#along with so many more quotes from the book

[the-chronicles-of-a-bookworm]

“Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.”

Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

#hannah's dairy entry #the book thief #markus zusak #i just love this quote so much #and im still not over the book thief #the book made me sob so hard #and honestly it'll always be one of the best books i've ever read #i never do these quote post thingies #but this quote is always stuck in my head #along with so many more quotes from the book #this book changed my life

[thoughtportal]

This is a developing news story and may be updated as more information is obtained. If you value such information, please support this Substack.

On Dec. 1, a woman immolated herself with a Palestinian flag outside the Israeli consulate in Atlanta.

Now, according to the Atlanta Fire Rescue Department, the woman — referred to in their report as “Jane Doe” — is alive and “in stable condition” at Grady Memorial Hospital, where she has been since the immolation.

After repeated requests for her name, the department stated to this reporter in an email that it “does not disclose the identities of victims”. Repeated inquiries to Grady, which is a public hospital, went unanswered. The hospital houses the Walter L. Ingram Burn Center.

“Jane Doe” is 27.

When asked if they had made any comment to tell the public that she was still alive this entire time, the official at Atlanta Fire Rescue Department said they “shared the last updated with local media via email on 12/21/23. The release stated: ‘The victim remains hospitalized in critical condition. The security guard, who attempted to assist the burn victim, has been released from the hospital.’” Several internet searches on that quote produce no results. This would also indicate that "Jane Doe" went from critical to stable condition without public notice. 

Aaron Bushnell immolated himself at the Israeli embassy in Washington, D.C. on Sunday, explaining “I will no longer be complicit in genocide” and shouting “Free Palestine!” repeatedly as he burned alive. So, his case — unlike many other self-immolations including Gregory Levey, Raymond Moules, Timothy T. Brown, Malachi Ritscher and others — has received some attention. Thus, “Jane Doe” being ignored fits with the usual pattern. Bushnell is the exception — probably because he livestreamed it. See “Ignoring Immolators Lulls the Society to Sleep.”

As Bushnell was burning himself alive, an officer pointed a gun at him, barking orders as if he constituted a threat. A security guard, Michael Harris, sustained injuries working to rescue “Jane Doe” — but there were similarities, where she was actually viewed as a potential threat.

At one point, the police report for “Jane Doe” refers to it as being a case of “arson”.

Much of the media coverage and general discussion of her self-immolation in December focused on if she had done damage. The Atlanta Police Chief said: “We believe this building remains safe, and we do not see any threat here.” The Israeli government released a statement: “It is tragic to see the hate and incitement toward Israel expressed in such a horrific way.”

Police records indicate that they obtained a search warrant and entered an apartment they believed to be associated with “Jane Doe” — initially using a drone:

The drone was able to relay information as to the layout and the belongings inside. After it was deemed "safe" entry was made with bomb technicians. While clearing the apartment no improvised explosive devices were located.

The police report also noted:

During the search a Quran was found in the bedroom along with a [sic] Arabic dictionary and a Hebrew dictionary. The bedroom bookshelf contained books related to fiction and fantasy. A "Drug use for grown ups" book was on the bookshelf as well. Two journals were seized from the bedroom. A thumbdrive was seized from the bedroom as well. A laptop computer was seized from the kitchen counter. A copy of the search warrant was left in the living room of the apartment. The front door [of] the apartment was secured before law enforcement left the premises.

When pressed for more information in compliance with an Open Records Request under Georgia law, Atlanta Fire Rescue Department claimed: “There is an ongoing and active investigation for the incident in question, which is why the only releasable information has been shared via the incident report. Investigative documentation is not available for release until the investigation is closed.”

#article #jane doe #protest #Palestine #war crimes #police violence

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Neil, my name is Zalean. If you have a few minutes, I wanted to tell you a little story. Not really a question and I’m not sure how to use tumblr but I wanted to say thanks so much for coming to Florida a few months back and talking with Art Spiegelman. It was my first time ever figuring out how to buy tickets for something. I lived in, middle of nowhere, Vermont for most my life and had no idea what I was doing, I had never been to anything before, nothing had made me excited enough to do the 5 hour drive. And then you just appeared 20 minutes away from where I am living now.

See, I was just starting to get to know your books and work because I fell in love with Good Omens so deeply when I discovered it during season twos release. Funny thing is, I knew of you all along without even realizing it, Stardust has been my favorite book and movie since I was a kid because it was my dad’s favorite story. Finding out my two favorite things were actually connected, I started trying to get hands on as many of your books as I could. I hadn’t read in years before finding your books. It was eye opening.

The talk event at the Dr.Phillips Center was sold out by the time I knew about it, someone had asked me if I knew of the event when they saw my Good Omens keychains my mom had made me. I called the box office because there is no harm in asking. I explained how I’m an art student at UCF and desperately wanted to be inspired and learn from you both. The customer service people were amazing and ended up calling me back to get me a seat in the orchestra pit before they were released to the public. I drove alone, I walked there alone, I sat alone, and it was worth it. I was so thankful to get a seat and grateful to my professor who was a bit jealous he didn’t know about it but let me leave class early to go because of course the art professor would be understanding for any learning opportunities in the arts. And it was truly wonderful, it seemed real and that’s what I wanted. I didn��t want a show. I just wanted to hear, in some sense, that you were like everybody else. I brought a notebook and pen for any information or story’s that I thought made a difference to my little life. The other people around were wonderful, you inspire kind people.

Like I said, I had never been to anything like this and I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know you would have signed books and I only found out because the people next to me came in late. I asked them why they brought the books after it was over and the lights turned on. They did look at me like I had three heads for a moment until they realized I didn’t know there were books to buy, they looked kinda sorry for me but they were so nice. I had never really thought about the importance of someone’s scribble before this but it’s something that proves you were there. It says “Remember when this person made you happy? Remember when they changed your life? Remember when they gave you hope? Look at this and remember.” I hope to see David Tennant and Michael Sheen to get an autograph now that I understand the meaning behind it a bit more but honestly I just love diving into everyone’s projects, the wonder you all create. Oh what fun it is to live a life full of stories!

The people that were sitting next to me let me look at their signed books and hold them. I flipped through some of the big ones, handed them back and expressed my gratitude just to be in the theater. I showed them all my little quotes I wrote down, I never want to forget why I create things and you say so much about never stopping, always creating. Then the women handed me a different book, a smaller book, but when I tried to hand it back, a bit confused, she softly placed it back in my open hands and said “I want you to have it, we have plenty and I want you to love these stories just as much as we do. It’s just starting for you, I want you to remember who started it”. The book she handed me being“The Ocean at the End of the Lane”. The first book I decided to read by you and had just finished a week before. The women had no idea she given me a signed copy of the book that made me want to read again. Your books make the world better. For such a big theater and such a big stage, I just wanted to tell you my little point of view.

The story you told about wishing you enjoyed the past more than you did, I hope you get to enjoy it now, and I hope you want to. And thank you, to you and to Terry Pratchett for creating something special. I convinced my dad to watch Good Omens with me over December break, he loved it.

I forget sometimes that everything is someone's first time, and then I read something like this and feel like I need to remember that better. I'm glad the people beside you were kind.

[azulhood]

It all started because of a school project, technically two projects, while it wasn't a world ending threat they set of a change reaction that lead to startling discoveries.

Mr Lancer had given the class the task of looking through their pasts and finding an life changing event that helped shape them into the person that were today and writing about that event.

It was a ten page essay (they were allowed to go over that limit) the more details the better and if you had something from that event to show (such as photos or keepsakes or really anything) you were awarded extra credit.

Danny's choice of event was the school field trip to a nearby museum he went on when he was seven, the space exhibit they had was what sparked his love for the stars and kick-started his dreams of being an astronaut.

It wasn't like he had any other choice (he doubted mister Lancer would accept 'my death' as a good life changing event)

He knew that he had photos of the field trip somewhere with all the other photos taken throughout his life, he just had to find them.

And after digging through thousands of boxes and piles of discarded inventions he handled with care (in case they blew up) he found them tucked inside an old photo album covered in green stains that sat on top of a bookshelf.

Opening the book caused all the pictures to fall into his lap, it seems like his parents didn't get around to actually adding them to the book, Danny resigned himself to spending the rest of his day shifting through old photos.

It wasn't all bad though, he found pictures of when Sam still had blonde hair and wore pink and of that time Tucker wrote an 'I love you' on his parents cars with their keys and many other embarrassing photos.

A treasure trove of blackmail material.

He finally found the picture he was looking for.

All of the kids who are now students of Casper high stood in front of an old building each proudly holding up something they bought in the gift shop (Danny had bought a book on planets that had long ago fallen apart)

It was a normal photo.

And yet, something seemed off.

Sam and Tucker were there with him in between them, Dash was there too.

Along with Kwan, Mikey, Paulina, Valerie, and all the others.

And yet, something was missing.

Then it hit him.

Wes wasn't there.

Danny could've sworn that he had been on that trip, but the more he thought about it the less he was sure.

He couldn't actually remember Wes being there and Danny remembered nearly everything about that trip.

'Maybe he was sick or something?' It was the most logical thing he could think of to explain the other absence, that and his parents not wanting him to go for some reason.

Mystery solved he pushed it to the back of his mind , he had an essay to finish.

Still, it stuck with him.

-----------------------------

The next school project Lencer gave them was one with assigned partners.

Danny got Wes who, despite not being Sam or Tucker, was leagues better then Dash and he'd take that as a win.

Wes had insisted on studying at his house so he could, and Danny quotes "Keep an eye on you Fenton"

Danny could practically feel the hidden cameras burning a hole into him while he stood in front of the Weston's door, waiting for him to go ghost for whatever reason.

Jokes on him though, Danny asked all the ghosts to leave him along for this month with the promise of giving them a head start the next time they caused trouble, so really Wes was just wasting his time.

"This way." Wes said already heading inside without caring if Danny followed.

Being the first time he had ever been in Wes's home Danny looked at everything and anything.

It was a fairly normal home, not like Danny's which had an anti-ghost defense system or Sam's super rich house.

But more like Tuckers

One of the things that drew his attention was the pictures that lined the walls.

There were so many.

Some with Wes and his mom, some with just him, some with just his mom, and some with people Danny didn't recognise.

But there were no baby photos.

The only pictures Danny could find of a young Wes seemed to be from when he was eight? Nine?

And nothing before.

'Maybe they were put away in storage' Danny guessed, but it still made his brain itch.

He remembered looking at old school photos and not finding any sign of a young Wes at all, he didn't even remember Wes coming to school any time before the year Danny turned eight.

And in a small town where everyone knew everyone that really wasn't possible.

'Maybe they moved here and lost a lot of stuff' Which would explain a lot, well no harm in asking. "Did you loss a lot when you moved here?"

Wes stopped walking and turned around to give him a look that asked if he was insane. "I've lived here my whole life, Fenton."

Danny froze, that couldn't be right, he'd remember that.

Something was wrong.

---------------------------------

Tim Drake sat in front of the bat computer as the rest of his family patrolled.

He had one monitor displaying the other bats locations while all the other monitors were used to show him files, or rather the lack there of.

Wayne Enterprises had tournaments held for schools and the prize was an all express paid trip to Gotham and tour of WE and surrounding areas, Tim could think of way better prizes that weren't visiting the crime capital of the world but that wasn't the point.

What was the point was that every time there was a winner Tim preformed a routine background check on students and staff (and by routine he means learn their whole live story) just in case anyone happened to be trained assassins set to kill one of them, stranger things have happened.

Wes Weston was one such student whose background Tim had to check.

And he found nothing.

Sure, there were hospital and school documents from age eight and upwards, but other then that nothing.

There was no birth certificate, no evidence of him attending daycare, nothing.

It was as if Wes did not exist before he was eight years old.

And perhaps the most interesting thing.

Amy Weston was listed as Wes's biological mother, DNA even said as much, and yet Amy's medical file said that she had never been pregnant and also had no siblings that could've been Wes's parent.

And yet Wes existed, appearing one day as if he had always been there.

Was it cloning? Aliens? Magic? A changeling? Someone creating false information to hide the truth?

It was a mystery, and mysteries had always been Tim's Kryptonite.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #is wes a tulpa? a changling? a clone? #who knows #but tim is going to find out

[linkspooky]

Sukuna's Anti-Enlightenment

Sukuna's words in this chapter practically mirror Mahito's words to Junpei from much earlier in the series.

"Do you understand? Life has no weight or particular value. Just like how water flows through the earth, life simply flows. For you, me and everyone else - it's the same. Without meaning. Without value. That's why you can do whatever you want. Live the way you want. Don't limit yourself to just being indifferent. There's no reason to live by such a restricting philosophy. If you're hungry, eat. If you hate, kill."

Both of these characters are rejecting humanity's natural instinct to look for a purpose in life and are instead subscribing to a more animalistic way of living following their basic instincts, if you're hungry eat, if you hate, kill. While the philosophy sounds simple enough there's something much more complex going on under the surface that requires digging deeper into Sukuna's mindset.

A True Curse

By having Sukuna essentially quote Mahito, the story is inviting us to compare them. A literary foil is a character whose purpose is to accentuate or draw attention to the qualities of another character. This term comes from an old technique of placing a thin metal sheet, or foil, behind a gem to make it shine. Sukuna is a character defined by how little both the other characters in story, and the audience understand him, something Yorozu comments on he's simply too powerful and isolated to be understood by the rest of humanity and so he stands alone. Which is why giving him a foil is a way to help the audience understand Sukuna without the author tipping their hand and ruining Sukuna's mystique. The question is what does Mahito highlight about Sukuna, and my answer is Sukuna is what Mahito wishes to be.... a True Curse.

Mahito is many things, but without making this entire meta about Mahito his primary goal along with the rest of the special class curses is to eradicate humanity and replace them as the true humans. They basically want to destroy what humans have created and create a world of curses in their place.

Mahito is the most human like of the curse family, he reads human books watches human movies, even spends time getting to know a few humans personally and he also rejects them the strongest because he is made up of the human fear of other humans. Mahito is the one who reflects humans the most because all the other curses are made up on natural disasters, and yet he wants to destroy everything that's human inside of him and embody a true curse instead.

Which he does in the final phase of his fight against Yuji by literally ripping off his own skin like it's a chrysallis so he can emerge in a more curse-like form. Mahito is like the frankenstein's monster of the human id, he is created by the absolute worst impulses of humanit yand therefore rejects humans implicitly.

He even argues with his fellow curses that they shouldn't act too much like humans. Whend Choso, Jogo and Mahito disagree about whether or not they should revive Sukuna, Mahito argues they've been following Kenjaku's strategy too closely and they should make a game out of it and follow their whims or desires like a curse would isntead of using strategy like Kenjaku.

Mahito's idea of a curse is a creature of the natural world that lives entirely true to its own desires and hunger, satiating it without thinking about the effects their actions have on other people. A lion doesn't stop to ponder whether or not the gazelles its grazing on have feelings. A curse rejects the human need to fight purpose in life, or find deeper meaning or reasons behind their actions and only follow their instincts.

Mahito doesn't just not think about the meaning of life, he actively rejects there being any other meaning besides living to satiate one's needs. Remember Mahito and Sukuna both laugh together at Yuji, and Yuji identifies them as true curses as well.

A scene which is called back to later on in the series shortly after Sukuna takes over Megumi's body.

In a series where even characters like Gojo and Kashimo who view other people as not human in the same way they are will have an aching loneliness and a desire to connect to others, Sukuna and Mahito both seem completely devoid of any humanity whatsoever.

Mahito however, is a baby and a newly formed curse while Sukuna is an adult that's existed for 1,000 years as the pinnacle of Jujutsu. Mahito is essentially the larval form of Sukuna in the story. Quite literally in fact, because he emerged from the chrysallis by ripping his skin off to reveal his true curse form in his final bout with Yuji. Sukuna is what Mahito wants to be when he grows up. Mahito talks the talk, but Sukuna is actually able to walk the walk.

It's a bit like how Gojo, Naoya, and Toji all sort of believe that power makes it so they exist in a different category of people, however Gojo and Toji have the ability to back that belief up with power whereas Naoya just gets his butt kicked a lot. Naoya even crosses the boundary line between human and curse in an attempt to reach the same level that Gojo and Toji were at.

There's a pattern in the series of characters pushing themselves further and further away from humanity becoming curses and rejecting human values of meaning alongside of it. Going from higher thinking like empathy, philosophy, the search for meaning to lower, more animalistic and instinct heavy thinking. Naoya even says that becoming a curse reminds him of his childhood again like he's completely regressed intellectually.

Naoya: This sort of takes me back. There are things that children can't do that are easy for adults. After you grow up, you can't even remember the time you couldn't do it. Well, this is like that.

Jogo also defines a curse as someone who's true to their feelings, unlike humans who hide behind lies and pretend to be something they're not. All of this to say I don't think Mahito and Sukuna's views are nihilistic per se. Nihilism is rejecting that there is inherent meaning to anything in life yes, but in order to reject meaning you have to question it first. Mahito and Sukuna seem to be rejecting philosophy itself, an anti-philosophy philosophy so to speak. Nietzsche considered animals to be un-historic, because they only existed in the presence and have no history. They are, themselves at every instant because they only know of the now.

“Consider the cattle, grazing as they pass you by. They do not know what is meant by yesterday or today, they leap about, eat, rest, digest, leap about again, and so from morn till night and from day to day, fettered to the moment and its pleasure or displeasure, and thus neither melancholy nor bored. [...] A human being may well ask an animal: 'Why do you not speak to me of your happiness but only stand and gaze at me?' The animal would like to answer, and say, 'The reason is I always forget what I was going to say' - but then he forgot this answer too, and stayed silent.”

Cows aren't nihilistic, they're not anything because they just exist. They just exist as individuals in an eternal moment. They just exist.

Mahito: "Emotions come from the soul. It's too simplistic to call it "heart". People overthink things they can't see. I can see the soul so for me it's nothing special. It's practically the same as the human body. It just exists."

Mahito similiarly says that the soul just exists, there's no need to overthink the meaning of it or try to classify the soul as a "heart" capable of feeling emotions because it's just there. Sukuna similiarly doesn't worry about the past or the present, all humans are just momentary distractions to him and he only lives in pursuit of finding his next meal.

They just eat to satisfy their hunger temporarily, not because they find the food delicious or for any other reason. They're just living in pursuit of their next meal. It reminds me of a passage from my favorite existentialist book series Zaregoto.

"They say food, sleep and sex are the three basic desires of makind. But why are we eating this meal right now?" "To ingest vitamins." "Yes. Without vitamins, people die. And thus eating food brings pleasure. Sleeping feels good too, and sex, well, that's obvious. Anything that you hvae to do to stay alive always comes with pleasure." [...] "Now let's imagine someone who's obsessed with eating. In other words someone who eats not simply to take in vitamins, but because he's mad for the sensation of eating itself; for the beauty in the very act. The stimulation of his taste buds. The pleasure of feeling the food pass through his mouth. The joy of mastication. The ecstasy of feeling that mushed-up gook flowing down his throat. The feeling of fullness nearly destroying his satiety center altogether. The euphoia taking over his brain. To a guy like that, vitamins or lacktherof are totally irrelevant. The means and end have switched places for him, so now his main goal is something subsidiary. Now there's your problem. Can you still say this is eating? No, don't answer. You and I both know the only possible answer is no. WHat this guy is doing isn't eat. He's just eating the concept of eating."

Sukuna isn't even eating at this point, he's eating the concept of eating. He's eating because the pleasurable sensation of eating distracts him for a little while, and because looking for his next meal gives him something to do while he's killing time before he dies.

2. Anti-Philosophy Philosophy

They're not even saying that life is meaningless, because that's a conclusion you come to after questioning the meaning of life. They reject the questioning of meaning itself, the attempt to understand either life or other people. They're living entirely like lions prowling the sarangetti for their next meal.

"I've never needed anyone to satisfy me. I eat when I wanna eat, play with what amuses me, and kill whoever's in my way. I live as befits my nature. If no one can grasp that, it's their problem."

Mahito rejects the heart, Sukuna rejects love, both of these things are more complicated human desires than just eat until your stomach is full and kill or be killed.

Sukuna and Gojo both say "Tenjou, Tenge Yuigadoksun - above heaven, under heaven, I alone am worthy of honor" but only Sukuna goes on further to say "all that exists is my pleasure and displeasure". Even Gojo wants to be understood by others even if he thinks that normal people can't understand him and he exists as a different species from them, but Sukuna himself even rejects the fact people might understand him. They do, or they don't, it doesn't matter to him because he only needs to udnerstand himself. Sukuna's practically lapsing into solopism here.

Solopism is the philosophical lens that only one's mind is sure to exist. Knowledge outside of one's own mind is unsure, the external worlds and other minds cannot be known and might not exist outside the mind.

Solopism builds on the failure of Descartes maxim "I think; therefore I exist" which fails to provide any real details about the nature of the "I" that has proven to exist. Solipism asserts the only thing certain is the "I" - one's most certain knowledge is one's own mind, my thoughts, my experiences, my emotions. There is no link between the occurence of a certain conscious experience or mentals tates and the "possession" or behavioral dispoistions of a "body" of a particular kind. The experience of a given personality is private and only understood by that person. The solipistic view of Sukuna is that his experience in the present, what he's feeling, is the only thing that matters and everything else may as well not exist.

I'd only say it has things in common with solipism though, because even Solipism questions reality which Sukuna doesn't question anything. Suuna doesn't feel the need to question things or grow because in his mind his understanding of himself is perfect and complete which is why he doesn't need anyone else's comprehension of him.

In freudian psychoanalytic theory you could align Sukuna's behavior to the ID (I Desire). Jung and Freud both believe in a divded consciousness, but Freud divides it into three, the id, the ego and the superego. The id is the insintcts, superego is the higher thinking like morality, and the ego is the mediator between the two. The id is the most primitive and instinctual part of the mind. For example a child is said to be all id, because they don't understand rules or other people's feelings they only want to fill their basic needs. Mahito would be the childlike aspect of the id, because he is a newborn fledgling cursed spirit.

The id also follows the pleasure principle, which Sukuna's philosophy also follows "all that exists is my pelasure and displeasure." Freud argues the pleasure principal is an ingained survival instinct "what decides the purpose of life is simply the programme of the pleasure principle". The Id is made up of the life-sustaining activities such as eating and sex, and it makes these things pleasurable so we will pursue them. However, there's also a counterpart to the pleasure principle in the human psyche that is the reality prinicple, which is the human capacity of defer gratification of a desire when a situation doesn't allow you to have immediately what you want. The id is ruled by the pleasure principle, and immediately wants all of its desires granted at the cost of everything else, but mature human egos are able to delay instant gratification for a higher objective.

Sukuna basically lives by the rule of the pleasure principle. He's shown capable of long term planning if he needs to like taking Megumi's body, so he's not incable of delaying instant gratifciation but at the same time his ruling princple seems to be seeking immediate pleasure. Sukuna is a walking appetite, he literally has a mouth on his stomach.

There's also the alchemical trinity to consider, mind, body, and soul. In this Sukuna is the body. Not only is he a body hijacker who has literally transformed Megumi's body practically into his own, but he also only lives to satiate the phyiscal needs of the body.

This is where Sukuna would differentiate himself from solipism though, because he needs to exist in a physical body. His entire quest over the course of the manga is to regain a body, he needs to eat, he needs to fight physically, he wouldn't be comfortable just existing as a brain within a jar he needs to stay in the physical world. He lives for the physical pleasures of this world.

What about the Body character?  There isn’t one in every alchemy story, but when this does appear, the markers are predictable.  Body characters are focused on their bodily needs--they are hungry, thirsty, and, in adult stories, lusty.  And they are often fearful. Think of Papageno in Mozart’s opera, the Magic Flute, who breaks his vow of temperance and starts eating and drinking on stage, lamenting his lack of female companionship.  Or Wiggins in The Little White Horse (he’s a beautiful, vain King Charles spaniel, always focused on his next meal). Or Sméagol/Gollum, who eats compulsively though his main lust is for the Ring.

Sukuna for instance wouldn't be happy living like Tengen who exists far outside of humanity simply observing others, because he has a need to interact with the world in the form of eating, or experiencing earthly pleasure.

In fact after going through several philosophies which don't quite describe Sukuna's own philosophy (because it resembles these while inherently rejecting the need for philosophy) we might come to the closest comparison for what Sukuna's desire is, which is to exist for as long as possible on the earthly plain while filling up his stomach.

Sukuna is comparable to the Celestial Demon Mara in budhist mythology, more on it in this thread. In budhist cosmology, Mara is the "personification of the forces antagonistic to enlightenment."

Devaputra-mara specifically is the deva of the sensuous realm, who tries to prevent Gautuma Budha from attaining liberation fro m the cycle of rebirth the night of his enlightenment. The existence of Mara is to defy Budha, and specifically to prevent his escape from the cycle of the world, especially the sensuous realm. He exists in opposition to the three marks of existence too.

Number one impernanence, that all existence, without exception is "transient, evanescent, inconstant". Number two Dukha "Suffering, pain, unsatisfactoriness" is inherent to life. Number three antaa "Non-self, non-soul, no-essence."

If the ultimate goal of budhism is to escape the cycle entirely and stop being reborn in the sensuous realm, Maara instead tempts people to stay in this realm. it defines impernanence by suggesting we stay in this realm forever. It defies Dukha by saying we indulge in physical pleasures in this realm, that we should seek to satisfy ourselves even if budhism argues that life is primarily unsatisfactory. Then if the ultimate goal of existence in budhism is the "non-self" to escape ego, Maara argues we should remain trapped as ourselves forever.

We even see Sukuna literally tempt a budha-like figure into remaining in this earthly realm. After all aren't we shown that Gojo achieved enlightenment at seventeen and let go of earthly emotions like the need to be angry and avenge Riko's killer because the feeling of oneness with existence was too good in that moment.

A lot of people noticed what they thought was Gojo acting out of character in the fight with him and Sukuna, by enjoying the fight and choosing his selfish desire to love jujutsu and fight as a sorcerer over his responsibiltiy to protect children. Something which Nanami says in his dying hallucination that Gojo only ever lived for the pursuit of his selfish desire for Jujutsu in the first place.

Gojo, a character that we know has a higher minded ideal that he's fighting for the next generation of sorcerers is shown losing that ideal in the fight with Sukuna, and only caring about his earthly pleasures, having a satisfying fight against a strong opponent. You could even say that was Sukuna's goal in the fight, to strip off Gojo's fish scales so to speak and reduce him back to being a normal human being. Something which he accomplished when he managed to learn to cut the space that Gojo inhabited, therefore negating the infinitity that protected him and dragging him back to this earthly realm.

"This is goodbye. You were born in an era without me and hailed as the strongest yet you turned out to be painfully ordinary..."

In a way Sukuna tempted Gojo away from enlightenment and succeeded. The linked thread goes on to say that Budha defeats Maara to save his students during his temptation, but Gojo on the other hand died and failed protecting his students specifically because he chose the earthly pleasure of seeking to have fun in a fight over the well-being of his student Megumi who's body was possessed.

He made a human being again out of an enlightened Gojo, and dragged him back to morality and the cycle of death and rebirth by making Gojo care more about his selfish desire for a fight than the principles he fought for. Sukuna trapped Gojo in the mortal realm along with him.

Sukuna's philosophy sounds like Mara's too, that rather than seeking anything better you should just distract yourself from the unhappiness of life by indulging in pleasures to stifle your misery.

I'd say Sukuna lives the same way. He doesn't consider himself weak, but he doesn't talk about life or this world like it's a fun place to be. He tells Yuji to stifle his misery. He then admits to Kamo that his purpose in life is just to eat delicious things to kill time until he dies.

"Life is just killing time until you die" sounds like a miserable kind of hedonism, since he's only distracting himself from the unpleasantness of life. Sukuna too might just be spending his life stifling his own misery by seeking endless pleasure on earth. He doesn't want to escape earth however, he wants to remain on earth for as long as possible. Kamo even pointed out the strange contradiction in his own philosophy.

Sukuna insists he doesn't need to be understood by others, that he's not alone, that fighting and eating his way through life is enough for him because he understands himself and all life is just enertaining yourself until you die anyway, but Kamo asks why if he's just satisfied with that kind of life did he go to the trouble of ripping his soul into twenty pieces and trying to regain his body 1,000 years later.

Sukuna notably avoids this question. He doesn't tell Kamo why he even bothered to divide his soul up and extend his life if he's perfectly satisfied with life as it is. We don't get the answer to why he wants to possess Megumi or is going through all this trouble.

That's where we get to the greatest snag in Sukuna's philosophy, which ironically relates back to the tug of war between the pleasure principal and the reality principal.

Sukuna's philosophy is that he's never needed anyone else "I've never needed anyone to satisfy me. I eat when I wanna eat, play with what amuses me and kill whoever's in my way. I live as befits my nature. If no one can grasp that, then that's their problem."

The big glaring flaw in Sukuna's philospohy that he's only ever needed himself is kind of like the flaw in the american "pull yourself up by your bootstraps philosophy" its that everyone including Sukuna needs other people. Sukuna isn't fighting with his own strength alone right now. He stole it from Megumi. He could have conceived of a way to beat Gojo without the Ten Shadows yes, but right now Sukuna wouldn't even be able to exist in the physical world without Megumi's body.

He is literally a parasite in a teen boy's body, using him to his own ends and yet he insists that he's the only one that exists or matters and he's always been able to accomplish everything he wanted with his own strength. Sukuna's a parasite right now, arguing that he's the greatest individual and has never needed or relied upon anyone.

The Great and Mighty Sukuna is defiling a young person's body for his own gain, the same way that Kenjaku defiles women and his own children, the same way that the elders manipulate the young in Jujutsu Kaisen to maintain their power base in Jujutsu Society. This supposedly all-powerful erson who only ever relies on himself and only needs his own ego wouldn't even be alive right now if he wasn't paraisitizing Megumi's body, yet he argues that he's completely fulfilled in himself.

A freudian perspective argues that a mature ego finds a balance between the pleasure principal (the need for instant gratification) and the reality principal (the ability to defer instant gratifiaction when the situation doesn't allow for it). Whereas a child is only ID and only cares about fulfilling their most basic needs first and foremost.

Sukuna is paradoxically presenting his views like he's a fully realized, enlightened adult the absolute peak of sorcery, the most developed and intelligent sorcerer in the world, etc. etc. yet he has the underdeveloped ego of a child because he has no grip of the reality principal. A person who doesn't interact with other people or the world, can't learn or grow from it. Which is probably why the closest character you can compare to Sukuna is Mahito, a literal child and a newborn curse. Even Mahito fails to become a true curse in the end.

Sukuna says he rejects enlightenment, and any higher philosophy in order to remain in the earthly realm forever, but one wonders if that isn't the same as the Miltonian Lucifer rejecting heaven to reign in hell.

The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heav’n of hell, a hell of heav’n. What matter where, if I be still the same, And what I should be, all but less than he Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least We shall be free: th’Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: Here we may reign secure, and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell; Better to reign in hell than serve in heav’n.

The theme of Paradise Lost is that any sinner, even Lucifer, can stop at any time and seek forgiveness instead. However, Lucifer chooses not to do that. He could leave hell at any time but he chooses to stay. He’s fine in hell after all. He’s totally gotten used to the temperature by now. Everything is fine Lucifer says, while everything is on fire.

Lucifer would rather stay in a hell of his own creation because it gives him the illusion of control over his life then admit he was wrong or give up that control.

He may be king of hell however, but he's still in hell. Hell is not exactly the most pleasant place to be. King he may be, but he's trapped here the same as everyone else.

Sukuna may be the closest a character has come to being a true curse, he might have transcended humanity, the human need for love, but he still can't escape the earthly realm. In fact his entire philosophy is a mara-esque avoid enlightenment and stay in the earthly realm as long as possible. In a series where characters like Yuki and Kenjaku are trying to evolve cursed energy into something different, either by completely removing it, or by optimizing it and forcing it to take a new form Sukuna is someone who is stagnant and resisting that evolution. Why would someone who's already perfect need to evolve in any way?

That might just be Sukuna's downfall in a way. By rejecting other people, by rejecting the human need to seek meaning in life, he may have made himself completely stagnant. After all if Sukuna already accepts everything about himself, if he is a fully realized individual then why would he need to change?

He can steal techniques and knowledge from others of course, but that's what he always has done. The real question is how would Sukuna who's the perfect sorcerer, who's never been anything other than a sorcerer and lives to be one, exist in a world where the definition of what a sorcerer even is will probably change by theend of the manga?

So Sukuna may ask "What can a little boy hope to accomplish here?" but a child like Yuji is capable of the one thing that Sukuna isn't, growing and changing into something better.

#jjk meta #ryomen sukuna #mahito #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 238 #jujutsu kaisen 238 #jjk spoilers #jjk 238 spoilers #jujutsu kaisen 238 spoilers #yuji itadori #itadori yuji #sukuna

[semiotomatics]

i meant to make some big well-written post abt it but unfortunately my brain was otherwise occupied experiencing The Horrors so instead, have some wordvomit

this past monday marked twenty years since i went on a field trip to the library and ran my hand along a bookshelf in the children's fiction section and found a book called So You Want To Be A Wizard* and brought it home and read it cover to cover in like. a day. and i couldn't even begin to explain how that day has shaped my life but i do just wanna acknowledge it and say that i'm so glad my friend let me borrow her library card (cause i didn't have my own yet) so i could bring the book home and i'm so glad my mum special ordered the rest of the series from the local independent bookstore almost immediately after i finished it and i'm so glad i discovered the forums and i'm so glad i found so many cousins on tumblr—including my best friend and platonic soulmate @astraldepths—and i'm so glad i got to help plan and execute crossingscon (twice!!) and that i got to meet so many of you in person—INCLUDING DD HERSELF—and i'm just. so glad i discovered this series

i have like twelve copies of SYW but i think my favourite is the twentieth anniversary edition (which is now, itself, twenty years old—wild), because it contains both the short story Uptown Local, which i adore, and an afterword by DD, which i have read entirely too many times. anyway, i wanna share a quote from that afterword, bc it seems fitting:

Wizardry, too, changes with the times, because its practitioners do...and indeed it must change, to keep up with the Lone Power, Itself never averse to using new means to Its old end. Even the Wizard's Oath will seem to change from time to time, altering its appearance according to species, age, cast of mind, and (sometimes) simply according to where you're standing, in time and space, when you examine it. But beyond that, as the series continues, I can promise that some things will always stay the same—the knowledge of a partner's dependable friendship; a shared go-for-broke determination to get it right when the Universe is watching; and the glad adrenaline rush caused by the sudden incursion of the unexpected...as when you run your hand down a row of books on a library shelf and one of them catches your finger.

so yeah. in lieu of a more coherent post abt it, i just wanna say. thank you @dduane. for everything 💚

#this has been an original post #personal spewage #young wizards #dying rirhait noise #*technically i discovered High Wizardry first and read the first page and was like ''i feel like i'm missing something'' lol #then i noticed it was the third book in a series so i went looking for the first #but anyway #my point still stands #also if you saw the version of this post where i tagged the wrong diane duane: no you didn't

[gurugirl]

Good Friday*

soft dom priest!harry x sub!reader

Summary: Based on this request. Y/n is a brat and she's in for it.

A/N: Thank you for this request! I did change the request slightly due to some safety 'caging' rules for while he was away but I think you'll like it. 4.8k words

Warning: 18+ only, smut (oral), bdsm w/consensual sexual punishment, use of flogger and other instruments, cage play, dom/sub dynamic, religious themes (actual bible quotes), blasphemy

Priest!harry Masterlist

It wasn’t unusual that Harry was busy. He was often pulled away from Y/n for members of his parish that needed him. But Y/n didn’t like that. She wanted to have his attention all day every day. Of course, that was impossible. Especially on Good Friday before Easter.

“Father please, let’s just stay here a little longer.” She was nearly purring as she crawled down his body to worship his frame. Both were naked in their bed together. Harry had Y/n lie on her tummy and read out of Song of Solomon as he massaged her back and bottom. He knew she would get like this so he was trying to do sweet things for her before he left her all afternoon. And now she was turned on and warm and needy. But that was exactly his plan.

“Can’t pet. You know I’ve got to get to it. I have responsibilities other than you. You know that.”

Y/n pouted and looked up at him as she continued moving down his torso, keeping her eyes locked on his. Her intent was to lick his cock and make him give in. He rarely did. His willpower astounded her.

“Please. Father, I need you,” her eyes glinted upward over his form as she lowered her mouth to his prick which was already half-plumped.

“Ah ah ah… you’re not listening to me very well, pet.” He pressed at her forehead to stop her from applying her lips to his skin. As satisfying as that would have been. He really did have things to do. And he enjoyed denying himself (and her) immediate pleasure.

She sat back as Harry got off the bed and began dressing and combing his hair. She followed him and watched with a sad face and the occasional sigh so he’d know how sad she was.

He bit the inside of his cheek to hide his smirk. He enjoyed this.

Just before he picked up his bag to leave he pointed to the bedroom as he looked at Y/n, “In the cage. I’ll be back in two hours to check on you. I’m not going to lock it since I’ll be gone so long but I do expect you to be in there for me when I return.”

She had books and a glass of water and a nice blanket so her cage wasn’t all that bad. In fact, she loved it. It had never been a punishment for her. But there was something about being in the cage while Harry was away that gave her comfort and made her feel safe.

But two hours was a long time. And when she looked at the clock and realized that Harry hadn’t returned when he said he would she began to worry. She let herself out to use the bathroom and peek out the front window. She was undressed, wearing only her red collar with its bell and her gold choker necklace. Running her fingers over the H that dangled from the necklace she straightened the curtains back out and sat on the couch.  

And the longer she sat and considered everything the more upset she got. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t just go with him. There would be so many people at the church no one would catch on.

Although, there was the one time that he brought her along and she kept lingering around where Harry was and listening in and peeking around doorways to spot him.

No one noticed it but Harry did and he scolded her for it, saying she was being a little too obvious. Plus they were still treading thin ice after the prayer group incident where Mr. and Mrs. Jeralds might have seen or heard something that night. They still didn’t know either way. Which led to Harry’s new rule. That she was only allowed on regular days of service until they were certain they were in the clear.

Returning to her cage, she pulled the door closed and laid down on her side with a frown. She was a bit worried about the priest. He said two hours and it had nearly been three.

When she heard the front door open and his footsteps into the house she sat up quickly and crossed her legs, awaiting his presence. But before he went into the bedroom to see her she heard him go into the kitchen first.

Now she was angry that he didn’t immediately come to see her first. She crossed her arms and leaned back into the bars and cinched her brows together.

Harry pushed the bedroom door open and looked at the cage where his pet was sitting with a frown and body language that told him she wasn’t happy. He figured she might be a bit put out by his tardiness. Harry was never tardy.

“What’s wrong pet?” He knew what her answer would be.

Except she didn’t answer him. She stared down at her crisscrossed legs and pouted instead.

Sliding the handle to open the door Harry crouched down to get a closer look, “I asked you a question. It’s rude not to answer.”

Silence. She hugged her arms around her middle tighter and jutted her bottom lip out, face angled downward.

“I know I’m late but there’s no reason for you to act like this. You know I get held up sometimes. I’m busy, Y/n.”

The first noise that sounded from her was a scoff as she closed her eyes. She knew she’d be in for it with that.

Harry licked his lips as he nodded, “So it’s like that then? All right. Look at me.”

Y/n held her ground, not moving, nor opening her eyes. She was going to make a point.

“You’re acting like a child. Did I somehow leave a lovely and mature adult woman and come back to a bratty immature little girl?”

Turning her head to look down to the floor next to her knee she huffed and sunk into herself further.

“So that’s it then? You’re no longer my sweet lover? Just a brat? Someone that needs to be punished and not loved on?”

Her ridged composure softened the slightest. She would prefer to be loved on yes, but being a brat was always a good way to get his attention. And she knew he was leaving again soon to go back to the church for a few more hours so her best bet, in her mind, was to act out and have him put his attention on her and get him worked up in the process. Maybe he’d spank her.

Harry reached a hand in and brushed it over her naked knee, “Because I had planned on coming home to you and holding you. Giving you something special for being my good pet before I have to go back to church. Clearly, you don’t want that.”

Y/n looked up at the priest and rounded her eyes. She suddenly regretted her behavior but she was already committed so she stayed silent despite the obvious hesitation Harry saw in her.

“Come on. Get out.” Harry took her hand and gently pulled at it.

She didn’t budge at first. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her giving in so easily. But eventually, she did move and crawl out of the cage when Harry stood up and raised his voice to have her come out.

She sniffed as she stood and looked down at the floor.

“Look at me.”

With a heavy sigh, she slowly turned her eyes up to his.

“Good. Now, go use the bathroom. Right now.”

She knew what this meant. He was going to lock her in her cage (at the very least) while he was away and he needed to make sure she’d emptied her bladder beforehand. They’d done this before.

Silently she made her way to the bathroom as Harry filled a glass of water for her in the kitchen.

When he heard the sink turn off after she’d washed her hands he knocked on the door, “Come out here.”

She was pretty sight stepping out into the hallway. Her cheeks were hot and her little red collar looked so lovely on her neck. Harry looked down over her nude shape. Soft breasts, a pretty belly button, grabbable hips and thighs, a bottom he loved biting.

“Drink.” He handed her the glass of water and watched as she took a few gulps of it and handed it back to him.

“Is that all you want? You’re going to be in the cage for another few hours so if you get thirsty that’s going to be on you.” Harry always made sure she stayed hydrated even when she wasn’t going to be locked in her cage. He always took care of her the best he could.

She nodded silently and looked downward again.

Harry nudged her toward the bedroom and made her turn to face the cage. She half expected him to spank her or something but instead, as he walked away and then returned put the leather gag belt over her face, “Open,” he said plainly.

She opened her mouth and the silicon ball fit between her lips and silenced any noises she might have made. He secured the belt in place behind her head and removed his hands from her completely. Which she hated. She wanted him to spank her or manhandle her or something. But he was rather cold and his touch was missing completely.

“We’re going to put these in,” Harry put his hand out showing her the weighted Ben Wa balls. “Take them.”

Y/n took the balls in her hand as her priest pushed at her low back, causing her to bend forward the slightest. She heard the snap of a cap and then felt his fingers on her entrance as he smeared lubricant over her.

The set of balls were connected with a thin rubber-like string. The first one was larger and the lightest, which aided in keeping them in place inside of her, while the other two were smaller and heavier. The cord would stick out and make pulling them out easier.

Harry took the balls from her hand and pushed her thighs further apart, “Relax.”

She felt him push the first, larger ball inside, his finger plunging into her deeply to secure it before inserting the next two one by one. It was a pretty view. He loved stuffing them inside of her. Plus it was good for her pelvic floor muscle so he felt like he was doing her a favor really. Though it was more for edging her than anything else in that moment.

“Get in,” he gestured toward the door of the cage.

She climbed in, clenching to keep the balls in place, and got to her knees as she looked up at Harry with big, pleading eyes. He knew that if she weren’t gagged she’d have somehow found her voice in that moment and begged him to spank her or stay with her. But he didn’t have time to argue with her or listen to her soft voice and whimpers as he left. The gag was for that purpose. More for himself than to punish her.

Harry locked the cage and shook his head, “Had plans to love on you but instead, this is what you deserve. Had a hard day today, pet, and I still have to go back and endure more hours away from you yet you chose to act like a bratty child so I didn’t get to come back home to my pet and hold her and kiss her like I wanted. I needed you. Maybe when I return later on you’ll be better behaved.”

Harry sat the glass of water down next to the cage for her so she could reach out and grab it if she needed it. Next to that, he placed her cell phone (in case anything went wrong and he needed to return home to unlock her cage). Her heart swelled at his kind gesture and his words. Now she truly felt awful. Felt so bad for being so mean to him when all he wanted was her love. Now she’d really gone and done it.

Harry grinned to himself as he walked out the front door and headed down the street to the church. Tonight, he would have fun with his pet.

Y/n imagined all the scenarios of what would happen. Surely she’d get a good punishment when he got back. But she’d make sure to show him her appreciation. She’d be so good for him. She’d kiss his feet and say yes, Father to everything and love on him and allow him to do whatever he wanted to her.

He could have tied her up and blindfolded her too. He could have done a lot worse but he gagged her. The sentiment was clear. You don’t want to talk? Okay, we’ll make sure you don’t make even a single peep then.

And the Ben Wa balls? Those weren’t really a punishment at all. She loved how they felt inside of her. Made her feel full and each time she moved the balls slid around inside of her. She had to clench and clamp down to keep them in but that only got her more worked up and wetter by the minute.

This time Harry was away for another three hours. Just over. She’d been lying flat on her back looking up at the ceiling and watching the shadows move along the walls when the sun changed position in the sky as Harry got home.

He entered the bedroom and she quickly scrambled to her knees and looked up at him as she gripped the bars of the cage. She was sweet again. But he already planned on doing some not-so-sweet things to her.

He unlocked the cage and helped her stand up. She pressed her thighs together to hold the balls in place as he undid her gag. Three hours was a lot for the gag to be on and when he saw the way the leather dug into her skin and caused red marks he did feel a little bad. But just a little.

“Spread your legs.” He was still being quite cold with her but at least his hands were on her this time as he gripped her thighs.

She opened her legs up and Harry groaned. She was puffy and wet. The little cord that stuck out a few inches was shiny with her arousal, “Are you all hot and bothered, pet? Did this get you worked up?” He cooed as he smoothed his hands upward on her thighs and slowly got onto his knees, looping his finger into the handle and pulling.

“Yes, Father. I was imagining it was you inside of me. Almost came once but I stopped myself because I know you wouldn’t want that.”

Harry watched as the first ball made its appearance, shiny and slippery, “That’s right. I wouldn’t have been very happy if you’d let yourself come. But I hope you know you’re not going to be allowed to come at all tonight. You were a brat to me earlier.”

She bit her lip and nodded, “I’m sorry, Father. I know I was bad. I hope you can forgive me for my behavior. I don’t deserve to come. Your punishment is just whatever you decide for me.”

When Harry had removed the slippery balls he smiled as he stood and gently smeared her arousal over her mouth before putting his pointer and middle finger over her tongue and in her mouth, “There’s my good pet. Keep showing me how well-behaved you are and tomorrow I’ll give you something special in the morning like I planned earlier.”

Harry removed his hand and turned around, leaving Y/n standing breathless and needy by the cage as he cleaned the balls. She stayed put.

When he came back into the room he put the balls back into their rightful spot and pulled out a flogger. The one with oiled leather falls. The one that hurt quite a lot. But it was Y/n’s favorite when she knew she’d been bad.

She understood quite well what Harry was doing. He’d made her sit with the Ben Wa balls for hours to edge her and now he was going to flog her and not allow her to get off at all. The orgasm denial was going to be the real punishment in this scene.

Harry handed her the flogger as he pulled the metal suspension bar and straps down from the ceiling. Her eyes widened. It’d been a while since he’d had her cuffed to the suspension bar.

He pulled at the Velcro cuffs and motioned for her to come to him, “I’m sure you thought maybe I’d spank you, but you love spankings too much.” He pulled at her wrist and lifted her arm to secure her into the first cuff and then taking the flogger from her he pulled her other arm up, securing the Velcro to her wrist, “So, no spankings for you tonight. You’ll get this instead,” he tapped the leather braided handle over his palm as he spoke.

Y/n nodded silently.

“Tell me, pet, what’s happening right now.” He needed to know she was able to verbalize what was going on. A check-in of sorts.

“You’re going to punish me for being a brat, Father.”

“That’s right. You made my hard day even harder and so I’m going to make your hard day even harder too. It’s only fair. Isn’t that right?”

She nodded, “Yes, Father.”

Harry circled her frame as she tried to keep her eyes on him while he walked around her slowly.

“And what’s this for?” He gently brushed the falls over her shoulders, letting them slide down over her breasts.

“To flog me. Because I’ve been bad.”

“Yes. But why this one? We’ve got some lovely soft ones I could use. The rabbit one you love to play with. Why this one?”

“To mark me. To show me how I’ve sinned. The stripes are for the servant who knew their master’s will but did not get ready or act according to his wishes,” she quoted a partial verse from Luke in the Bible before continuing, “and so I will receive a lashing.”

Harry smiled, “Good. Smart girl. That’s exactly right. Are you ready to be made righteous again?”

“Yes, Father. Please. Make me righteous.”

The first thud over her back bit into her soft skin and stung as expected. She didn’t whimper nor make a peep. She was ready for the bite.

The second one had her hurling forward a few inches and sucking in a sharp breath.

But the third had a gasp falling from her mouth and her eyes squeezing shut at the pain.

“Blows that wound cleanse away evil; strokes make clean the innermost parts.”  Harry quoted a passage in Proverbs as he issued the fourth strike.

She bit down, clamping her teeth together, and squeaked as her body swung forward.

He watched the red marks on her skin grow a deeper hue and begin to welt as he continued, “I will punish their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes,” he spoke calmly as he landed the flogger down over her back again. The fifth hit.

The first tear rolled down her cheek as she tried to stay composed. The smarting sting all over her back was beginning to expand and wrap around to her ribs slowly as he brought the oiled leather falls over her back again. She yelped.

“This is for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, pet. You’re doing well. I’m proud. Only four more.”

She sobbed at his praise and nodded with her lips trembling. Her fists were clenched together tight as she braced herself for number 7.

“Repeat after me,” his lips pressed onto the top of her shoulder before he got back into position behind her, “I am but a sinner seeking forgiveness.”

She opened her mouth just as he applied strike number 7 and she whimpered as she swayed forward and panted her words, “I am but a sinner seeking forgiveness.”

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper,” he draped the flogger over her back softly before bringing it down hard over her back for the 8th hit.

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper,” she spoke weakly as the pain was immense and her shoulders were beginning to ache from the way she was putting all her weight onto them.

“But he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.” Another blow to her back as she wobbled and cried out at the ninth.

“Uh…” her breath shuddered as tried to remember the words. She knew he was quoting Proverbs but suddenly the words escaped her as her mind began to stretch thin into paper and airy like dandelion seeds, bending slowly into her submissive state, “I’m sorry. I forgot, Father. I need help.”

Harry dropped the flogger to the ground as he noted her voice was tiny and that her composure had been lost. He took her wrists from the Velcro suspension bar and let her fall into his arms, “That’s enough then. You’ve done well.”

He brought her to sit on the bed next to him and lifted the glass of water up to her lips to make her drink. Her eyes were full of tears as she looked at him sweetly and gulped down a drink.

“There you go. Are you okay, pet?” He softly brushed her hair from her face and spoke quietly to see where she was.

“I’m okay, Father. I just forgot the verse you said and I couldn’t repeat it. I’m sorry. You can keep going. Only one more.”

Harry shook his head, “No that’s enough for now. I bet you’ve learned your lesson.”

Y/n whined and shook her head, “No. I need more. I was so bad. Please.”

She sunk down to the floor and put her hands on his knees and slid her palms up his brushed wool pants to the tops of his thighs, “Please.” Her rounded eyes begged him for more.

“What do you want then? Hmm? What do you think is appropriate?” He tilted her face up as he tenderly grasped her chin.

“I want you to come. I need you to or I don’t feel like I deserve your forgiveness.”

“Okay. And how should I come? What should we do to make that happen?” He brushed her wet lips and felt his heart go wild in his chest. He knew what she’d ask for. What she’d beg for. Something that she loved that was never a punishment.

“Please, have my throat and my mouth. I beg you. Choke me with your cock and come wherever you want. I’m yours to use however you please.”

Harry smiled and pushed his thumb into her mouth, “This mouth? Want me to fuck it? Gag you with my come? Is that what you want?”

She nodded, “Yes, Father, please.” Her words were mumbled over his thumb that he still had pushed into her mouth.

“Good girl,” he stood up. “Undo my pants.”

Y/n lifted her fingers to his button and then pulled at his zipper before yanking the material down and then bringing his cock out of his boxer briefs. He was already angrily hard.

“It’s so yummy, Father. My mouth is watering,” she whispered as she inspected him. His cock was right in front of her face, tempting her to taste but she would wait until he gave her permission.

Harry chuckled and wiped the drool from the edge of her mouth, “Your mouth is watering, pet. Well, then. Get to it.”

She immediately jutted her tongue out and began licking him up and down as she kept her eyes on him. This was the easy and soft part. The moments before she sucked him into her mouth and he began to fuck her face.

Harry watched his pet swipe her wet tongue over his shaft and peck warm kisses along his soft skin. A beautiful picture he wished he could have framed and hung up in his living room. He was sure that his parish would not approve.

When she finally popped his tip into her mouth and sucked he grasped her hair and sunk himself into the hilt and groaned.

Harry had been worked up since that morning when he left her. He wouldn’t last long but he would make it good, for both of them.

He began to rock his hips into her as he held the back of her head to keep her in place. She grasped onto his thighs and gagged every time his smooth tip bent down her throat.

“Keep your eyes on me, pet. Want to watch those tears fill up in your eyes.”

She did her best. It was hard to keep them open the way she knew he wanted. His cock was wide and long and every time she gagged and gurgled over him she was tempted to smush her eyelids closed. But she was determined to be the best girl she could be for him so she kept her eyes on his, even though her sight was blurred from the moisture beginning to fill in her vision.

“Yes… my sweet pet. Loves getting her throat fucked. Just made for sucking cock, aren’t you?”

Y/n hummed around him in response as he pulled out before thrusting back in, his cock curving down her throat and she heaved in reflex to the obstruction hitting her tonsils.

“Choking darling?” Harry spoke amusedly as she drooled and forced her eyes to stay open.

He could feel her nails digging into his skin tightly. If she needed air she’d let him know so he continued getting himself off in her mouth. A low groan fell from his lips as he used the hair he had carded between his fingers to move her over him as he pleased, pressing her so far down her nose grazed the skin and hair at his base.

And he was quite pleased. Even when he was holding her down on him and she was coughing and gurgling, she was still looking upward into his eyes with her bleary ones.

Her face was wet and her mouth was stretched out, puffy pink lips wrapped around his dense cock. He smiled down at her and pulled her off of him so she could catch her breath. His own chest rose and fell rapidly as he was right on the edge of his own orgasm.

“Taking me so well,” he gently wiped his thumb over her temple, “I think it’s time for your reward. What do you think?”

She nodded quickly, her fingers still pinching into his skin in anticipation of what was to come, “Need it. Please, Father.” Her voice was a bit scratchy as she spoke but he knew she’d want it.

With his fingers still in her hair he moved his other hand down to her throat, wrapping his palm around the collar as he pushed her down over his shaft and then held her in place as he began to fuck into her throat in heavy thrusts that had her wincing and swallowing around his tip with each punitive glide.

His thighs began to shake and his mumbled words and groans grew louder, “Fuck baby, fuck… Open up for me… Just like that…” He looked down at her wet, hot little face as he held her still for his cock.

He choked out a gasp as he began to come, stilling his harsh thrusts and burying himself in beyond her soft palate and uvula. His cock twitched and throbbed as she swallowed him down like the good girl she always was for him once he got her on her knees before him this way.

He watched her blink up at him with doe eyes as he pulled himself out. She gasped and heaved as saliva spilled out of her mouth and down her chin.

Harry reached for her under her arms to help her stand and gently turned her to look at her back, making sure she was still okay.

“Time to get you cleaned up, pet. Then we’ll make dinner and watch something on TV together. How’s that sound?”

Nodding her head she clung to him as he brought her into the bathroom to wipe her back with a rag and help her clean up between her legs. He had her face the mirror as he stood behind her and began to dab the cool rag onto her skin where the raised flesh was bright pink and hot under his hand.

She looked at him through the reflection of the mirror, “Thank you, Father.

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Tags: @love-all-things-writing @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme

#firstpost #harry styles #harry styles smut #forgive me father #priestrry #priest!harry #harry x reader #dom!harry x sub!reader #dom!harry #softdom!harry #sub!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry #harry smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shots #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic

[goforshexgo]

Smart one

You were up studying for a test, strange maybe for your other vk peers except for Carlos, but you cared about your academics and liked to do well academically. Halfway through your notes you heard someone start knocking hard on your window, it was Jay Al Jafar, one of your closest friends and the boy you had the fattest crush on. Not like you'd admit that, though. You rolled your eyes as you got up and opened it.

"Man, how many times do I have to tell you not to knock so damn hard, Jay." You scolded as the long haired boy climbed through your window, grinning.

"Yea yea, 'It's held together by broken hopes and dreams.'" He quoted as he walked further into your gloomy room before sitting on the dilapidated footboard of your bed and crossing his arms as he gazed at you with his signature smile. Rolling your eyes again, this time with an additional head shake and a smile. You sat back down at your desk and started your studying again.

"What do you want Jay ?" You asked but it sounded more like a statement, earning a pout from your dark haired friend.

"How lowly do you think of me to think that I came over to see you just because I wanted something from you ?" Jay pouted as he feigned hurt before a charming smile overtook his again as he walked over to the run down desk you sat at

"Very. Now what do you want ?" You questioned again not bothering to look up at Jay, who was now standing next to you, his hands planted firmly on the desk as he looked down at you.

"Anthony got this new watch, I want it." Jay confessed with his signature smile, the smile that you loved hated. "And he's throwing a hellraiser tonight."

"I'm not going to a party just to help you steal his watch." You told him flatly continuing to look down at your tattered text book and notes that smelled of mildew.

"Oh c'monnn, you owe me anyway." Your head snapped up to him upon hearing his words. You didn't owe Jay shit.

"I don't owe you shit, Jay." You asserted pushing back in your chair to cross your arms across your chest. Jay chuckled before moving his face closer to yours.

"Oh come one, just this once ?" Jay pleaded, looking at you with the prettiest brown eyes you swore you ever saw.

Hiding the flustered feeling you feel at his proximity you spoke.

"Oh, just this once ? You know it funny because I remember you said that when you asked me to try to steal one of Cruella's coats ? Oh, or when you tried to steal from Gothel and you got me to distract her ? Oooo, or what about the time you tried to convince me to sneak you into-"

Jay cut you off before you could finish the long list of "Just this once's"

"Okay okay, so it's not just this once but I swear it's worth it."

You stare at him with a bored expression as he talks

"And why is that Jay ?"

"Uh, because you get to spend time with me."

"Get the fuck out Jay."

"Come on, you know you want to spend time with me."

His voice sing-songy

You wanted to spend time with him, bad. Like embarrassingly bad. You'd never admit that though.

"Nah, I'm good."

You rejected

"C'mon... please ?"

Jay begged as he grasped at your hands, and VK's never said "please."

"Fine, but you owe me Al Jafar ."

You asserted as you stood, a finger pointed at his chest

"Yes ma'am."

.

.

.

When you got to Anthony's party it was already in full swing. The lights were dim and moody, the music was blaring and kinda shitty because of the busted speakers that the people of Auradon threw away to the people of the isle, and the air smelled of mold, sweat, and expired perfume along other expired hygiene products. Bodies danced and grinded, others stood in corners and chatted or tried their best look as evil and pretentious as possible.

"What now Jay ?"

You questioned as you looked around at the party that went on before you

"Gotta find Tremaine."

Jay answered as he grabbed you hand and walked into the party.

You felt your stomach leap as he made contact with you, frantically looking down where you two were now connected, then smiled to yourself small-ly

The two of looked around for three minutes tops, Jay still holding your hand, before he turned around to you.

"Can't find him, wanna dance ?"

He offered casually.

"We looked for less than five minutes."

"And we couldn't find him, so do you want to dance."

With a roll of your eyes, you agreed and began to dance.

"Was this your plan all along, Al Jafar ?"

"You really are a smart one, huh?"

I changed my mind for the plot of this fic last minute so I'm sorry the ending is lackluster. Also I haven't written fanfic in years. ISN'T HE JUST DREAMY THO 😍😍

#jay descendants #disney descendants #x reader #fanfiction #evie descendants #mal descendants #carlos de vil #jay x reader descendants #jay x reader #jay al jafar #jay Agrabah #descendants #descendants x reader #descendants jay x reader #descendants headcanons #reader insert #female reader #booboo stewart #sorry this was kinda short #and the ending kinda rushed

[frenchoravocadotoast]

Basim Ibn Ishaq headcanons

Basim Ibn Ishaq x GN!reader

Word count: 1003

Basim is an “actions speak louder than words” man. He’s kind of reserved by nature and has spent many years mastering the art of controlling his emotions during his time in Alamut.

That being said, his love language is definitely acts of service.

It starts off small – you both have a passion for literature, a common ground he has yet to realize. He’s talking to Fuladh about a recent poem he’s just read, reciting his favorite lines, when he hesitates at the end. He’s trying to remember the final verse when you jump in and quote it for him, and Basim shoots you an amused look.

“Since when do you enjoy poetry? ”

He tries to surprise you sometimes – he likes to lend you his favorite books, and if you indulge the man, he’ll even rant about his favorite poets/poetesses and their works. It becomes a bonding mechanism between the two of you, and it might look corny to an outsider; but you see how excited Basim gets when you say you liked the book he gave you, and suddenly, it’s like their opinion doesn’t even matter.

When the life of a Hidden One keeps you up at night –whether that be because of a nightmare or a stress-induced fever– Basim keeps you company. He knows the feeling all too well and refuses to leave you alone, unless that’s something you want. He will sneak into your room with a bowl of fruit and a book in hand.

“May I offer you a poem in these trying times”

Boom you’re sold

It’s a secret of his, but he likes writing poetry, too. He’ll die before admitting it though – and anyone who dares read his work will have to pry it from his cold, dead hands.

That being said, he might let you read something here and there (only the poems he’s revised a hundred times), but you have to swear that you won’t tell anyone.

You don’t mind. It’s like your little secret anyway.

Despite his preference for acts of service, he’s going to try to compliment you every now and then. You can always tell he’s being genuine, and when you thank him, he grants you a warm smile and a courteous nod.

He’s a very good listener. You could be talking about anything and he’d be listening intently, nodding along and asking questions. And nothing escapes him, really – he’s got an amazing memory and will remember your birthday, your favorite food, the friendly camel you met two weeks ago, or even the day you first saw fireworks. 

He remembers that day well. The bright lights were sizzling and popping in the sky as you watched them, transfixed. You’d turned to face him with a big grin on your face, and in your excitement, asked him an obvious question: “Did you see that?”

He smiled and nodded, because of course he did.

He didn’t. He was looking at you.

But besides that, nothing escapes him!

He has a habit of shielding you from the elements. When it’s scorching hot, he hovers his hand over your face to keep the sun from your eyes. When it’s windy, he likes to use his stature to shelter you from the breeze. And on rainy days, he cocoons you in scarves and cloaks to keep you from getting wet.

Basim starts laughing more around you, and you both become incredibly closer. You have so many inside jokes that it’s hard to keep track of them, and perhaps it’s starting to get to the other Hidden Ones too. Roshan just sighs as she watches the two of you because you’re both oblivious fools.

He definitely starts coming out of his shell with time, even dropping a pick up line here and there. The first time it happened it caught you so off guard he panicked and lost all sense of his training in three seconds.

“Well, – Nehal is calling me. I’ll see you around.” and he tailed it out of there, tripping over a vase before regaining his footing and scrambling away.

He wouldn’t approach the subject again, and if you were in his proximity he would be as stiff as a board – until you made a move too. You flirted with him out of the blue and he just widened his eyes and pointed at you.

😳🫵🏽

Things change from there and he tries to flirt more (and he’s so dorky he makes everyone within audible distance groan and leave). You’re organizing the books at the bureau, the one place you probably frequent more than your own home, when he comes in.

“You come around here often?”

You give him a deadpan expression, because he can obviously do better than that, and he grimaces.

“Yeah. No more of that.”

Biggest supporter ever. If you speak another language other than Arabic, he wants to know all about it. He’s a smart man, he can learn a couple of expressions quickly, and pretty soon you’re having simple conversations in your tongue. 

That being said, if you cuss someone out in said language he’ll probably try to remove you from the situation. He’s not keen on confrontation, especially with civilians, but if they wronged you in any way, he’d be all like “Yeah, what they said!” “And you better remember it!”

An absolute sucker for forehead kisses. He’s not very fond of PDA but he always kisses your temple when he has to leave or walk past you. It’s a ghostly touch, you almost don’t notice it, but it makes your cheeks flush every time.

Likes to hold your face in his hands and just look at you. It can end with him either smiling and kissing the corner of your mouth (on a good day) or pulling your hood down to blind you and ruin the moment (when he’s feeling a little silly). You call out his name and he just barks out a laugh as he climbs onto the rooftops.

He’s actually a little shit (affectionate) (derogatory)

#assassins creed #assassins creed valhalla #assassins creed mirage #basim ibn ishaq #ac basim #ac mirage #ac mirage x reader #basim ibn ishaq x reader #basim ibn ishaq x you #basim x reader #assassins creed loki #assassins creed headcanons #ac mirage headcanons #assassins creed mirage headcanons

[rustytrident]

beelzebub who has obscure knowledge because he cares so much about his brothers' interests, they become his, too – or, a slight beelzebub character study at 3am because i need it and so do you.

beelzebub who can name every constellation in the night sky of all three realms, who knows both astrology and astronomy, who has read all of belphie's essays and research papers, who was there when they were written.

beelzebub who knows how to play (and cheat, and win) about every casino game, who knows how to do fast math even if he doesn't really care for it, who checks the fucking stock market every morning to see if mammon's mood will be affected by it or not.

beelzebub who knows the difference between the scent of white and red roses, who knows how to properly do your (and his) makeup, who has memorised which products are good for his complexion and how many times a day he needs to apply sunscreen, because asmo swears that the fridge light hits him as much as the sun would have in the human world.

beelzebub who can quote jane austen and poe and shakespeare and euripides from memory, who makes references from books that were destroyed with the library of alexandria, who knows about every breed of cat there is, who listens to satan explain whose fur is the thickest and whose the softest.

beelzebub who will rewatch tsl for hours, who will carry boxes upon boxes of games upstairs, who will (poorly) draw ruri from memory, who will know how to play most games levi hyperfixates on and the plot from most anime he has rambled about.

beelzebub who knows even the most bizzare of genres of music, who can taste the difference between a thousand year and a thousand and one year aged demonus, who immediately recognises the jazz song lucifer is playing when he wants to spend quality time with him but doesn't want to disturb him.

beelzebub who, if you ask him about his interests, will reply that he doesn't really have any, who will search within him for an ounce of self, who will give up after a while because he is six beings in one, and he doesn't know if there's room for one more.

beelzebub who decides that it's okay to be a mosaic of his favourite beings, who finds out that he has been carrying seven in him all along, who gazes in your – a human's – eyes and understands why she fought and why she fell and why she tried so much.

beelzebub who, in his spare time, will go in the human world to visit museums and archaeological sites and long abandoned villages, who will reminisce about when everything he just saw was once new and shining, who will retrace the steps he took aeons ago, alone this time.

beelzebub who often feels lost, who grieves and eats and grieves some more, who carries the memory of his sister because he once read that one truly stops existing when they are forgotten, yet smiles when he sees red roses and shiny coins and old books and video games and cursed records and the starry sky, who sighs into your neck right before he falls asleep and promises to never forget the way your skin feels under his.

beelzebub who, without you asking him, tells you he likes flowers and animals, who likes everything the sun touches, whose eyes glimmer when you ask him to tell you about yarrows and their meaning and their colours, who will explain in a heartbeat, just for you.

beelzebub whose self is a wounded one, a fighting one, whose self is a memory box he just keeps adding into, a scrapbook of eternity's erosion, who finds happiness in the little things, in the simple things, who binds his family together.

beelzebub who loved and loves and will love until there's nothing of him left, until he is the last one remembering, until the night sky is no longer a painting, but just an accumulation dead stars.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #beelzebub obey me #beelzebub x reader #i feel like he has so much depth #and if he doesn't he does in my head #some people only view him as the nom nom himbo but good lord #i beg to differ #finally being able to let out the 2 year beel brainrot to real humans and not the voices in my head is fantastic #i hope this wasn't too messy #sing me a song // the song of our glory

[fangirleaconmigo]

Abortion in The Witcher Books

Would anyone like to come along with me on a deep dive regarding abortion in The Witcher books? Not enough people talk about the fact that Geralt of Rivia is explicitly pro-choice and that the sorceresses are seen providing reproductive care, including abortion, on multiple occasions. So, let's do that.

There are a lot of things you can say about The Witcher books, feminism, misogyny, and the male gaze. (I am considering doing my first video on this very topic. It is complicated. This is not a 'the books are perfect' post) But one thing we can never say is that they are wishy washy about bodily autonomy, and more specifically, abortion. (In fact, that is the entire point of Ciri and Geralt's arc, which I will get to at the end of the post)

This topic came up awhile back because a 'witcher school' was closed after the owners were found to have ties to far right organizations, including anti-abortion organizations. So, I did a little thread on twitter about it, wondering how you can call yourself a Witcher fan (to the extent that you license a fan activity business!), and miss the entire fucking point. It was my most popular (and ofc hated by others) tweet ever, which was interesting, but I was mostly surprised that so many people were shocked to learn that Geralt of Rivia is, as a character, canonically, verbally, explicitly pro-abortion rights.

So I’m going to put the info here too in case any of you here find it interesting. Obviously there will be spoilers for the books.

TW: discussion of sexual assault, pregnancy, and basically anything having to do with reproductive health.

Before I start, I want to say that the book refers to abortion in reference to rights for women throughout, so that is the language in this article. I want to be clear that I (as an individual) understand that abortion is relevant to other genders and that I support it for trans men, non binary people, literally anyone. Abortion should be safe and on demand for all. But this is not a post analyzing my views on abortion, but the appearance of abortion in fictional psuedo medieval-esque fantasy world of The Witcher books.

Ok, I’ll start with the fact that sorceresses provide reproductive care in the books, including abortions.

In, The Last Wish (p210) Geralt tries to give Nenneke money to help Yen with fertility treatments. (In the books he does not mock her desire to have a child) He knows Yen wants to be a mother, and he wants to help. Nenneke replies that she does not need his money, and that providing abortions pays a hell of a lot better than witchering.

"You're more of an idiot than I thought." Nenneke picked up the basket from the ground. "A costly treatment? Help? Geralt, these jewels of yours are, to her, knickknacks not worth spitting on. Do you know how much Yennefer can earn for getting rid of an unwanted pregnancy for a great lady?"

Witches as providers of abortion is a very common trope in fantasy fiction for a very good reason. In order to stamp out paganism and polytheism, European colonists vilified the village wise woman as a murderer of children, hence the 'boil them in a pot, stuff them in the oven' stories about witches. Many people interpret this as the vilification of abortion. In the classic 1972 feminist text Witches, Midwives, and Nurses: A History of Women Healers, Ehrenreich and English quote Malleus Maleficarum, the witch hunting manual written by Catholic clergymen in 1487, to show that women providing reproductive healthcare was one of the 'characteristics' of a witch.

The witch that provides reproductive healthcare fits in very well in the witcher world, where Geralt and the witchers are embodiments of the working class who are used as tools and exploited. They are loathed until they are needed. The same is true of abortion providers. They are hated until they are needed, and they are always needed.

It also fits in well with the themes of class. In the Witcher books, it is stated multiple times that it is upper class women who are accessing this care from sorceresses. That is real. It is the truth that outlawing something very very often only means outlawing it for the poor and working class. The wealthy always find a way.

In Season of Storms, the sorceress Coral and her assistant Mozaïk provide reproductive healthcare to "wealthy, upper-class ladies" on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Geralt comes to speak to Coral in chapter sixteen and both of the women are wearing white doctor coats. They have just helped a woman deliver a baby and it is implied that the baby died and they are both upset. They do not want Geralt there, because (it seems to me) they need space to grieve, and they do not expect him to understand. They send send him away, suggesting he go spend time with Dandelion.

She walked over and kissed him on the cheek without a word. Her lips were cold. And she had dark circles under her eyes.

She smelled of medicine. And the fluid she used as disinfectant. It was a nasty, morbid scent. A scent full of fear.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she forestalled him...She looked at him and it was a faraway look, from beyond a chasm of time and events between them. He needed a few seconds to understand how deep that chasm was and how remote were the events separating them.

"Maybe the day after tomorrow would be better. Go to town. Meet that poet, he's been worried about you. But now go, please. I have to see a patient."

After she had gone, he glanced at Mozaïk....

"We had a birth this morning," she said, and her voice was a little different. "A difficult one. She decided to use forceps. And everything that could have gone badly did."

"I understand."

"I doubt it."

"Goodbye Mozaïk."

There are multiple other references to abortion in relation to sorceresses; I won't quote them all. But I'll leave you with one other reference. In Lady of the Lake (pp114), in a very funny moment, Angoulême says she has a 'small problem' and Fringilla replies:

"I understand," nodded the sorceress. "It's nothing dreadful. When was your last period?"

Angoulême is rather put out at the thought of being pregnant.

"What do you mean?" Angoulême leaped to her feet, frightening the chickens. "It's nothing of the sort. It's something completely different!"

So, sorceresses provide abortions and other reproductive care.

But what about the men? What about the heroes?

Well, several of the male protagonists state explicitly in no uncertain terms that abortion is an inalienable, sacred right. That includes Geralt himself.

Here is Geralt taking to Queen Calanthe in Sword of Destiny (p345). She asks him whether he hates his mother. In the course of his answer, Geralt says that abortion is “a choice which should be respected, for it is the holy and irrefutable right of every woman.”

"A choice. A choice which should be respected, for it is the holy and irrefutable right of every woman."

That’s a strong goddamn statement. There’s no doubting his meaning or the strength of his conviction. And it isn’t just Geralt. Dandelion (Jaskier), Cahir (he is traveling with Geralt as part of the hansa in the books, please set aside anything you think you know about him from TWN), and Regis (Geralts dear friend) all explicitly support abortion rights, quite passionately.

In Baptism of Fire (p317), one of Geralt’s dear friends (my favorite, the love of my life, Milva) shares that she is pregnant. They are on a brutal journey through a war zone looking for Ciri. So it’s complicated. Another friend, barber surgeon vampire Regis has prepared an elixir for her to induce an abortion. So, not only do sorceresses provide abortions, but so do vampire barber surgeons, one of the most lovable heroic characters in the books.

But before he administers it, Regis gathers the rest of the company. Regis knows Milva feels like shit at the prospect of burdening them, so he is worried that she is making the decision under duress. They don’t immediately understand why he is bringing the matter to them.

At first they think he is asking for opinions on whether she should get an abortion. They are baffled. Cahir answers first. He says in Nilfgaard it is always a woman’s right to choose.

"In Nilfgaard," Cahir said, blushing and lowering his head, "the woman decides. No one has the right to influence her decision. Regis said that Milva is certain she wants the medicament. Only for that reason, absolutely only for that reason, have I begun-in spite of myself-to think of it as an established fact. And to think about the consequences. But I'm a foreigner, who doesn't know...I ought not to get involved. I apologize."

So, Cahir says that maybe it’s a foreigner thing. Maybe it’s different for them. Dandelion (Jaskier) is offended and outraged by the implication that they believe any differently.

"What for?" the troubadour asked, surprised. "Do you think we're savages, Nilfgaardian? Primitive tribes, obeying some sort of shamanic taboo? It's obvious that only the woman can make a decision like that. It's her inalienable right. If Milva decides to--"

At this point, Geralt cuts Dandelion off. Geralt alone actually understands that there is something else happening here, that they are misunderstanding Regis and further questions are in order. Geralt begs Dandelion to stfu, which the bard misinterprets. He thinks Geralt is disagreeing with him and is considering opposing Milva's right to choose. Dandelion LOSES HIS TEMPER at the thought that Geralt would deny Milva her right.

Geralt becomes even more irritated and angry at the implication that he would do such a thing.

So, not only do we have witches as abortionists in The Witcher books, we have men, the hero (Geralt) his best friend (Dandelion), my beloved Regis, and Cahir say explicitly that abortion is an inalienable right.

And that should be no surprise.

Bodily autonomy and reproductive rights is at the very heart of the story. You do not have The Witcher story without it. It drives the narrative, the conflict, and Geralt and Yen's character arcs.

There is a criticism I see floating around quite a bit, that having Yen's story driven by her desire to be a mom and to physically reproduce is anti-feminist, or at least a tired reductive trope of women being defined by their maternal instincts.

I get that. I get tired of womanhood being defined by reproduction and motherhood as well. Biological essentialism when it comes to gender is exhausting and regressive. However, in this context, it is entirely clear to me that the point is NOT that all women should want to be pregnant. The point is the bodily autonomy, to be pregnant if you want to, and to not be pregnant if you don't want to.

Look at Ciri. She essentially becomes the main character by the end, and the idea of being pregnant repulses her.

So, in Lady of the Lake, Ciri is being held captive by elves, who want to do the same thing to her that everyone else does--breed her. The deal they offer her is, she does not 'have' to have sex with anyone until she is impregnated, but if she doesn't, she can't leave. (So, if she is to access what every human wants--freedom--she has to. This is still rape. It is coerced sex) She is understandably distraught and enraged. The part of that deal she seems most disgusted by, is the idea that she could be pregnant.

"But I don't want to!" yelled Ciri so loudly that the mare skittered beneath her. "I don't want to, understand? I don't want to! The thought of a bloody parasite being implanted in me is sickening. I feel nauseous when I think the parasite will grow inside me, that--"

She broke off, seeing the faces of the elf-women.

So yes, she is distraught that her bodily autonomy is being taken from her yet again. But perhaps the most upsetting part is the idea that she could be pregnant. It physically repulses her.

Now. Let's put this in context.

In this psuedo-medieval-esque setting with royal families, being used as a brood mare is COMMON and ACCEPTED. IN FACT, Calanthe, Ciri's OWN GRANDMOTHER was marrying her off against her will, betrothing her as a child. No one thought this was weird. It's your duty, right? No big deal. Even Geralt, when he first met Ciri, thought it would be a better life for her. Sure, it's against her will. But it's physically safe and luxurious. And he leaves her behind in Brokilon.

But at some point, Geralt puts two and two together. He connects his trauma with hers. He makes a decision that even if almost no one around him in his culture or on the continent, sees the importance of her bodily autonomy or agrees with him, he's protecting her. Not just against death, but against anyone taking her choice from her. When he is having a mental breakdown in Brokilon, worried about her, he tells Dandelion that he is trying to protect her from what happened to him. He doesn't say, she can't die. Or I can't let her be killed. He says she cannot be alone. She cannot go through what I went through. Here, I"ll let him say it: (Time of Contempt, p240)

"Listen to what?" shouted the Witcher, before his voice suddenly faltered. "I can't leave---I can't just leave her to her fate. She's completely alone...She cannot be left alone, Dandelion. You'll never understand that. No one will ever understand that, but I know. If she remains alone, the same thing will happen to her as once happened to me...You'll never understand that..."

"I do understand. Which is why I'm coming with you."

Honestly, I tear up thinking about it.

And Yen, well, she has a similar arc.

Yen has been abused and used as a tool, and along the way she has accepted that this is the way things are. Yen has even done the same to others. But she looked into that little face, those wide green eyes, and at some point she also connected the dots. There's another way of doing things, and maybe it is possible for a little girl to choose for herself. And even if it isn't possible, maybe the important thing is to fight for it. Maybe Yen can give her whole life to let a child just be a child.

Yen goes through torture and imprisonment for Ciri. She shoots lightning at a god, she shouts at a goddess, she drops through a portal into the sea, she gives up every last shred of political power she has spend ninety years accruing, she WILLINGLY tries to give her own life MULTIPLES TIMES, to save Ciri.

And from what? Death? Not always. At the heart of all this sacrifice is that Yen has made a decision that Ciri gets be a human who is given the dignity and respect of deciding what to do with her own body. To be a kid, not a tool. To be a person. To be free.

So Ciri gets to say, actually, for me, the idea of pregnancy is terrifying and repulsive and therefore, I don't want to do it.

In the end, Geralt, a person whose body was tortured and experimented on before he was too young to consent, and Yen, a woman who was abused and used, and BOTH of whom had their reproductive rights taken from them, decide to love Ciri and protect her bodily autonomy at any and all costs.

That is what drives the story. It drives the narrative. It drives both Geralt and Yen's character arcs. It is, in fact, the entire point.

So it should not be a surprise that abortion, and the right to have an abortion if necessary, is an inextricable part of The Witcher world. No, you cannot analyze these books and find 'perfect politics'. They are not politically correct. And there are many parts I can critique. I mean, we can critique anything. (and I do)

But I find it endlessly interesting that people who are conservative or right wing think that this property 'belongs' to them, and they want to push everyone else out, when all they have to do is pay the most minimal amount of attention and have really only two (2) brain cells to rub together, to see that they are indeed, incorrect.

#the witcher #the witcher books #thinking about the witcher books yet again #thinking about geralt of rivia yet again #thinking about yennefer of vengerberg yet again #thinking about ciri yet again #feminism #abortion

[casurlaub]

Why Wolfstar makes sense canonically

Call me delusional but welcome to my TED talk

Most of this has been said repeatedly by others over the years. I don't mean to steal anybody's credit, so if you feel like I have, please reach out.

This is me 'defending' Wolfstar, I'm not hating on another ship here and I won't engage in a discussion about which ship makes more sense. I'm just trying to elaborate why I can 'see' Wolfstar - even from a canon perspective.

I'm trying (and hoping to succeed) to be respectful and I'm not attacking a specific person here. This is just a general post with all my thoughts on the matter and all the arguments I've heard against it.

Brace yourself because this is going to get really really long, and there'll be a lot of quotes from the original source material.

The original source material

I feel that many people who claim the ship doesn't make sense fail to see that we're in this fandom because it did make sense to us after reading the books. The fandom exists, because many people saw it. Because it's possible to see it. It's not the other way around.

The thing with Wolfstar is, that it's all in the 'show not tell' which I suppose makes it 'easy' to overlook. Obviously it is, with the author not intending the ship - I'm not saying wolfstar is canon, but it makes a lot of sense with what we have in canon.

Their nonverbal communication

They have a lot of nonverbal communication going on, which shows a great level of understanding for one another. But they're not only able to read one another, they're actively (and both of them) communicating via eye contact - a lot. They're searching for the other person's eyes and are passing along 'thoughts', are reaching silent understandings just like that. That hints at a great emotional connection.

Let's do that 'chronologically':

It doesn't take more than a single look from Sirius to convince Remus that he is innocent. At this point Remus doesn't know shit about what really happened. He admits so himself later on, he keeps asking Sirius questions later on. And yet again he's so ready to believe Sirius,

Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised an ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet. 'Expelliarmus!' Lupin shouted. [...] Lupin caught them all defty then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest. [...] Then Lupin spoke, in an odd voice, a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. 'Where is he, Sirius?' [...] Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand, and pointed straight at Ron. 'But then… Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind. “'Why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless...-' Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, '-unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?' Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin’s face, Black nodded.  [...] Lupin lowered his wand. Next moment, he had walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled hm to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother.

And then he says, still without having received any explanation, just like that,

'I haven't been Sirius' friend for twelve years, but I am now... let me explain...'

They are so in synch with their actions without even having to talk about it; they're forming a united front (I'm getting to that later on), they're again reaching a silent understanding just by looking at one another (again),

Both Black and Lupin strode forwards, seized Pettigrew's shoulders and threw him backwards onto the floor. [...] Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised. [...] Black and Lupin both looked staggered. [...] Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

I think it's also important to note that they do not just look, but look to check for each other's opinion on the matter. Harry asks them not to murder Peter and of course they listen to him, but they first look at each other as if checking to be on the same page. So - they've just reunited after over twelve years and immediately take the other person into consideration (I'm getting to that later on).

Then in OotP there's the famous fourty line stare where Remus is just intently staring at Sirius while he and Molly are arguing, as opposed to the others who are watching the conversation (who does that?),

'Lupin, who had been about to take a sip of whine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary' [...] Lupin's eyes were fixed on Sirius. [fourty lines of back and forth between Molly and Sirius] 'Personally,' said Lupin quietly, looking away from Sirius at last.

And it's not just Remus doing it. It's mutual. They act like a unit (again, getting to that). They care for each other's opinion and they do know each other so well that a single fleeting look is enough for them to check in with the other,

He [Harry] thought he saw Sirius and Lupin exchange the most fleeting of looks before Sirius answered [...]

And again when Harry contacts them via floo to discuss Snape's Worst Memory, they do it again,

They exchanged a look of great surprise [...] Lupin glanced sideways at Sirius, then said, [...]

They communicate via touch, too:

Black's wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual [...]

So - Remus does not only convince headstrong Sirius to back down nonverbally just by looking and touching him, no I think it's also important to note that Remus, who isn't a 'touch person' (he's awkward when comforting Molly, he (as far as I recall) never hugs Harry, always just shakes hands), doesn't even seem to think twice about touching Sirius. No, he immediately pulls him into a hug, then is restraining him physically when he tries to launch at Scabbers, then continues to communicate via looks and touch. After twelve years of separation he's immediately comfortable enough to initiate it.

They're super in synch - also with how they say things

It carries through the whole of OotP, really. Sirius says something just for Remus to say something immediately afterwards or the other way around. When they're together in a scene, the vibe is always them carrying the conversation together, one adding to the other's thoughts.

It already starts in PoA,

'They didn't say what they thought they saw !' said Black savagely [...]. 'Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter,', said Lupin nodding.

But in OotP it's taken to whole new levels. It's too much to put here, but in that conversation where they tell Harry about the Order it's basically:

said Sirius / said Lupin /said Sirius /said Lupin... throughout the whole scene. One of them says something and the other one adds. And again. And again. And again.

And it happens again (though not to that extent) before Harry's Ministry hearing. In the Boggart scene. And then again when they discuss 'Snape's Worst Memory'.

They're also portrayed as being close to one another (distance-wise) repeatedly throughout OotP.

Like when Remus is there chances are Sirius isn't far. That doesn't have to mean anything of course but the frequency puts out a certain vibe to me,

'I said - shut - UP!', roared the man [Sirius] and with a stupendous effort he and Lupin managed to force the curtains closed again

Honestly, I think it's kind of funny that even when there're a number of people the two of them are always mentioned right after one another. Before Harry's ministry hearing, at Ron and Hermione's party, when Mrs Weasley is battling the Boggart, in the Department of Mysteries,

He pushed it open and saw Mr and Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Lupin and Tonks sitting at [...] Sirius, Lupin, Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there Lupin had come running into the room, closely followed by Sirius [...] [...] and five more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley.

And then when Harry floos to see Sirius after he has seen 'Snape's Worst Memory' Remus is there again-, casually sitting at the table and reading and Harry mistakes him for Sirius even (because he's looking so at home?). But Remus immediately knows where to fetch Sirius and comes back with him quickly after. That just has such a domestic vibe to me.

[...] long wooden table where a man sat poring over a piece of parchment. [...] 'Sirius'? [...] It was not Sirius, it was Lupin. [...] 'I'll call him,' said Lupin. [...] And Harry saw Lupin hurry out of the kitchen. [...] Lupin returned with Sirius at his heels moments after.

Remus and his relationship to his friends

Remus mentions Sirius first when he speaks about his friends, although in every other occasion it's always James who's mentioned first. He always says 'James and Sirius'/'your father and Sirius'; it's always James first, Sirius second, but when he's talking about him finding friends for the first time in his life, it's suddenly Sirius first,

'I had friends, three great friend. Sirius Black... Peter Pettigrew... and, of course, your father, Harry - James Potter.'

I don't think that necessarily means anything though, but I felt like adding it just for the sake of it... (I know the author stated James supported Remus after Hogwarts, not Sirius, implying they were (always) closer, but - and that's just my general personal approach - I don't care much for what she said in any Interviews/on pottermore/wizardingworld.com or whatever. She's contradicting herself so often there (see below). To me it's always books first and the books show that Remus and Sirius are close as adults whereas we don't have much information about Remus/James).

Then Remus is very obviously operating on double standards when it comes to Sirius as opposed to Peter. In his conversation with Harry it's insinuated that he doesn't want Sirius, who he believes to have betrayed Lily and James and killed Peter and twelve others, to receive the Dementor's kiss.

'He deserves it,' he [Harry] said suddenly. 'You think so?' said Lupin lightly. 'Do you really think anyone deserves that?

Yet later when he learns the truth he has no qualms whatsoever about killing Peter. He doesn't stop Sirius, he doesn't hesitate, he's joinng in. Why's this so different suddenly? Selling away your friends lives and framing your other friend (Peter) isn't worse than selling away your friends' lives and killing your other friend (allegedly Sirius), is it? So if their 'alleged' crimes are comparable, why is Remus acting different about Peter's than he is about Sirius's?

'Shall we kill him together?' 'Yes, I think s,' said Lupin grimly.

It's not about him thinking the Dementor's kiss was worse than death either. Because he as no qualms to bring Peter to the Dementors when Harry stops them from murdering him. So... why the double standards again?

Sirius/Remus also so do 'relationship behaviour'. I mean the whole nonverbal communication already, but also,

'Sirius, sit down.' [...] Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white.

'[...] I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough.' Sirius half-shrugged, but did not argue. 'I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!' said Sirius forcefully, and he actually made to stand up, but Lupin wrenched him back down again. 'If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!' he said firmly

Remus understands Sirius and is looking out for him

Remus gets Sirius even after over twelve years of being separated. Sirius is impatient in PoA, because he - finally - wants to take revenge on Peter. Remus not only sees that but tries to stop him. To me it reads as if he knows that Harry's opinion is important to Sirius, will be, once he sees clearly again and that he doesn't want him to destroy his chances with Harry by acting too impulsive. Because his intervention isn't rooted in his concern for Peter's life obviously, because he's ready to kill Peter once they explained everything,

'Sirius, NO!, Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again. “WAIT! You can’t do it just like that - they need to understand - we’ve got to explain -“ 'We can explain afterwards!,' snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off, one hand still clawing the air as the tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron’s face and neck as he tried to escape.  'They’ve - got - a - right - to - know - everything!,' Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. 'Ron’s kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don’t understand! And Harry - you owe Harry the truth'

And then again he's stepping in when Sirius is not doing himself any favor with Harry (again),

'And why did he fake this death?' he [Harry] said furiously. 'Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents.' 'No', said Lupin. 'Harry-' 'And now you've come to finish him off!' 'Yes, I have,' said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers. 'Then I should've let Snape take you!' Harry shouted. 'Harry,', said Lupin hurriedly, 'don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down - but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father - Sirius tracked Peter down-'

And then Remus is stepping in - again - when it's getting too much for Sirius,

'Harry... I as good as killed them', he [Sirius] croaked. 'I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment [...] I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed and their bodies - I realized what Peter must'v done. What I'd done.' His voice broke. He turned away 'Enough of this,' said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice Harry had never heard before.

And in this scene in OotP he's also looking out for him,

'I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!' said Sirius forcefully, and he actually made to stand up, but Lupin wrenched him back down again. 'If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!' he said firmly

They're forming a united front - not once, but it's a recurring motive.

Both are ready to handle the whole Peter thing together. They haven't seen each other for over twelve years, they didn't part on good terms and still they're immediately including the other. Even Sirius who's (in this situation) either failing to see how his behavior isn't doing him any good with building a relationshio with Harry or is incapable of stopping himself, is including Remus,

'Ready, Sirius' said Lupin [...] 'Together?' he [Sirius] said quietly. ‘I think so', said Lupin [...]

And then again, they're ready to kill him together, too,

'Of course,' said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. 'Shall we kill him together?' 'Yes, I think so,' said Lupin grimly.

And also non-verbally they're an united front (see above),

Both Black and Lupin strode forwards, seized Pettigrew's shoulders and threw him backwards onto the floor. [...] Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised. [...] Black and Lupin both looked staggered. [...] Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

Then they're portrayed as 'shoulder to shoulder' (figuratively speaking) in other situations as well. Remus is taking Sirius's side in the argument with Molly although he has no business doing so, although he usually prefers to stay in the background. He's usually keeping quiet, usually not speaking up - Molly even thinks she's getting an ally when he joins the conversation,

'Personally,' said Lupin quietly, looking away from Sirius at last, as Mrs Weasley turned quickly to him, hopeful that finally she was about to get an ally. 'I think it better that Harry gets the facts - not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture - from us, rather than a garbled version from ... others.' [...] 'Molly you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry', said Lupin sharply.

Remus is always taking Sirius's Side - he keeps making excuses for James and Sirius's behavior at Hogwarts, he keeps playing it down - even as an adult. He's damn biased, he doesn't move an inch - as long as they're in public at least,

'Sirius thought it would be - er - amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree-trunk with a long stick and he’d be able to get in after me.'

'a schoolboy grudge' [Remus to Snape]

Lupin looked sideways at Sirius, then aid, 'Look, Harry, what you've got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did - everyone thought they were the height of cool - if they sometimes got a bit carried away-' 'If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean',, said Sirius. Lupin smiled.

And I think it's important to point out that Remus does this even though it's not his real stance on the matter,

'[...] it would be - er - amusing, to tell Snape [...]' 'We were in the same year, you know and we - er - didn’t like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James’s talent on the Quidditch pitch…'

The 'er' and 'I think' is a speech pattern of his that indicates he's not being completely honest/doesn't truly believe what he says. ('So he - er - accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast.' / 'Er - perhaps it will be best if we don’t revive him until we’re safely back in the castle.). He doesn't truly think they were as harmless as he's portraying it ('Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were ought of order?').

So - united front on the outside, no matter what. But it's insinuated that behind closed doors Remus is taking a different stance. He's blaming himself for not stepping in with the whole Snape thing, because that's just who he is - blaming himself for everything (sometimes rightfully so, sometimes not) While I do think he didn't say anything outwardly, there must have been something that made it clear to the others that Remus didn't approve of their behavior,

'Of course he was a bit of an idiot,' said Sirius bracingly, 'we were all idiots! Well - Moony not so much', he said fairly, looking at Lupin.  But Remus shook his head. 'Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape?”' he said. 'Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?'  'Yeah, well', said Sirius, 'you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes… that was something….' 

Remus is suddenly living at Grimmauldplace

So at the end of GoF Remus obviously has his own place (or is living with his father again, although he didn't want to because he didn't want to disturb his quiet life according to the author? But then again I don't care what she said on Pottermore).

'Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher —the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while, I will contact you there.'

So that's at the end of June. And then at the beginning of August when Harry arrives in London, just six weeks later, he's living at Grimmauldplace already,

Lupin, who was staying at the house with Sirius but who left it for long periods to do mysterious work for the Order [...]

And then rhey give away joint Christmas presents,

Sirius and Lupin had given Harry a set of excellent books entitled Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts, which had superb, moving colour illustrations of all the counter-jinxes and hexes it described.

They act differently with / because of one another

Sometimes they even defy their core character traits.

Remus's primal drive in everything he does is to be liked/fit in/be seen as good by others (and not as the monster he sees himself as deep down). He's even sometimes manipulative and hypocritical because of it. For example he doesn't tell Dumbledore about Sirius's animagus form because of it (or at least it's part of the reason, or he believes it to be). But when Snape enters the Shrieking Shack he doesn't care about himself getting into trouble for - allegedly - helping a supposed mass murderer break into the castle and everything. Even though he stated before that he didn't tell Dumbledore about Sirius for fear of losing his respect, all he cares about suddenly is Sirius's safety:

'Severus, you're making a mistake,' said Lupin urgently. 'You haven't heard everything - I can explain - Sirius is not here to kill Harry-' [...] 'You fool,' said Lupin softly. 'Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban.'

Also Remus is able to get through to Sirius even in a state of utmost agitation. Sirius is trying to murder Peter and Remus stops him and Sirius listens, even though his goal is finally in reach. Although, up to that point, he didn't exactly act very sensible (slashing the Fat Lady, breaking into Harry's dorm with a knife),

'All right then,' Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. “Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…' 

And he continues to listen to Remus, Remus continues to be able to get through to him even when he's getting emotional. And Remus, who's always trying to appear mild (for fear of being perceived as aggressive which he can not afford because of the werewolf-thing), who even spoke quietly before in that very same conversation, is losing parts of his composure when Sirius is attacked,

“Molly, you’re not the only person at this table who cares about Harry”, said Lupin sharply. “Sirius, sit down.” Molly’s lower lip was trembling. Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white.

Remus is letting loose around him (and the other marauders). He quips,

'Did you like question ten, Moony?' asked Sirius  as they emerged to the Entrance Hall. 'Loved it,' said Lupin briskly. 'Give five signs that identify the werewolf. Excellent question.'  'D’you think you managed to get all the signs?,' said James in tones of mock concern.  'Think I did,' said Lupin seriously, as they joined the crowd thronging around the front doors eager to get out into the sunlit grounds. 'One: he’s sitting on my chair. Two: he’s wearing my clothes. Three: his name’s Remus Lupin.'

'Well, as everyone thinks I’m a mad mass-murderer and the Ministry’s put a ten thousand Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?,' said Sirius restlessly.  'And I’m not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community,' said Lupin. “It’s an occupational hazard of being a werewolf.' 

[As @remusawoooo put it: let's form a comedy duo <3]

And Remus is obviously very comfortable with Sirius. He's always restraining himself, Harry narrates his way of speaking as 'mild' or 'quiet' so many times, but apparently he's different when he's alone with Sirius. That hints at a great level of trust. He doesn't bother to keep up his act around him, because he doesn't worry about being perceived as mild with him and just speaks his truth ( e.g. about Umbridge). He can just be and oh boy, thinking about Remus's character that has to be the greatest fucking deal ever.

'I know she's a nasty piece of work, though - you should hear Remus talk about her.'

And then Remus, who is so good at appearing restrained, is losing his composure when Sirius dies,

'He can’t come back, Harry,' said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. 'He can’t come back, because he’s d-' [...] Lupin's face was pale. [...] Lupin turned away from the archway as he spoke. It sounded as if every word were causing him pain.

In this moment Harry himself is in huge (emotional) pain, but he still notices - must've been rather obvious, then?

Their mutual respect for one another

So, I've read how Sirius wouldn't/couldn't possibly respect Remus / see him as an equal. How they wouldn't fully 'trust' one another. No matter if you 'see' Wolfstar or not, that is just plain wrong.

Sirius respected Remus already as a teenager. He (and James, too), cared for his opinion, otherwise they wouldn't have been affected by whatever he thought about their bullying. But they were ('you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes').

The whole Sirius thinking Remus was the spy thing also shows that he respected him. He saw him as capable - not just as capable of betraying his friends, but also as a capable person in general, a person with an own agenda, not just a copy of him or James. He didn't see Peter like that.

Sirius lets Remus take the lead in the scene in the Shrieking Shack even though the whole taking revenge on Peter/avenging James (James!) thing is most important to him. He does not only let himself be swayed by Remus and lowers his wand instead of killing Peter right after they forced him to transform, he also let's Remus lead the conversation. To me that shows a huge level of trust. He only joins in after Peter accused him of having learned tricks from Voldemort. But before that it's just Remus talking for some paragraphs?

And Sirius listens to Remus not only in that scene, but also in OotP. First he sits down again in his argument with Molly simply because Remus told him so. Then he's waiting for Remus to come back to the room before he even starts telling Harry about the Order business.

Lupin hurried of to the portrait to restore calm. It was only after he had returned, closing the kitchen door behind him and taking hs seat at the table again, that Sirius spoke.

Then he just accepts when Remus says they've said enough without arguing,

'[...] I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough.' Sirius half-shrugged, but did not argue.

Headstrong Sirius, who's even challenging Dumbledore's orders by insisting on telling Harry stuff, who's challenging Dumbledore's orders by accompanying Harry to King's Cross (as Padfoot), who's willing to challenge Dumbledore's orders when he suggests meeting up at Hogsmeade (as Padfoot). But Remus says we've said enough and he is just like 'okay'. Remus says 'sit down' and despite him having been attacked personally he just does. He clearly respects him a great deal.

On a more subtle note (and maybe I'm reading too much into the source material here, but it makes sense to me)... The Prank was not a big deal in canon. At least not initially. But adult Remus tells us in PoA,

'That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip and bitten somebody?' [Hermione] 'A thought that still haunts me,' said Remus heavily. 'And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless - carried away with our own cleverness. I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course… he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so and he had no idea I was breaking the riles he had set down for my own and others’ safety.[...]'

And he's still making excuses for the prank in this scene and Sirius still says how, 'it served him [Snape] right'

But then in OotP when they discuss Snape's Worst Memory with Harry, Sirius obviously has some introspection and to me it easily reads as if they had talked about that behavior - as adults,

'I'm not proud of it,' said Sirius quickly. Lupin looked sideways at Sirius, then said, 'Look, Harry [...] if they sometimes got a bit carried away-' 'If we were sometimes arrogant little berks you mean,' said Sirius. Lupin smiled.

He cuts him off and to me it reads like, 'okay Remus, you can stop making excuses for me'. Maybe adult Sirius came to that conclusion himself with being out of Azkaban for almost two years at this point. He's certainly emotionally intelligent enough to do so. But then again, he's incredibly blind when it comes to Snape in general, even as an adult, so I'm not so sure about that.

Other things

Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking, his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James's nor Harry's could ever have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully, though he didn't seem to have noticed. And two seats along from this girl - Harry's stomach gave another pleasurable squirm - was Remus lupin.

I personally think that's over-interpreting the source material, but I've read someone pointing out how it reads like,

'Hormonal male teen doesn't care for the attention of a teenage girl, why could that be, why could that be... oh, here's why: ...'

(let's not forget about asexual people though)

The Original source material getting ridiculously obvious without the author intending so

Okay, so I personally don't set great store by this, but I think it's funny:

Their names being the biggest cliche ever

Remus 'Moony' Lupin and Sirius ' the Dog Star' Black. Moon and stars, come on. All this from an author who's taking the name game to ridiculous levels. (I mean Remus Lupin = Wolf-son Wolf?, even Lyall = Wolf. And Sirius = the Dog Star Black. And he's a black dog.... really?)

Nearly matching Patroni

They have (supposedly) nearly matching Patroni. Remus's is a wolf while Sirius's is supposedly a dog because it usually aligns with the caster's Animagus form. Anyhow, it's supposed to reflect the caster's personality. Matching Patroni are a huge deal in HP. And a wolf and a dog are pretty damn close, meaning that even if they're not 'matching' technically speaking, they (the caster) are pretty damn close character-wise?

But what about...?

All your 'proof' doesn't necessarily mean they're a thing romantically

No, that's right. I'm not saying wolfstar is canon, I'm just saying it makes sense, even from a canon perspective. Obviously the author didn't intend them to be canon. My point is that it's no stretch to read them as being a thing (whatever that means - being together or just having some sort of unresolved feelings) even in canon.

I'm aware that the things I pointed out don't mean much if you look at them individually. I agree. Like, of course joint presents don't have to mean anything, maybe Sirius is just being 'nice', is including Remus. But it's the sum that give off that vibe—at least to me.

But hey, I'm not trying to convince anyone of Wolfstar; I'm just trying to elaborate. I'd be happy if we could all agree that, no matter any romantic feelings, they were very close friends. Because that, as I hope to have pointed out, is definitely canon.

They don't make sense because of the prank

First - they don't have necessarily to have been a thing back in fifth year already.

Second - the prank was no big deal in canon. I've already ranted about this in another post, so I won't repeat myself here. But canonically Remus didn't make a scene. Like it or not, think it's in character or not, but he didn't.

But Sirius disregards Remus's feelings in 'Snape's worst memory

So this is, what we're talking about, right,

'I’m bored,' said Sirius. 'Wish it was full moon.'  'You might', said Lupin darkly.

Again, they don't have to have necessarily been a thing back in fifth year already. Most of the 'show' we get from the original source material is from when they're adults.

And: Sirius being flippant is just how he is, it's not unique to his relationship with Remus, it doesn't mean he disrespects Remus or anything. He's sarcastic with James in that very same scene, too, even though James had just been insulted and turned down by Lily in front of numerous bystanders (maybe not the nicest thing to do?).

'Bad luck, Prongs' [...] 'Reading between the lines I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate.'

We - as a fandom - are turning the full moons into a much bigger deal than they were - or at least than Remus wanted them to be. ('And they didn’t desert me at all. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.')

But Sirius thought Remus was the spy - they couldn't have been close in 1981

'Being close' is a matter of definition, like, I can be super hurt and disgusted by someone's behaviour and still the person can mean a lot to me. So I think it's possible that they cared for each other even though Sirius suspected Remus to be the spy. But in the sense of them 'emotionally getting' each other I definitely agree. But - even if they weren't close in 1981 - what does that say about their teenage years? Or about them past PoA? Right, nothing.

But Lily's letter didn't even mention Remus and Remus isn't standing with them in the Order photograph

See above.

But you don't just move past something like mistrusting each other so deeply

Maybe you don't. They did. Because they did, no matter what you think about wolfstar. Btw, Sirius is asking for Remus's forgiveness, so there's that for the whole 'he can't forgive him for not having him gotten out of Azkaban'-thing.

'Forgive me Remus', said Black. 'Not at all, Padfoot, old friend,' said Lupin, who was now rolling up his sleeves. 'And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?' 'Of course,' said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face.

The ghost of a grin. Yes, Sirius is obviously very resentful.

And even if they had a chat about it during 'Lie low at Lupin's', even if they worked through some old baggage - by the beginning of OotP they're definitely super casual with one another.

Their whole dynamic is super toxic... The mistrust and everything. That's not a healthy basis for anything

Unfortunately, being toxic doesn't stop people from being in a relationship. But I don't think they are toxic, not necessarily. While I agree that they definitely have issues (I don't see either of them being good at healthy communication; how were they supposed to learn? Besides, both of them have problematic character traits), I do think, in general, they treat each other with respect. And there's no evidence whatsoever for either of them holding grudges about the spy situation. I know people want Sirius to be resentful because they feel Remus deserves it for letting him 'rot' in Azkaban, but there's no evidence for that.

But Sirius didn't seek out Remus's help in PoA when he was after Peter

That would have been risky, wouldn't it? And I don't think there was much on Sirius's mind except for the revenge thing. Sirius is usually quite calm and way less dramatic than fanon makes him out to be. But he loses it completely with the whole Peter affair. I mean slashing the Fat Lady and acting like the mad mass murderer everyone thinks him to be by breaking into Harry's dorm with that knife? (Stupid and also super risky with no wand)

But Sirius isn't with Remus in GoF but rather lives in a cave

Yes, to be close to Harry. Because Harry is his top priority (see below). So what does that prove? He's rather with Harry than with Remus. Agreed. But it's not like he was roaming the UK instead of being at Remus's before. He was somewhere south, far far away to evade seizure. He only comes back because of Harry.

It's understandable, because he feels responsible for Harry (and perhaps guilty because he blames himself for James's death). He doesn't feel responsible for Remus, who is a grown man - and Remus's safety isn't at stake. His own safety is more important than just being with his friend/lover/whatever, but it's not more important than Harry's safety. I think that's a pretty healthy dynamic actually.

Harry doesn't notice so they can't be a thing

Harry is great at noticing some things. Others, not so much. For example Harry thinks Tonks is in love with Sirius, so so much for Harry's perceptiveness. The books being from Harry's perspective is part of the point of Wolfstar making sense.

What about James?

What about James? Is this a contest? No one says Sirius and James weren't best friends (I won't step into the shipping James/Sirius debate here, I respect the ship eve though it isn't my cup of tea). We all agree they were super close. We all agree they were inseparable and that Sirius was devastated about James's death. Following this line of argument Jily makes no sense either (as @myheadsgonenumb pointed out). People are capable of loving their partners (or loving someone unrequitedly or loving someone without realizing) and having a close best friend at the same time.

Plus, who's to say he wouldn't have been devastated if Remus had died, too? People have the ability to care deeply about more than one person (and again, it's not a contest)

BANG! Thin, snake-like cords burst from the end of Snape’s wand and twisted themselves around Lupin’s mouth, wrists and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. With a roar of rage, Sirius started toward Snape, [...]

Yes, Sirius is obviously completely indifferent to what happens to Remus.

BUT it does annoy me that a lot of wolfstar fics are erasing James / are turning Remus into everything James was for Sirius. Like James was just a side character for.Sirius. That's unrealistic. Sirius needs James, Wolfstar or not.

But it's stated Sirius and James only cared for each others opinions, no one else's

Is it really? I've basically already tackled that one above, but, while I agree that they were most important to one another, Sirius himself says to Remus, 'Yeah, well. You made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes… that was something….'

What about Harry - the books state he was the most important person to Sirius (and vice versa), not Remus?

Agreed and again - is it a contest? That line of reasoning would mean that parents aren't capable of loving their partners because they have children.

But Sirius wouldn't be with someone who let Harry suffer at his aunt's / who allegedly endangered Harry's life in PoA by withholding information from Dumbledore...

He wouldn't? The backbone of this argument is that Sirius would not trust/forgive someone who did these things. And wether you ship wolfstar or not, that is just canonically wrong. They were canonically close in OotP (see quotes above) - if you're negating this you're being delusional.

I don't think I have to deep-dive into Sirius's character here because it's obvious that he didn't hold a grudge against Remus.

Remus is too much of a loser for Sirius to want him as a partner

I feel like that's pretty much the same argument, so it get's pretty much the same answer: He wouldn't?

The backbone of this argument is that Sirius was too cool for Remus, had not enough respect for Remus, which is, canonically simply not true. No matter if you like it, no matter if you think it makes sense considering Sirius's character, it's fact that adult Sirius respected him very much. He listened to him, he cared for his opinion, he backed down because of him, he allowed Remus to take the lead. He doesn't treat him as inferior. Not a single time.

But Sirius is so much better than Remus, he has a better moral code, he's a better man, a better [insert statement here]...

Again - it doesn't matter much if you think so, or what I think about it. But Sirius didn't think so. Not a single proof he's resentful towards Remus, not a single proof he thinks Remus is inferior to him, not a single proof he doesn't respect him. The opposite actually.

But Remus is such a pushover, it just doesn't fit personality-wise. Sirius needs someone strong

Is Remus really? Because he isn't as an adult. At least not as long as he isn't concerned personally.

I see Remus as someone with deep-rooted self-worth issues, hence he's struggling to stand up for himself (his worst decisions are all linked to his poor self-esteem). But he has no problem in PoA to stand up to Snape (in the scene in the Shack), he has no problem to stand up to Sirius (multiple times in that scene), he has no problem to take the lead in the conversation with Peter. He has no problem to stand up to Molly when she's attacking Sirius and he tells Sirius to leave it to him to deal with Snape when they learn that Snape stopped giving Harry Occlumency lessons (and wrenches him down again). He's not as gentle/soft/pushover-y as people sometimes think.

Besides, we don't know much about how he really was as a teenager. He himself says that he didn't call them out for the whole Snape thing, but his self-perception isn't the best and he tends to blame himself for everything, so we don't really know how true that really is... As mentioned before, Sirius himself says,

''Yeah, well. You made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes… that was something….'

And also (before that),

'Of course he was a bit of an idiot,' said Sirius bracingly, 'we were all idiots! Well - Moony not so much.'

But Sirius is depressive in OotP - the long hair, the drinking, his moods...

Yes, of course, he's trapped in his childhood home without being able to do anything, he's feeling useless. No wonder he's depressed. Having a relationship doesn't save you from depression (although having no fulfilling platonic/romantic relationships at all can be a major factor for getting depressed).

If one or two pillars have crumbled that is possibly already enough for the roof to tumble down - even though the third is still standing (surprise!).

[On a personal note: I know what I'm talking about (although not everyone's experience is the same obvs) because I'm suffering from depression despite having a wonderful partner, great sisters and great friends.]

But Harry inherited all of Sirius's money/belongings when he died, not Remus.

I don't know about you, but I don't peg Remus as somebody who would've accepted it. Apart from that, Remus was an adult whom Sirius saw as an equal, just as capable as himself, whereas Harry was Sirius's godchild, whom he felt responsible for (and probably still guilty towards).

But Sirius had his wall plastered with pictures of bikini-clad girls

And I had a poster of my favorite (male) singer over my bed at the age of fourteen. Guess what, I'm not straight.

What about Remadora?

I'm not stepping into the 'Is Remus gay'/'Is Remus bisexual' debate right here because I don't think it's necessary. Remadora was after Sirius's death. Period.

And the whole Remadora ship is awful - for both of them. @lizlemonbennet wrote a beautiful post about that

Tonks deserved better - she was so unhappy pining after him, it was literally sucking joy and confidence out of her (her hair changed and her Patronus changed). Lets talk about her Patronus actually. Before Remus it was a rabbit, after she fell in love with him it was a wolf. If Patroni represent your personality, what does it say about you when your Patronus is your lover's literal prey? To me that's a pretty obviously unhealthy dynamic.

But you're erasing women from the story

No, we're not. Wolfstar was a thing before Remadora and Sirius doesn't even have a canonic love interest. Besides - I love Jily and doesn't Hermione get paired with just about anyone?

But the author stated on wizardingworld.com that Remus had never fallen in love before he met Tonks.

I think the whole killing off Sirius and marrying off Remus thing was just the author dealing with fans interpreting her story in a way she didn't like. Either way, I don't care much about what she wrote on Wizardingworld or elsewhere when it contradicts the original source material. Because the author contradicting herself in interviews, on Pottermore, with the films, and even within the books is really nothing new. Just a short list of her making no sense:

James Potter being a seeker, no a chaser, no a seeker, actually nvm

Saying that Snape was in a gang with the Lestranges ('a married couple') at school, when Bellatrix had already left school when Snape arrived at Hogwarts

Saying James was fifteen in 'Snape's Worst Memory' when he had to have been sixteen. It happened after O.W.L.s and students turn sixteen during their fifth year of school. With his birthday being stated as being in March in the very source material itself (DH), sorry, but that's just wrong.

The whole timeline of the Order deaths in 1981

Halloween 1981 being a Wednesday when it actually was a Saturday (Wednesday - Saturday, close, huh?). The story starts from Vernon Dursley's perspective who's on his way to work and Harry's been brought to Privet Drive the same evening. According to the 'real calendar' this means baby Harry spent over a day alone in the ruins of his parents' house? Cool

September first, 1993, being a full moon, meaning Remus has to have transformed on either the train ride to Hogwarts or during the Start of Term feast. Meet your need DADA professor, he's a werewolf, like, right now. Ups, I guess the jig is up.

Remus not transforming in PoA when he hurries to the Shack despite sun already having set just because the moon is blocked by clouds??? It's that easy to evade transformation, yes? Why not lock yourself in the basement, then?

.... (don't get me started on plot holes, I could rant about this to no end)

Other reasons the ship appeals to so many people

Friends to lovers (with a bit of enemies to lovers because of the spy thing?)

I don't have to elaborate on that do I?

Just the right measure of opposites attract / Like will to like - They're good together or at least have the potential to be

I didn't mean to turn this into some Remus Lupin / Sirius Black meta, but...

In some ways they are super similar. It's both very important for them to be viewed as 'good' by others (although their definitions may differ). Remus because he needs that sort of validation because of his poor self-worth. Sirius needs to be seen as 'good' as opposed to his family. They get each other partly because they know how it's to be reduced to a single trait. But then they act very differently about it - Sirius plunges into action while Remus retreats and masks.

They're both dark in some ways; they were both ready to kill Peter.

James didn't believe one of his friends would betray him. Both Sirius and Remus weren't so naive (Although drawing the wrong conclusions):

You think I'm a fool?" demanded Harry.  'No, I think you're like James,' said Lupin, 'who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends.'

Remus is kind/gentle but he's also passive-aggressive at times and sometimes manipulative. Whereas Sirius is harsh, sometimes even cruel, but that means he's also blunt. That has the potential of them dragging one another away from the extremes a bit, meeting in the middle (although Sirius probably would be able to do so on his own, I think most times he simply doesn't care).

While Sirius is much less dramatic and rash than parts of the fandom make him out to be, he has a tendency to act impulsive (acting like a mad mass murderer when he breaks into the castle / wanting to murder Peter without thinking about what that means for his relationship with Harry / jumping to his feet to immediately have a word with Snape when he hears about him dropping the Occlumency lessons). He can do with some sort of counterforce just as Remus needs somebody who forces him to crawl out of his shell.

The drama

They get each other without really getting each other. Sirius thinking Remus is the spy is super tragic because he's reducing him to the werewolf thing, which is the one thing that really hurts Remus.

But he doesn't do that for malicious intent - he does so because he sees Remus's struggle, because it makes sense to him and because he deems Remus capable. But he doesn't really *get* Remus. Because if he did, he would have realized that for Remus it was always most important to be liked/fit in. He'd never betray his friends' trust, because he's so grateful for having them in the first place. He would have rather died, - he doesn't think his life is worth much anyhow (as opposed to Peter). Remus would rather die than risk being shunned.

So he sees Remus but misses the point spectacularly. Which just breaks my heart. And still they're finding back to each other (as friends at least)

Goodbye

Thanks to anyone who's read that far. Again, I don't mean to bash any other ship, this is just about my 'love' for Wolfstar. Don't tell me I can't write a canon compliant Wolfstar story because I can and I will (read: am trying).

I'm also not saying that you have to read it the way I do, it's always interpretation anyhow. But I hope I managed to shed some light on the whole matter.

I didn't check the text because I didn't intend it to get that long tbh. I only had time to write it down because I'm sick at the moment. But I hope there's no holes or anything.

#Can we at least agree that they were close as adults? Bc that would already make me happy (and it's true) #wolfstar #wolfstar defender #remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #marauders era

[bamf-jaskier]

Cavill is not a martyr

I have been seeing so many posts and comments along the lines of “Henry Cavill left the Witcher because they were inaccurate to the books and he had enough of all the changes”

And this thought process, especially if you mention the recent DeMayo writer’s interview, is just a flawed thought process.

Just a quick blurb on DeMayo, as I said here his comments are probably a cry for attention from a fanbase he knows how to rile up and I would take what he says with a grain of truth salt. And Cavill has already filmed season 3 and I can assure you that a random writer he probably has already met making these comments didn’t send Cavill over the edge and have him march into the office an rage quit. Recasting and deciding on a new actor and getting out of contract is a lengthy process that has likely been going on for months. If anything it’s more likely DeMayo knew about Cavill leaving and then made his comments than the other way around.

So Henry Cavill announced he was leaving the Witcher just a few days after announcing he was returning to Superman.

In fact, he was quoted as saying this about his recent cameo as Superman in the new Black Adam movie:

"It was a very powerful moment for me. I wasn't sure how I would feel… whether it would be something very emotionally connective because I put the Man of Steel suit back on," Cavill said. "I chose that one in particular because of the nostalgia attached to the suit. It was important for me to be standing there and enjoying that moment. That is one of the top moments in my career. It feels great to have the opportunity to wear it again."

"The character means so much to me. It's been five years now. I never gave up hope," Cavill said of the half-decade he spent waiting for news about playing Superman again. "It's amazing to be here now talking about it again. There is such a bright future ahead for the character. I'm so excited to tell a story with an enormously joyful Superman."

And that 5 year mark is important. Because it is no coincidence that on September in 2018 it was reported that Cavill will no longer be playing Superman in the DCEU just days after it was announced he would be taking on the role of Geralt in The Witcher.

In fact, it was stated:

the Witcher commitment came after the Warners impasse, suggesting a change in the studio’s strategy.

Meaning he signed onto the Witcher because he stopped being Superman. So what we are seeing right now with Cavill announcing he is returning as Superman and then announcing he is leaving The Witcher is an exact reverse of the situation in 2018.

Cavill loves playing Superman and not only is it a project he is passionate about, but he also nets in a massive paycheck.

Even back in 2018 when Cavill left the role of Superman there was talk that he left because of contract disputes:

Cavill's original contract was for four movies, so a contract extension would naturally need to be arranged before Warner Bros. could move ahead with another standalone Superman movie. According to Revenge of the Fans, Cavill's team wanted to leverage a better deal out of the contract extension - including more movies, more money, and possibly even a producer role. From Warner Bros.' perspective, however, there isn't exactly a burning need to get another Superman movie made.

Then in August of 2022 reports began to come out from comi-con that Henry Cavill was looking to return to the role of Superman but wanted more money for the role.

And considering Cavill was paid a truly insane amount for 2013′s Man of Steel -- an estimated $14 million and a $20 million for 2017′s Justice League I have to wonder what wildly high amount he will be paid to return as Superman now in 2022 when he is a bigger star than ever before.

And his Witcher paycheck does not compare to that Superman money -- with him making 500k an episode in season 1 and $1 million an episode in season 2. Even if he was just making as much money as Justice League, and he is likely making much more to return, that is still well over double the amount of money to play Superman vs playing Geralt.

And at the end of the day, The Witcher is a show with very specific scheduling requirements and set locations. Blood Origin and Season 2 lost actors because of the scheduling conflicts. And that is not at all unusual for the industry.

And for set locations The Witcher is mostly filmed in Mafan Film Studio in Hungary as well as various locations around the country as well as Arborfield Film Studios in the UK and other locations there such as North Yorkshire & The Lake District. And with fewer COVID restrictions the production team is likely to want to go around Europe again for S4 and S5.

Meanwhile it’s hard to know where the new DCEU movies will be filmed but Man of Steel was filmed around Vancouver, British Columbia and Illinois in the US. Justice League was filmed around Scotland and London. Black Adam was filmed in Atlanta Georgia in the US. 

All this to say filming DCEU movies and The Witcher are two very time intensive processes that require film locations that could be on opposite sides of the world. And in addition Cavill is starring in the new Highlander Reboot and in the Enola Holmes movies. Being a TV actor takes a lot of time for not as much money and acclaim. Cavill is seemingly going back to just being a film actor instead of a tv actor which considering his busy schedule makes a lot of sense.

So it’s pretty clear why he would leave The Witcher to return to Superman and his other films roles:

1) Far higher paycheck to play Superman

2) He loves both the characters but Superman is very meaningful for his career and he has stated he has always wanted to return to the role

3) Scheduling conflicts and very different filming locations and the prestige of film vs tv

Trying to spread the narrative of “Cavill is a martyr in the battle against the inaccuracies of the tv show” is based on nothing but your own confirmation bias. And it honestly says a lot about the type of person you are that you jump to find a symbol to represent the victimization of your hatred of the show.

You can dislike the show but the tinhatting and conspiracy theories I have seen flying around are quite frankly embarrassing and this is a needed reality check.

At the end of the day Henry Cavill is a high-level movie star who makes choices based on his career and what he wants to do. Your parasocial relationship with the man is entirely in your own head and I recommend trying to get out. 

#and there's my thoughts on all the people commenting under my other post #the witcher #henry cavill #twn #liam hemsworth #discourse #superman #dceu #long post #myposts

[boyfhee]

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

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

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

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

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

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

playlist : tune in for better experience hehe

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

— Lee Heeseung, Red Wine

I.  Regret and Remorse

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” Heeseung mumbles. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

II. Don’t be a ‘know it all’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess I’ll be that,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why me, why not him? 

III. Remember why you broke up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who even are you?

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

Who are you to him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want to yell at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s too different. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IV. One step at a time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A temporary fix. 

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

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

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

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

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

The next few days pass by rather slowly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, you take your time observing Heeseung, again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I am telling you now,” 

“The night before you’re leaving,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

V. Should you get back with your ex?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

#—approved. #@ : hgbye. #k-labels #kflixnet #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #lee heeseung #heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #heeseung fic #heeseung fanfic #heeseung x reader #heeseung x y/n #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x y/n #@ : htgbwye.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello! I have seen this question debated many times and I wanted to know your take on it cause I find your theories very compelling. Do you think harry should've been in Slytherin? Does he have what it "takes" to be a Slytherin? Is it because of voldemort's soul in him that lead the sorting hat to even suggest he could be in Slytherin? I know this is not one question but I would like to know your opinion on this topic in general!

First of all, thank you for the kind words! 😊

As for the questions, well, you've asked more than one question, but this ask kinda gives me a good reason to talk about how Harry isn't some golden Gryffindor. He actually has some anger issues and he most definitely has what it "takes" for Slytherin.

I'll start with the last question and then go backward, actually.

Did the hat consider Slytherin house just because of the Horcrux?

I don't think so.

I mean, Harry is incredibly clever, magically powerful, and has a cunning streak a mile wide all on his own. I'd actually go as far as to say he's more cunning, ruthless, and resourceful than many of the Slytherins we see in the books. So his own traits definitely are in line with a Slytherin sorting, Horcrux or no Horcrux.

We can try and discern if the Horcrux has an effect on Harry's personality then, and if its influence is seen like that. I'd say that I don't think so either.

Tom and Harry, while they have their similarities, are very different people. They both have a bad temper (although they react to anger differently), but Harry has low self-esteem whereas Tom thinks he is the best (while still hating himself). They're both stubborn, but Tom is much more obsessive than Harry in pursuit of his goals. Harry cares for justice and isn't willing to hurt innocents, Tom doesn't really care about any of that he cares for efficiency. If the Horcrux was influencing Harry's personality, I'd expect to see more similarities between them that go deeper than that.

So, I don't think the hat only offered Slytherin because of the Horcrux. Harry is a Slytherin in his own right.

Does Harry have what it "takes" for Slytherin?

So, I honestly got really excited at the sight of this sentence. See I love Harry, that's no secret. But one of the things I love about him is that he isn't the perfect noble hero. He can be angry, and cruel and ruthless. But he has a sense of justice, he wouldn't wish harm on someone innocent, but someone who did harm to him, or was mean to him or someone he cares for... then Harry can be terrifying when he wants to be.

So, now I'm going to go through some (I have so many more examples of this, and the examples here are mostly books 1-5 since that's what I had on hand) of my collection of quotes showing Harry Potter's vindictiveness and anger.

Harry's response to "have a good summer" at the end of his first year:

“Oh, I will,” said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. “They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer.…

(PS, page 221)

This is Harry's (very justified) vindictiveness we see towards the Dursleys many times in the books. He uses the idea of magic to scare them and is gleeful at the thought of Dudley's fear. Harry is very much chill with vengeance.

“…He likes to keep in touch with me, though . . . keep up with my news . . . check if I’m happy. . . .” And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon’s face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

(PoA, page 435)

Same as above, just Sirius Black as the threat instead of magic.

Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn’t want it to look as though he was too worried.

(GoF, page 25)

Harry can and does lie and conceal information, even from people he trusts (like Sirius) if he thinks it'll be better not to tell them something. Whether that is for his own image or for what they would think.

“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?” It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. “We were — we were —” Ron stammered. “We were going to — to go and see —” “Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him. “We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron’s foot, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry —” Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice. “Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye.

(CoS, page 259)

And he clearly can lie well, even at 12.

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules. He wasn’t following Dudley’s diet, and he wasn’t going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if he could help it. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, “Okay, I can’t see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I’ve got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know — my godfather.” He had done it. He had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon’s face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.

...

He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. He could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernon’s thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn’t go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncle’s mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible. And then — “Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy . . . this stupid . . . this World Cup thing.

(GoF, page 33)

Again, vindictiveness and manipulation of Vernon through fear. Not only that, but Harry can keep his calm and keep his face blank even at 14 for the sake of getting something he wants.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron. . . .” “Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” sneered Malfoy. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?” “You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy — “that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?” Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.” “Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away.

(GoF, page 204)

Harry has a bark (all of the above quotes are Harry having a bark). He can and does shoot back as good as he gets.

Harry isn't all bark though, he's got a bit. Harry's anger is palpable and so very real and I love seeing it:

just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters. “COME BACK IN HERE!” he bellowed. “COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!” But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. “She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.”  He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “I’m going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.”

(PoA, page 30)

Again, Harry has his vindictive strike. (Obviously, Marge had it coming, but that's also what Harry is thinking).

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(PoA, page 339)

“You killed my parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

(PoA, page 341)

Harry, at 13, was fully willing to kill who he believed led to his parents' deaths. And more:

So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black. . . . If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harry’s business. . . .

(PoA, page 342)

He's willing to kill Hermione's cat if it stands in his way.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn’t done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the dementors.

(PoA, page 343)

Harry Potter, at 13, laments that he didn't have the nerve to kill Sirius himself. He thinks he should've killed himself. He sees it as a failure that justice would be served by someone other than him.

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, page 300)

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing “We’ll have a box of tissues ready, Potter ” as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn’t just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

(GoF, page 347)

The above quotes are both situations Harry was willing and wishing to curse people. Even Crucio Snape. He's not as noble and righteous and golden as many fans and characters in the books make him out to be...

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OotP, page 11)

And sometimes, Harry wishes for an excuse to fight. An excuse to take his anger out on someone. (He has a lot of anger in him)

Smirking all over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest bowtruckle. “Maybe,” said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, “the stupid great oaf’s got himself badly injured.” “Maybe you will if you don’t shut up,” said Harry out of the side of his mouth.

(OotP, page 260)

He's threatening and witty.

“Oh no,” said Hermione, quaking so badly that her knees gave way. “Oh, that was horrible. And he [Gwamp] might kill them [the centaurs] all. . . .” “I’m not that fussed, to be honest,” said Harry bitterly.

(OotP, page 759)

And when it comes to people he doesn't consider innocent, or ones he doesn't care for, even if they never harmed him, Harry is still vindictive. The centaurs mistreated Firenze and Hagrid, so Harry doesn't really care if Gwamp kills them all.

That being said, he is more concerned about Sirius in the above scene.

And he can and does cast unforgivables easily by the later books:

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again — her counterspell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

(OotP, page 809)

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix’s wand, examined it closely, and then said, “Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!”

(DH, pages 152-453)

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(DH, page 502)

So, I think Harry definitely has what it takes. He's clever, he can be ruthless, and he's capable of lying and hiding secrets when he feels it's the best option. He can hide his emotions when he really needs to, even if he rarely does. Actually, only in book 6, Harry starts sharing everything with Ron and Hermione on Dumbledore’s advice. Up to that point, he kept quite a bit to himself. And when someone wrongs him, he can and often will swing back.

And last but not least, should he have been in Slytherin?

So, this is an interesting question, because "should" can have two meanings.

1. Should've for the story — as in what is best for the narrative.

2. Should've for the character — in universe, which house the sorting hat should've picked.

So, for the first one, my answer is no. Gryffindor was the right choice for Harry for the narrative of the books as they are. Gryffindor is essentially the opposite of Slytherin and represents a choice more than just the traits and values the house represents. It represents Harry's choice even though he could've been a Slytherin he chose Gryffindor. And it's a constant choice with every heroic act. (personally, I'm not the biggest fan of equating school houses with morality, but it's effective in creating a clear narrative)

And while not all Slytherins are evil and not all Gryffindors are good, a Slytherin Harry Potter would've resulted in a very different story than what we have. So, for the story we ended up getting to happen the way it did, yes, Harry needed to be a Gryffindor.

For the second, maybe. Personally, I believe people (even if they aren't hatstalls) have more than one house they can fit into. Harry is both a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, and neither of them is more wrong or right for him as a person. I think deciding which one of them is best for him is up to a coin flip (and when in his life the question is asked).

He can be ruthless and cunning like a Slytherin. Selfless and courageous like a Gryffindor. He values justice like a Gryffindor. But he also has the selective loyalty of Slytherin to their own.

Point is, there isn't really a "should", because both suit him and he would’ve done well in both. Do I think Slytherin Harry is an incredibly fun concept to consider? Yes. Did I read way too many fics with this premise and would read more? Yes. Do I think he might've fit into Slytherin better than Gryffindor? Well, not necessarily.

Harry is much quieter than most in Gryffindor, but I think the constant scheming and image-keeping in Slytherin would be exhausting to him. He just doesn't care about all the gossip and politicalizing (something that occasionally leaves him out of the loop also in Gryffindor). So, again, both suit him about equally. The difference is that we get a very different story depending on his house.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #hp #hp thoughts #hollowedtheory #harry potter analysis #harry potter meta #hp meta #harry james potter #asks #anon asks #anonymous #slytherin harry potter

[blushweddinggowns]

A Deep Dive into the Munson Marriage: Just Who is Steve Harrington?

By Fredricka Keith

The world has somehow been sleeping on the end of an era. The notorious bachelor Eddie Munson is married. But how did it happen? Who did he fall for? Surprisingly enough, those questions were very hard to answer, despite Munson’s past predilection to be an open book. 

He has been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about his new beau. Tight enough for the majority of his fans to be just as shocked as the general public at the new announcement. Even so, Steve Harrington hasn’t managed to stay completely out of the public eye.

The thirty-three year old has a dismal social media presence, but lucky enough for us, his husband and sister are much more giving. Though Eddie’s Instagram and Twitter mentions of his husband were quickly found to be useless in getting to know the man, despite the number of posts associated with his name. It probably shouldn’t have been surprising, considering how they were nearly all nonsensical compliments, written straight from his stream of consciousness. 

His sister, Robin Buckley, was better, especially considering that she’s been using the same Instagram account since 2012. Through her, we received a little more insight on the man. He had a penance for camping and exercise, often ready and able to drag both his sister and husband with him. According to a Birthday celebration post in 2017 it was mentioned his favorite movie is The Thing (1986) and his favorite cake flavor was southern caramel. 

As for his own career, Robin’s BrotherBartender hashtag was of some use, at the least showing us that the man was capable of creating gorgeous drinks, with a long past career in bartending. But that was it, the only information that was up for grabs.

While the newly Steve Munson has been to a number of events with his husband, he still remains an enigma. The only thing his red carpet showings have proved was that the former Harrington was a master at directing attention away from himself, and his husband was incredibly protective of his privacy. There have been many interviews cut short due to questions he found unacceptable, which was a brand new behavior for the star. His days of being an open book are officially finished. 

But the plot thickens. 

While neither Steve nor Eddie are open for insight, a thorough background check did reveal some interesting information. Surprisingly enough, marrying a rockstar was not Mr. Buckley-Munson’s first experience with the upper echelon. 

Through anonymous inside sources we were able to find that the Harrington last name was familiar for a reason, outside of Steve. His parents, celebrity lawyer Richard Harrington, along with his estranged ex-wife, Adriana Harrington, made headlines in 2012 due to their contentious divorce.

For those not in the know, the two C-list celebrities are most well-known for their continued campaigns against the LGBTQ community, as well as Richard Harrington’s unsavory choice of clients. Harvey Weinstein, Jeffery Epstein, Mitch McConnell, along with his earlier aid work on the OJ Simpson trial. 

His mother, Adriana, while not directly working with some of the most despised men in the country, is famous in her own right. The fifty-one year old has nearly two hundred followers on Instagram, her posts consistently centering around the sanctity of marriage, pro-life advocacy, and bible quotes. 

With this in mind, it is extremely hard to see how their son ended up in not only a gay marriage, but with someone who is flagantly against every single thing they stand for. Though after reaching out to his parents for comment, the picture of how they came together becomes more clear. 

Richard Harrington initially denied all allegations of having any children with his previous wife, despite direct evidence to the contrary. That was until Adriana Harrington settled the score, posting a series of photos of what appeared to be a young Steve Harrington alongside his father. Along with a caption reading: It doesn't surprise me that a liar would lie about his own son. But unfortunately, yes, Steve Harrington was ours. 

Though when asked for clarification on her own relationship with their son, she did not hesitate to reiterate that she had no regrets regarding how their relationship ended. 

“While I wish Steven had taken the tough love he was given to improve himself, I can not say that I’m surprised that he has turned out this way. It’s unfortunate that his deviant behavior has escalated to the level of making a mockery out of the institution of marriage, but that is out of my control. All I can do is rest easy knowing I tried to give him the best life possible. Him throwing that chance away is not of my concern.”

It was an odd choice of phrasing, considering how “throwing” his life away equated to marrying a multi-millionaire. When asked just what tough love she was referring to, she clarified: 

“Steven was given a choice to get help for his affliction or be completely on his own. He chose to be completely on his own. Whatever happened after that choice is a reflection on him. Not me.”

Though when further pressed on just when Steven was given this “choice” she only mentioned that he was “of age” but admitted he was still a teenager at the time of his disownment. 

When asked for comment after Adriana’s claims, the Harrington firm provided the following information:

“Richard Harrington has not spoken to his alleged son, Steven Harrington, legal name Steve Buckley-Munson for nearly fifteen years. While his name is present on Mr. Munson’s birth certificate, the biological relationship between the two has never been confirmed. Considering Adriana Harrington’s past history of infidelity, it is quite likely that there is no actual relation between the two men.

With that acknowledged, Mr. Harrignton would like to reiterate that he has no ties to Steve Buckley-Munson, Edward Munson, Corroded Coffin, or their label Virgin Records. He is a dedicated family man whose loyalties lie with his new wife, his two beautiful young children, and his clients. Those areas are where his focus will always be, first and foremost.”

It is a wonder that such a well-matched duo could ever end in divorce. But their answers only led to more questions. How could Steve Buckley-Munson have a sister if he was disowned as a teenager?

From the last chapter of this (finished) fic!

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #stranger things #damn your love damn your lies #shes officially over over yaaaay