this game because it could be a very simple addition to add flavor OR it be the core of the game's story and gameplay. small things like shadow going "hey wait, have i seen this before?" when he's going through westopolis for the third time can hint at the narrative, and once shadow realizes he's in a loop he's motivated to find EVERY path in search of the full truth. every new story path could be treated as a new game+ as shadow starts to consistently remember more from previous timeloops, carrying over certain weapons, abilities, and memories from his previous experiences.
one really cool idea i saw a while ago on here (edit: FOUND IT! i'm talking about this post) is someone's ShTH timeloop pitch where after a few resets, silver starts to show up and tells shadow to stop messing with the timeline. this continues, and eventually silver becomes a final boss of some of the paths. this idea has never left my mind since i saw it and i need to find the person that came up with it they mean so much to me
i have more timeloop thoughts but i will move on for now
2. simplify or rework the morality system and levels
this is my big gameplay critique - there is A Lot to do in ShTH and very little of it is consistently fun. i have grievances with the morality system i talked about a while ago, the gist of my opinion boiling down to "the system removes agency from shadow and the story doesn't fit within the morals you choose anyway." i'd either MASSIVELY rework the morality system to make it feel worthwhile or just throw the whole thing away. unfortunately i don't have many pitches for what to replace it with since i haven't played that many games with branching stories - maybe the story paths you go down are based on BIG story decisions shadow makes during boss battles or in cutscenes (?) like choosing which boss to fight, which characters to save, what moves or weapons to use, stuff like that. i just want the stuff that leads to branching stories to be more impactful and a little simpler.
this also applies to the levels, of which there are... a lot. and maybe there should be less? i think it would be smart to cut down or combine some of the levels, then really flesh out the ones that matter. and given the non-linear nature of ShTH, i think a version with levels more focused on exploration and combat would fit the game better than the linear mission-based gameplay of the original.
3. MORE GUN
listen man. they advertised this as the sonic game with guns and in my opinion i think they could've done better. i mostly just want a more fleshed out weapons system with upgrades, a little customization, better controls, etc. just put the merchant from resident evil 4 in there and have him accept rings and i would be happy
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those are the big points i would personally stick to, but i do have smaller points i would consider as well, including:
make black doom seem competent
explain who the chaotix are working for and fit it into the story
no more "kill this many enemies to progress" missions. please
super shadow can have a gun now
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