#again these all span the last couple years so nothing's really consistent

[perryhedge]

21 Month Japanese Update

If you’re curious you can read my:

3 month update for Japanese

7 months update for Japanese

12 month update for Japanese

1.5 year journey with French (warning: long).

I should collect them all somewhere rather than using Wordpress, Notion and Tumblr, but….

So 21 months is a bit of a strange milestone, but things are kind of coming to a head and I feel like this is as good of a time as any to do an update. Ultimately with French, I didn’t quite make it to my milestones as planned (overshot my reading goal and hit ~90% of my listening goal), but instead cut things short; I ended up spending exactly 21 months before switching to Japanese. Now with Japanese, I feel pretty much ready to move on once again. This wasn’t intentional. Maybe my attention span is 21 months long.

Anyway, here’s a summary of where I’ve come and where I’m going (taking an indefinite hiatus from actively studying Japanese). This may have a bit of a melancholy mood to it, but I guess that’s just kind of where I’m at.

Stats

I kept up my spreadsheet, with two major changes:

I “quit” tracking twice, but I ended up crawling back to my spreadsheet and estimating the time I spent in between. You can see it pretty clearly between October and December 2022 (I covered it in my 12 month update) and it happened again March to April 2023. I’ve gone back and forth on whether tracking is good for me or not. I don’t think there’s as much of a “use” for it, because I don’t really have any goals with Japanese. With French, I had a reason to push to a goal — it was so I could start Japanese. But there’s nothing after Japanese for me. I’m somewhat interested in Spanish, but I don’t think I have it in me to do this a third time, and anyway I’m less passionate about it than I was for French or Japanese. Ultimately, I think I like to see the stats even if I don’t use them for anything, so I keep it around. In the future, it might become useful. And I realized that without the spreadsheet I kind of lose motivation. Without tracking, Japanese goes back to being something that’s a regular part of my life and not something I go out of my way to include in it. That might sound good to most people, aspirational maybe, but not me. I really struggled to reconnect with watching anime for years before learning Japanese gave me the passion to get into it again, and I don’t regret that at all. I’m just a goals-oriented kind of person, and at this point I don’t think I’ll change that.

I decided to forego hitting the bare minimum and take days off when I feel like it. I even skipped SRS multiple times (I’m the guy with the 1000 day Anki streak — which by the way, I finally ended). I would encourage this for most people, but I’m not 100% sure if this is a good thing for me specifically, because I think I’m very susceptible to negative inertia, where consistency tends to be an all-or-nothing thing for me. But it’s kind of helped me adjust to the idea of putting Japanese on the backburner, so it may have been necessary.

Progress

Vocabulary

I think it's worth decoupling this from reading and listening, because it really is the biggest hurdle with Japanese. According to JPDB, I've hit around 9500 known words, at least the ones I've noted in the SRS. This puts me in the 85%-90% known words range for most anime and 80%-85% for most light novels, just for reference. This is pretty clearly in the intermediate phase. Though I've been learning 10 new cards a day, if I put in a couple hours of immersion in I can add far more than that to the SRS, so my backlog has grown quite a bit during my strong motivation boost in August. I expect my backlog to last me until I hit 10k known, and eventually I'll go down to 5 words a day or just however many I find. I initially thought 10k would be a good place to stop using the SRS, but I haven't yet exhausted all the common vocabulary, possibly because of the way JPDB overcounts lemmas, so I'll keep it going for quite a while longer. It's an extremely minimal, <10min/day investment.

Reading

I would say my reading is in a relatively comfortable place for my goals. I use Learn Natively to log things and I’ve noticed that generally, anything in the <25 range (which includes around 80% of manga) I can read without a dictionary and without lookups at a decent speed (depending on the text density of a volume, 1.5-2 hours on average). I can read stuff that’s a little bit more complicated in the realm of manga — I am working my way through Stone Ocean at the moment, and while I can manage it without lookups (I own a couple of the physical volumes and don’t look up words while reading them), a small amount of lookups would definitely go a long way. I read my first “proper” novel 国境の南、太陽の西 comfortably, and light novels around that level (<31, around 90% of light novels) are probably quite comfortable with lookups (my reading speed probably reaches at least 150 moji per minute, or 9,000 per hour, not amazing or anything but fine enough for me — about 8-10 hours of reading per light novel).

However, if I’m being blunt, I still don’t think my reading level is very high for my standards. Light novels tend to be written for a teenage audience, and manga certainly is, on average, less linguistically complex than those. Of course, for a second language, especially one as difficult as Japanese, being able to read at a teenage level is incredible. I don’t want to downplay the amount of work that goes into that; it took me 500 hours just to get to this point. But I also put around that much time into reading in French, and I know how much further I can get — I mean, I’ve read Balzac and Flaubert (with great difficulty). I’ve glimpsed the pinnacle of reading ability, even if it’s hazy. Not so with Japanese — I’d imagine I’m not even halfway there, and probably less if I keep taking the long route. In Japanese, I would be totally lost reading literature, or philosophy, or most nonfiction, and the problem is bigger than just vocab.

I think the best way for me to improve would be intensive reading with progressively more difficult content, with a strong focus on raw text. In my 12 month update I mentioned that I would like to just dive into literature. However, I have to admit that I’ve pretty much given up on that for the time being; I’ve failed to get into Japanese literature (admittedly, haven’t really tried — but that’s the problem, isn’t it?) and really disliked the Murakami novel I finished; and in general, when I feel like reading something it’s usually in English or French. Of course, there’s a problem here where I don’t even know what I don’t know. There are plenty of European authors that are well-regarded in the anglosphere, because translated works are popular. That’s not as much the case with Japanese literature, though there certainly are exceptions like Ishiguro, Murakami, Banana Yoshimoto, etc (and I’m generally not a fan of them stylistically). . I’ve already read plenty of French authors and I know what I like, and it’s easier for me to get interested in who influenced them or who they were in correspondence with. I don’t have that connection in Japanese.

But I think that’s pretty much okay. I didn’t get into Japanese for literature, I got into it to watch anime. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my success with this method, it’s that the best way to motivate me to learn something is letting me dive into it headfirst right away. If I want to learn Japanese to watch anime, you’re not going to get far telling me the best way to reach that goal is to do something completely unrelated like read novels, even if you are right. I can’t really measure how much manga is improving my vocabulary or general reading ability, but I’m certainly still learning something. I could just continue to do that until day that my vocabulary gains plateau (as measured by the SRS).

It’s funny, I encountered plenty of people with the same issue in French. They would read a bunch of comics and manga and then hit a wall and wonder why they weren’t improving. And I would always say the same thing — if you want to get better in a reasonable amount of time, you have to read a book. But if someone gave me this exact same advice now, I’d just refuse to listen. Or to put it another way, I’d just respond “then I guess I won’t get better in a reasonable amount of time.” It really is just that shrimple.

Listening

I focused a lot on reading for my first year and ended up with a huge gap between my reading and listening hours. In my second year I’ve tried to close that gap, with the goal of making it close to 50/50. I had initially thought that listening should be the focus because it’ll take more effort to improve, since that was my experience in French; then I thought the opposite; now I kind of think 50/50 should be alright. Ironically, listening has done a lot for my vocabulary, whereas I’d imagine that to come from reading. This is for two reasons:

I do a fair amount of lookups from listening (just hearing the word and typing it out) and I add the word directly to my SRS if it’s useful (I don’t bother writing custom sentences, and custom audio/images are currently not supported in JPDB).

I do most of my dedicated sentence mining using the mpv plugin for JPDB, which makes one-click vocab cards from subtitles with custom audio and screenshots.

So in the long run, focusing on listening has been good, and I generally feel my listening is pretty good for where it’s at. I’m nowhere near a wall with it, and since lack of vocabulary is still an issue, I don’t think I will feel like my pure listening ability is being tested for quite a while.

Anyway, at ~500 hours my level in listening is currently at a level I’m quite happy with. I can watch most anime without Japanese subtitles (and without lookups) and understand most of it. I’ve tested the upper limits by watching a bunch of the Ghibli movies, some of which are pretty tough (Grave of the Fireflies, The Wind Rises, Porco Rosso), and while I think I could do better, I imagine most of the issue is still vocabulary. There’s domain-specific stuff I struggle with quite a lot (politics, military, sci-fi, jidaigeki) but I think I’ll focus on them individually once I feel the vocabulary plateauing.

Goals

Honestly, I don’t have much motivation to focus on Japanese anymore — but I think that may be a good thing. What’s been keeping me going these last few months is not wanting to improve, but rather watching anime that I’ve been meaning to get around to for a while. And I did, and I had a good time. The lack of motivation comes from the fact that I’ve hit the “good enough” intermediate stage, where not quite everything comes naturally, but I can still pretty much watch or read whatever I want. I’ve kind of hit what was my goal all along. So from this point forward my journey with Japanese is a matter of managing my interest in various things that are in Japanese (anime, manga, etc). And as much as I’ve kept and would like to keep a sustained interest in doing that stuff, increasingly I’ve felt like it’s a passive activity, and not something I can really count on as my only hobby. I can envision shorter bursts of motivation, sprints, maybe joining a Tadoku. But I want to focus on other hobbies. So for the first time (because I didn’t bother doing this at all with French), I’m entering a maintenance mode. I don’t feel very optimistic about it, as I am kind of an “all-or-nothing” person, so the worst case scenario of me just not thinking about Japanese very much for an extended period of time is quite likely. And if that does happen, that’s okay. I’m going to aim for a measly 1 hour a day, and since I’m including my daily SRS of about 10 minutes in that count, plus the OP/ED of anime episode, that’s 2 episodes. I don’t think I’ll improve with that amount, and I might even get a little worse from time to time, but who cares! I’m very grateful to have been on this journey, to have more or less accomplished a life long dream, and while I sit back and enjoy the view I’m going to try and find new things to do that I haven’t done before.

#language learning #japanese

[freakbullet]

may’s almost over and goshdarnit I’m not letting another one go by with these old WIPs still lying around... so just take em as they are :V

mer-Bats would prolly be some kinda funky prehistoric sea creature that rescues people from shipwrecks and brings em shiny stuff off the ocean floor. he’s kinda lonely and humans are fascinating to him, so he’s usually not far off when one needs help. some seek him out specifically to scavenge lost cargo or even go pearl diving for them.

(also ningen Dingbats, some sassters, and generic mermaid AU Gaster for your viewing mispleasure)

#queue #there are quite a few more but these were the most presentable #god please ignore all the inconsistencies and wildly inaccurate fish parts lmao #i played around a lot with merbats size as you can see #again these all span the last couple years so nothing's really consistent #also references are for chumps according to past me #old stuff #mermay kinda i guess #doodles #dingbats #gaster #sasster #undertale oc #undertale au #monster oc #monster boy #monster #stealthnerddraws #my art #silly stuff

[quicksandblock]

MCYT Demographic Survey Part 2 RESULTS

IT’S TIME!!!

Once again, thank you so much to everyone who participated! 1,654 people total responded to this - about four and a half times as many respondents as the first survey. It’s honestly incredible. I’m so happy the rest of you are as interested as I am in this stuff :D

The increased turnout is also why these results are being posted two days later than I’d intended. I want to give a HUGE thank you to my friend @quincepastey​ and my sibling @orestes-swimming​ for helping me out, and by helping I do mean they did basically all of the technical stuff for me, because my knowledge of spreadsheets was not up to the task. So thank you to Cupid for organizing all the data from questions 3 and 4 into something comprehensible for me, and thank you to Kal for making the charts! They are absolutely the MVPs and everyone reading this should go check them out. Thank you guys so much <3

Reblogs of this post are very appreciated. It would be awesome if the info about the results could reach everyone who submitted a response, so if you reblogged my first post about this survey, please consider reblogging this one as well!

For your convenience, here’s a link to the results of the first survey I did six months ago. Now - on to the results!

Question 1: What is your age range?

Compared to the results of the first survey, we can see that things have changed a bit! Specifically, the fandom has shifted just a little bit older. The solid majority of the fandom is still in the 15-17 year old range, but it’s gone down from almost half to closer to 40%. Almost a third of the fandom are ages 18-20, up from close to a fifth six months ago. 21-25 year olds have increased from about 10% to about 14%. And the youngest segment, 13-14 year olds, have gone from almost 20% of the fandom down to 12% - the sharpest change of all.

Finally, nearest and dearest to my own heart, there are now 26 whole people in the fandom aged 26-30 and 9 people aged 30+. Old Squad is growing, folks. We are... the 2% 😎 Special shoutout to the person who said their 15 year old kid got them into the fandom. I hope you know just how cool you are.

These results are interesting, but it’s also impossible to say how accurate the data is. This survey and the previous one were only posted on my blog, and they only reached a wider audience through the reblogs of my followers. So do these changes reflect actual changes in the demographics of the fandom as a whole, or is it just that my followers (and the people who follow them) have shifted older? To try to avoid this bias in the future, I may reach out to some well-known younger bloggers and ask them to reblog the next survey I do so that I can reach a more even audience.

Question 2: What is your gender?

Apologies for the small text, but there were so many unique write-in answers that I wanted to include them all. You may want to open the image in a separate tab for better quality.

In contrast to the age question, the gender spread of the fandom has remained pretty much the same. About half the fandom is still female, the nonbinary crowd has increased from 20% to 25%, 7% of us are male, almost 7% are genderfluid, and about 5% are agender. Just like last time, most of the write-in responses fell into the vague categories of either genderqueer or questioning.

No surprises on this one! The fandom continues to be overwhelmingly female and queer. Next time I think I’ll include genderqueer and questioning as options to try to catch some of those people into a formal category. All y’all are so valid, especially the person who wrote in their gender as “soup” <3

The results for questions 3 and 4 will be under a cut, because I don’t want to completely destroy people’s dashes.

Before I get into the last two questions, a couple notes. First, I want to explain how I came up with the list of creators, since a lot of people were either excited or disappointed by the fact that a few different people were on there.

On the last survey, this question was a write-in, and I had to transcribe and collate all the answers by hand to come up with the actual number of people who followed each creator. For this survey, I simply took the list that came out of the previous one and pasted it in! I also added a few people who no one wrote in six months ago but who are much more prominent now (Ranboo being the biggest example). So if you were excited to see your favorite small creator listed as an option, they were there because someone wrote them in last time! And if you wrote in your favorite small creator here, they’ll be an option on the next survey. The list is entirely crowdsourced and it will expand with each survey.

That said, the same also applies for more controversial creators. Specifically, I’m talking about CallMeCarson. Several people questioned my decision to keep him on the list - and to be honest, I considered taking him out. But in the end I decided to leave him in as an option for the sake of completeness and consistency with the previous survey. I want to emphasize that this is not me condoning his actions. But for the sake of the data, I felt that it was best to leave him in.

That said, let’s move on to questions 3 and 4!

Question 3: What creator(s) do you primarily follow?

So, it’s harder to compare with the previous survey on this one, and that’s purely because on the previous survey I didn’t have the help I did here. The chart I was able to make for the results back in October was frankly trash. Also, the fact that I split “followed creators” into two questions - primarily and casually followed - definitely throws things off. However, we can still do a certain amount of comparison!

The most obvious change is Ranboo. He straight up was not on the previous survey at all - I think he’d been streaming for less than a month at the time. Now, about 55% of respondents listed him as someone they primarily follow. The Dream SMP itself has also jumped dramatically. Previously, about 5% of people wrote in Dream SMP. That has increased to over half. Quackity has gone from less than 2% to about 30%. Karl has gone from 4% to 30%. Phil has gone from about 8% to a little under 50%. The SBI have jumped from 11% to over 40%.

Techno has gone from about 50% to over 60%. Tommy has gone from 45% to over 55%. Wilbur has jumped from 43% to 55%. Tubbo has remained steady at about 38%.

Dream has apparently dropped some of his following percentage-wise, falling from 50% to about 35%. However, George, Sapnap, and the Dream Team itself have all jumped from 10-12% to almost 30%.

I’m not going to go over the rest of the list, because that would just get way too long. However, I will drop a link to the spreadsheets of data for this survey and the previous one, so anyone who wants to can do some comparison of their own!

Question 4: What creators do you casually follow?

I won’t do as detailed of a comparison on this question, because there’s nothing to compare it to - this question wasn’t on the previous survey. However, it’s interesting to see how many more people follow Fundy, Nihachu, BadBoyHalo, Captain Puffy, Eret, Awesamdude, and Jack Manifold casually rather than as a primary favorite. Out of the top twelve, Karl, Quackity, Phil, and Tubbo are the only ones who don’t have a major discrepancy between the amount of people who follow them casually versus primarily.

I would be curious to hear people’s thoughts on why that’s the case! Personally, I would guess it’s a combination of each of their approaches to lore on the Dream SMP, the frequency and times of day that they stream, and the people they tend to make content with and be associated with by the fandom. I may go into that more later, but this post is already very long, so I’ll hold off for now. Here’s a link to this question’s spreadsheet for anyone who wants to take a closer look!

...And that’s a wrap! Good grief, this got long. Kudos to anyone who actually read the whole thing because I know my attention span would be challenged. I’m already thinking about the next survey - a couple people suggested that I add in questions about orientation and nationality, and while I want to keep the survey pretty tight in its scope, I am considering it. It would be even more data to process but it would be interesting to know!

I would love to hear people’s thoughts on these results! I’m only one person, so I know there’s interesting stuff I must have missed. Please, please feel free to reblog with your thoughts and observations! A lot of work went into this (both from me and from Cupid and Kal! Thank you guys again!), so I’m really hoping to hear what people think about it :D

I plan to reblog this and reply to some of the things people wrote in at the end, so stay tuned for that. And once again: thank you all for your interest in this project of mine <3 See you with another one in six months!

#mcyt #dream smp #technoblade #tommyinnit #ranboo #wilbur soot #philza #sleepy bois inc #dreamwastaken #tubbo #quackity #karl jacobs #the dream team #pardon the tag spam :P #talk #survey #can't wait for the 5 thousand mistakes I will only notice after this breaks 200 notes #IT'S FINALLY DONE #this took so long and I didn't even do all of it #once again thank you SO MUCH to Cupid and Kal I literally could not have done it without both of you <3333 #I'm going to go eat some food

[appalachiananarchist]

1. Vaccine data on preventing disease

I will start this post by summarizing (hopefully as simply as I can) a handful of studies pertaining to how well the vaccines work at preventing disease. I will start by looking at some of the early vaccine studies for the mRNA vaccines (as these are the ones I have researched most heavily). These are older studies done back before vaccine distribution really got big. In fact, I remember doing a journal club meeting on one of these articles sometime late last fall.

The first is one of the Pfizer studies. This one excluded people with compromised immunity which I understand, but angered me greatly when it came out (as a person with compromised immunity). Note that it was designed and funded by Pfizer, though when you look at the protocol and stats it appears well-designed. Like other studies discussed here, infection with COVID-19 used the FDA definition which is a positive test with at least one symptom (which can be basically anything). However, in summary, they found that a 2-dose regimen offered 95% protection against COVID-19 infection per the above definition. (SOURCE)

The second study (on Moderna) was funded by the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority and the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, and the study protocol was designed by Moderna with their assistance. This study also used the FDA definition of COVID-19 as a positive test with a symptom and excluded the immune compromised. However, it found that a vaccination was 94.1% efficacious in preventing COVID-19 infection. (SOURCE)

Now that that part is out of the way I wanted to go over some more real-world data; that is, how are these vaccines actually functioning out there? Are they working on a population level like these studies suggest they ought to? Well...

The Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report from April through July of 2021 shows that vaccination reduces chances of catching COVID 5 fold. This report was important in examining how the vaccines are responding since the delta variant of COVID-19 has started to surge. (SOURCE)

A study out of California found in July of 2021 that COVID-19 infection rates in unvaccinated people are ~5X higher than in vaccinated people. (SOURCE) They do raise the concerns that more studies are needed on how long immunity lasts and whether it will wane. 

Another study examined COVID-19 vaccination effectiveness among health care workers, a group that is heavily exposed to COVID-19. They looked at whether the vaccines would prevent disease (in their study, defined as a positive test with at least one symptom). They specifically looked at the mRNA vaccines (Pfizer, Moderna). The study found "a single dose...to be 82% effective against symptomatic COVID-19 and 2 doses to be 94% effective." (SOURCE)

And before you say "but those were only symptomatic cases!" here is another study also looking at health care workers. This study spanning  December 2020-March 2021 basically tested all of their enrollees for 13 weeks and found that those who received 1 vaccine dose had 80% lower chances of getting COVID, while those with 2 doses had a 90% lower chance of getting COVID. This testing was done regardless of symptom burden. (SOURCE)

There is ongoing data collection on how long immunity lasts with some new reports (warning - following study is not yet peer reviewed) suggests that vaccine efficacy may drop to ~85% after 6 months in preventing disease, but efficacy in preventing severe disease remains very high, at 97%. Still, though, 85% is pretty good. (SOURCE)

So here are just a TEENY TINY number of the many studies coming out regarding the vaccines. I could sit here and list so many more, but then this post would be way too bloated and repetitive because they all say the same thing: the vaccine works. This conclusion is both consistent and reproducible, which when talking about scientific studies, means there is some good research backing it up. And before anyone says anything--YES, you can still catch COVID after getting a vaccine. Nothing works 100% of the time. Just because my car has an air bag and I use seat belts doesn't mean I won't get injured if I crash my car. But based on the available data, it works well in preventing infection in a lot of people, and furthermore, there is one other MAJOR benefit to the vaccine which I will discuss below.

2. Vaccine data on preventing severe disease:

Probably the most important realization that has come out of the past few months is our understanding of how robustly these vaccines effect disease course and severity. I am from eastern KY so one of the big hospital systems in my area is Appalachian Regional Health, which spans 13 facilities. According to their latest stats, they have 213 patients hospitalized with COVID-19. Of those, 16 are vaccinated. That means a little over 92% of the COVID patients there sick enough to need hospitalized are unvaccinated. For further reference, another major hospital in the region, Pikeville Medical, today reported that 70 of their 88 hospitalized COVID patients (~80%) are unvaccinated, and 20 their 24 (83%) ICU COVID-19 patients are unvaccinated. Another regional hospital, Kings Daughters, had recently reported that 86.5% of those hospitalized with COVID are unvaccinated and 100% of COVID patients in their ICU are unvaccinated. So before I even get to national statistics, you can look at these numbers as already see a trend, and I would hope you can see that these numbers are way too high and too consistent to be coincidence. For sources on these numbers you can visit the ARH, PMC, & KDMC websites or facebook pages where they post their stats (HERE, HERE, and HERE)

Now to post a few studies backing this up:

A recent CDC Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report (we talked about this one earlier) shows that vaccination reduces chances of hospitalization due to COVID-19 by ten fold. (SOURCE) The same report shows that vaccination reduces the risk of death due to COVID-19 by ten fold, as well!

Another recent study that incorporated delta variant data into their research has found that "unvaccinated adults aged ≥18 years are 17 times more likely to be hospitalized compared with vaccinated adults." (SOURCE).

Another study coming out of California, also post-delta surge, showed similar results, with hospitalization rates ~29X higher in unvaccinated people. (SOURCE)

Another study looked at how the vaccine protects adults over age 65, which is going to be a more vulnerable group. It found that adults >65 who received 1 dose of a COVID vaccine saw a 64% reduction in hospitalization if they contracted disease, and those with 2 doses saw a 94% reduction in hospitalization with disease. (SOURCE)

To me, studies like these are really important. What we are seeing over and over again right now is that our health care system is being absolutely flooded by unvaccinated COVID patients who need to be hospitalized. This is stressing the health system in ways it was not built to endure. We do not have enough equipment or staff to manage the volume of patients we are seeing. 

Sadly, this does not just affect COVID patients. When a bunch of unvaccinated people get sick and take up ICU beds, that means anyone who gets sick with non-COVID problems, like strokes and heart attacks, also suffer when there aren't beds left for them. For example, your grandmother who developed a bad bacterial pneumonia and is in respiratory distress may die because an unvaccinated COVID-19 patient got there first and took the last vent in the hospital, and there aren’t any ICU beds to transfer her to nearby because the wait lists are all so long because all the ICUs are also filled with unvaccinated COVID patients. I'd argue this is the biggest problem we are facing right now regarding the pandemic even if this problem is invisible to people who don't work in healthcare. Please believe me when I say this: we are drowning, and we are drowning because of unvaccinated COVID patients who are getting severely ill. This is completely unnecessary and avoidable when we are seeing over and over again that vaccination does wonders to prevent you from getting sick enough to need the hospital at all.

Don’t believe me still? I want each of you reading this to visit the webpage for some of your local hospitals. Most of them are posting daily or weekly COVID admission and death statistics. Just take a look at them. Take a look at who is getting admitted and who is dying.

3. Vaccine safety:

Any vaccine, medication, herbal supplement, or what have you that goes into your body carries the risk of an adverse side effect. As a result each of us has to ask ourselves, do the potential benefits outweigh the potential risks? To answer that we need to better understand the risks associated with COVID-19 vaccination, and that means turning back to the data we have available. 

According to NYT Vaccine Tracker, there have been 5.73 billion vaccine doses administered worldwide since its release. This generates an abundance of data for us to work with--more than we have for most medications you take every day--in regards to understanding safety profiles of these immunizations. Given that impressive number, we are by no means seeing widespread death or disability popping up due to the vaccine, but let's get more specific. We have seen a couple common possible adverse effects:

Flu-like symptoms: Most common by far is going to be flu-like symptoms or redness/pain at the injection site. This is actually a good side effect because it means that the vaccine is doing what it is meant to do. I won't talk much more about this one because I doubt flu-like symptoms are the reason people are scared of the vaccine. But for most of you, if you have any side effects at all, this will be as bad as it gets. You are more likely to have these symptoms after dose #2.

Anaphylaxis: Anaphylaxis can occur in anyone when you encounter a substance you have a try allergy to. This is going to be a rare side effect (2 to 5 people per million, or 0.00025%), but is also why you are asked to wait 15-30 minutes to be monitored after receiving your vaccine. That way if you show any signs of distress you can be given immediate treatment. Any time you get a vaccine or start a new medicine a severe allergy is a possible reaction, but if you already KNOW that you are highly allergic to something in the vaccine, you should not receive it.

TTP: This is a disorder that causes abnormal clotting or bleeding. It seems to be associated exclusively with the J&J or AstraZeneca adenoviral-vector vaccines based on current data trends. While rare, this is going to be the most serious adverse effect from the immunization. Data suggest the highest risk is for women under 50, but it is still remarkably rare with only 45 confirmed cases of TTP after over 14 million vaccine doses given. This is an incredibly, incredibly low incidence. Of note, however, patients with the actual COVID-19 virus have a SIGNIFICANTLY increased risk of clotting, especially in severe disease. This increased risk may be due to the production of auto-antibodies in response to COVID-19 infection. Summary: your risk of a blood clot is much higher with the actual virus than the vaccine.

Myocarditis/Pericarditis: These are conditions involving inflammation around the heart tissues or heart muscle. There does appear to be an increased rate of myo/pericarditis after vaccination. This is more common in teenaged males who received an mRNA vaccine (such as Moderna or Pfizer). This is also very rare. According to VAERS, 1404 cases of possible myo/pericarditis were reported after vaccination through September of 2021, though only 817 were able to be confirmed. A CDC report from June 2021 estimated about 60 cases of myo/pericarditis may develop per 1 million vaccine series completed (if you are male aged 12-17; otherwise the rate is lower). However, that same report also estimated the prevention of 71 ICU admissions, 2 death, and 215 hospitalizations among that same group per million vaccines given. Again it is a risk-benefit discussion, but here the numbers definitely point to a benefit overall. Vaccine-induced myocarditis and/or pericarditis are generally one-time events with an excellent prognosis, so rarely represent a threat to life. As the authors of the study linked above stated, "The absolute incidence was extremely low, cases were mild, and all patients recovered. Fear of myocarditis or pericarditis should not influence COVID-19 vaccine decisions."

Guillain-Barré Syndrome: This is a disorder of the nervous system that can cause temporary weakness and paralysis. It is commonly seen after immunizations or infections with various pathogens. It has been associated with adenovirus-vector vaccines (J&J, AstraZeneca) at a very low rate (about 0.0008%) with J&J reporting ~100 cases per 12.2 million doses per VAERS data, and 227 cases out of 51.4 million doses given per EU/EEA to the EMA again through June 2021. People with a history of Guillan-barre are more likely to get it again, so your risk is probably slightly higher if you have had issues with this before, so people with this history may want to opt for an mRNA vaccine which has not been associated with this. 

4. Addressing Common Concerns

If the vaccine works, why do you feel unsafe if I don't get it? A vaccinated person is more protected from you than if they were not vaccinated, but no vaccine (or medical treatment in general) works 100% of the time, so there is always a risk of spreading disease no matter what. This is true for every single vaccine in history so COVID shots aren't special in this way. The data supports indisputibly that the vaccine reduces the RISK of getting COVID, but does not protect against it perfectly, so people should still use common sense. Also, vaccine works much, much better when everyone gets them, which is why vaccinated people enourage others to get the shot too. Think about it. Most of the studies I linked said the vaccines were in the range of 90-95% effective at preventing disease. If everyone in the room is vaccinated, the chances any of them (with their 90-95% protection) are infected and spreading COVID is going to be lower than a room of unvaccinated people, who have no protection against disease. Think now of yourself as a vaccinated bystander inside each of those rooms. In room 1, there is a low rate of COVID-19 being spread around, so your vaccine-induced immunity is now bolstered by the fact that there is also low spread in the community, making your overall chances of getting sick extremely low. In room 2 there is likely moderate to high spread of COVID-19 virus, meaning that even if you are vaccinated, because your vaccine can never be 100% effective, you sadly still have a chance of getting sick (even if it is lower than it would be if you were not vaccinated). Does that make sense?

If vaccines work, why do I have to wear a mask? Same reason as above. We can get into masks later, but point is, both offer protection against the spread of COVID-19, but neither is 100% surefire perfect immunity. Human bodies just don't work that way, sadly. By using both, you increase your chances of preventing catching or spreading disease more than if you did either one in isolation. Bringing back the car example, a seat belt is good, an air bag is also good, but I'd definitely prefer to get a car that has both a seat belt AND an air bag.

Why is the vaccine not approved for kids? Lacking data on safety and efficacy, as young children were excluded from many of the trials that looked at these vaccines. 

We don't have long term safety data. It is unprecedented for an immunization to cause new side effects years later. These shots work by activating your immune system. Any problems they are going to cause will occur surrounding that period of immune activation (meaning, at most a few weeks after you get it). That is why this vaccines typically have any side effects show up within days to weeks of administration. The idea that novel side effects will pop up YEARS later is unlikely. Now, a vaccination may have cause side effect that has long-lasting health implications, such as developing TTP and having a stroke from it, but my point is that will start within weeks of vaccination, not randomly 5 years later after the vaccine has long since left your system. As a result, any side effects from the vaccine are things we will already be seeing right now. The virus, though...   I can tell you that scar tissue in lungs doesn't magically vanish, and brain damage from hypoxia doesn't vanish. I can tell you that those who develop a generalized COVID inflammatory response are dealing with symptoms months post-infection. I can tell you that the virus itself is causing irreversible health problems and disability, and we KNOW that right now without waiting another 5 years. And we know that being unvaccinated increases your risk of getting sick enough to have these permanent disabilities. We also don't have time to wait 5-10 years on more data to deal with this problem. Action has to be taken now, or a lot of people won't be alive in 5 years to talk about the long term effects. I wish none of this had ever happened, but it did, and we have to do something or it won't get any better. This is a global pandemic; we have to cooperate with each other to eradicate it.

Vaccines should not be mandated by the state or companies. I don't really disagree. I do not think authority figures should be able to tell any person that they have to put any substance into their body against their will or else face starvation or homelessness, which is a real threat if people get fired over their vaccine status. HOWEVER neither your nor my beliefs on this topic change the fact that the vaccine works and is VITAL to keeping our health system from collapsing, and you really should be choosing to get it on your own based on the available data regardless of what your boss is saying. Please don't refuse to get the vaccine just to "send a message" or take a stand against your boss or whoever, because I promise you they will fire you without a second thought, and the only person you are sending a message to is that little grandma we talked about earlier who needs intubated but can't find a free vent or ICU bed, so dies in the emergency room while unvaccinated people take up all the space in the hospital.

5. In Summary

There are risks associated with COVID-19 vaccination, as with any vaccine or medicine, but they are remarkably, remarkably low. The potential benefits of vaccination are significant, with a decreased risk of infection, hospitalization, and severe disease among those who are vaccinated. This benefit extends to the community as well, in that it means you are less likely to catch (and therefore spread) COVID-19, increase the rate of herd immunity in your area which protects everyone (especially the medically vulnerable), and reduces preventable, unnecessary COVID-19 admissions that are weighing down the health system and clogging up hospital beds. If you look at this purely from a risk-benefit standpoint there is no mathematical reason not to favor getting the vaccine, and I strongly urge everyone who can safely do so to schedule it.

I suppose my take-away statement is this: I am a physician. If you are willing to trust my advice when you show up to the hospital in respiratory distress, trust my advice now in trying to prevent you from getting to that point. 

Please.

#covid-19 #pandemic #covid vaccine #covid-19 vaccination #medblr #medical #population health #preventative medicine

[celestialmark]

Ethereal - Jeong Jaehyun

Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.

Characters: Jeong Jaehyun x reader

Category: fluff, au, life lessons

Word count: 16.7k

Warnings: drinking (but nothing too major), emotions, a lot of it.

Writer’s notes: it’s been a hooooooot minute and this is a lot of words. how have you all been? ;; skdjsjskd this was written in 2 weeks that consisted of a lot of urges to pull my hair out and constantly squeezing my brains for words and words and words. but nonetheless, I had so so much fun writing this, I enjoyed it thoroughly and I wish I had a Jaehyun in my life skdjlksjd hope you enjoy this you guys! <3 stay safe, keep healthy! lots and lots and lots of love to all of you as always x

Winter one.

There’s an indescribable feeling settling on Jaehyun’s chest when he leisurely looks down at the view below him from where he stands by the ledge of the Fisherman’s Bastion. He’s smiling contently to himself, dimples appearing but remaining hidden by the stretch of his turtleneck that shields him from the cold winter air. The sight before him, he thinks, was definitely one to die for, the Danube river stretching from one side to another, the mighty bridge allowing vehicles to pass in and out, the Parliament building sitting tall and proud on the other side of the river, all with a touch of snow from last night’s downpour which makes the scenery all the more breathtaking. Though the tips of his fingers are freezing, the negative temperatures making them stiff and red, Jaehyun feels warm on the inside, a familiar feeling that courses through his body whenever he got to see places like this.

Jaehyun tightens his grip around the camera he’s holding, with the straps hung loosely around his neck and raises it to capture the view. He trains his eyes on the LED screen, half clicking the button until the viewer appears, automatically adjusting the lens so that it focuses on the right places and presses down on the button completely, the screen turning pitch black momentarily until his photo reappears on the screen. When he’s satisfied after studying it for a few seconds, he repeats the process, changing angles every single time to make sure he remembers all he’s seen, forever.

He turns slightly to his right, curious to see how far the river stretches and how much his camera could capture when he spots a person who appears to be struggling to take a photo of herself from the way she’s awkwardly holding her camera up in the air, lowering it one second and then raising it again, obviously unsure if she’s captured in the frame or not. Jaehyun unknowingly smiles behind his camera, silently watching the girl continue her attempts, feeling apologetic for finding amusement in her struggles. He snaps a quick photo of her before finally letting go of his camera and letting it rest above his abdomen.

“Would you like me to take a picture of you?” He asks as he walks closer to the stranger.

You snap your head to your right and you see a guy, a fellow tourist you assume, approaching you with a smile grazing his lips, gesturing to your camera that’s been making your arm ache for the past few minutes. You mentally deadpan at yourself because this person has definitely seen you sturggle for who knows how long and maybe even seen you smile uncomfortably at the camera. And though he’s smiling at you, the upward twitch of his lips never dissipating even when he’s right in front of you, you subtly narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. Traveling alone meant that you had to look out for yourself and though this guy might not look like a snatcher that’s out for your camera, you just couldn’t be too sure, after all, this was usually how people get robbed right before their own eyes from being too careless and trusting.

He breaks the train of your inner debate when he chuckles, retracting his outstretched hand to his side when he sees you eye him from head to toe. “I promise I'm not going to steal your camera.” He lifts his own camera, strapped around his neck, “I’ve got my own.”

You tear your eyes off of him immediately and slap yourself mentally. How many times could you possibly embarrass yourself in front of this stranger in a span of three minutes? Your mind goes into haywire then, feeling the need to explain yourself, “No– that’s not what I meant,” you blubber, the desire to change his first impression of you burning within you, not really knowing why considering you might never even see him again. “I was just, actually–”

“My offer still stands,” he interrupts, smile returning, eyes doing the same and dimples you hadn’t noticed from earlier, appearing.

You hang your head low, hoping the cold weather is enough to mask the tint of red that’s spreading across your cheeks as you take a step forward to finally hand him your camera. “Sorry,” you mumble more to yourself.

He’s studying the features of your camera as soon as he receives it, “Don’t mention it,” he reassures. It takes him no less than ten seconds to finally get grips with your camera settings and as he does so, you’re shifting in your spot, trying to think of poses for the picture. You start to feel conscious about yourself then, the stranger’s eyes fixated on the screen and inevitably on you. The thought makes you move too much in one place in futile attempts of giving him a good photo to take.

He cocks his head to the side, looking directly at you now, “Comfortably. Pose comfortably, whatever you want. It’s your photo.”

His velvety voice takes you off edge and sure enough, you relax after his instructions. You don’t do anything extraordinary as you manage to stay still in one spot lifting your lips upwards into a small smile, your eyes directing themselves to the lens. You hear the click of the shutter then and just when you think it’s finally over, it’s the stranger’s turn to shift in his spot slightly, the camera still lined within his vision.

“Another one,” he insists, adjusting the camera so that you’re in the centre of the viewer. “The view is really nice. Might as well take a few more.”

You don’t protest because it seems like this man knows what he’s doing and he’s already snapping away even when you’re not ready and you try not to get flustered in the process of finding the right poses. But it didn’t even matter anymore because he’s clicking away photo after photo without even so much of an instruction from him nor waiting for you to move in your spot. You watch him blankly as he continues to shuffle in his place, changing all the angles in all ways he feels needs be. When he’s done, you’re still dazed and it’s only when he hands your camera back to you that you finally blink.

“The photos came out great,” he smiles warmly.

They did? You’re not too convinced seeing you didn’t even move a muscle.

“Thanks.” You glance to your left and your right and just as suspected, he was by himself too. “Do you want a picture here too?”

He contemplates for a second, already knowing he doesn’t need anymore pictures here, convinced he has enough saved from earlier. But you’re smiling at him gently and a couple pictures more won’t hurt. “Sure.”

So you switch places, the stranger now standing by the ledge, you taking his previous spot a mere metre away from him. You don’t need to give him any cues because looking at him through the screen of his camera, he didn’t need to pose, him just standing there was already a photo worthy moment. You snap multiple pictures of him, each one seeming to come out better than the last and you wonder how that was even possible because this man really wasn’t doing much. You reason maybe he just really knows his angles well. Nonetheless, this man was for sure captivating, with his tall stature clad in a light brown trench coat with a fluffy turtleneck in darker shade of brown laid underneath, black slacks and a pair of impossibly white converse. Maybe he’s a model? Well, he could definitely pass as one, his big eyes that radiate warmth, smooth features in every aspect of his face topped with his dimples.

He looked breathtaking.

And you have to force yourself to take your eyes off of him when you return his camera, forgetting completely about the fact that you hadn’t just snapped what seemed like a million photos of him.

“Thanks,” he breathes, turning the camera off without inspecting your photos.

You nod, “you’re not gonna check them? I’m not sure I did a good job– I can take more if you want.”

He smiles with a shake of his head, “No, that’s okay. You didn’t check yours either. I’m sure the photos came out great.”

You chuckle, “You shouldn’t be, not with my photography skills anyway.”

He chuckles this time and your eyes land back on his dimples, “All that matters is that I have a souvenir of this place.”

“Me too.”

“You’re here by yourself?”

“Mhm. You?”

“Yeah,” he exhales a breath, the winter temperatures making it possible for his breath to become visible, the smoke-like condensation seeping through his lips. He lets his eyes wander to the view before him once again, “It’s the exact same as I last saw it. Nothing’s changed.”

Intrigued, you carry on with the conversation, “You’ve been here before?”

You see him nod from the corner of your eyes, following where his eyes are focused. “Yeah, I was here last year. And the year before that. And the year before.”

You nod slowly, unknowingly becoming more and more invested in the subject with the stranger. “Are your family here?”

He shakes his head, “No,” he then turns to you with a small, but breathtaking smile. “Just, I just really like it here. I find myself coming back every time.”

You blink just as you clear your throat, your pulse unconsciously speeding up with the eye contact that had just occurred.  Silence fills the air and you’re almost sure the mood had just transcended into an awkward one after being flustered, so,  in attempts of lifting the mood, you suggest something you don’t give much thought to.

“Well then maybe you could tour me around.”

And you deadpan at yourself as soon as the last word is uttered, your eyes widening at how bold you’ve gotten, not to mention, in front of someone you had just met for the first time out of nowhere.

You hear him chuckle beside you and that’s when you feel his whole body turn towards you. You wearily follow suit, greeted by one of his hand extended to you, “Gladly.” His smile broadens, something to let you know he isn’t kidding.

“I’m Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun. A nice name for a man with impeccable visuals.

His hand is warm in contrast to your cold one when you accept his handshake.

“Y/n. I’m y/n.”

Winter two.

When you look over the same view you saw for the first time the past year, you realise that nothing much has changed. The river still stretches on, the bridge still standing tall and buildings on the other end of the river rising upwards in same way you remember them to. It was still as beautiful as ever despite the winter weather nipping at your skin. Jaehyun’s words ring in your head then, that not matter how many times he’s visited this exact same place, everything is still as he recalls. You smile to yourself at the memory of him, recalling the wasted opportunity of him touring you around (despite it being a casual joke on your end but one he’d taken seriously) due to conflicting schedules and flights. It’s a pity you think, because he looked genuinely keen on showing you to some of his favourite places. Though he did leave you a list of places to see, you never got to see any of them with him, the terrible reminder of your impending flight the next day disrupting the chances of what could have been.

You inhale the winter air, the coolness transcending through your insides, closing your eyes in the process to relish in the beauty and tranquility of it all despite the many other tourists roaming the area, mentally thanking yourself for having come here again. Budapest was and is still beautiful, a certain beauty to it you were quite unable to pinpoint as of now.

“Beautiful, huh?”

You swear you remember that voice anywhere, even when you’ve only heard it once. Your eyes snap open and true enough, you find the same companion you shared this view with a year ago, smiling at the view before him, his dimple peeking through his cheek. Your head almost spins from having craned it too fast to see who the owner of the voice was and you notice the subtle drop of your heart when your assumptions prove to be right. He finally turns to you, that same blinding smile you remember adorning his gentle features, his brown soft locks falling just above his eyes.

“Y/n,” he breathes, the name rolling off his tongue in a pleasant way, as if he’d been dying to say it for far too long.

Your throat runs dry and you’re trying to convince it’s because of how taken aback you are. “J-Jaehyun.”

You see his shoulders slump, the smile briefly leaving his lips before emerging again, this time a tad bigger, exhaling a rather big breath. “You remember.”

You nod, trying to stop the rapid blinking of your eyes, “And, so, so do you.”

He nods too, tugging his winter coat closer to his body. “What a coincidence,” he says, tearing his eyes off you to marvel at the river again. “A very pleasant coincidence.”

You fall silent, not really knowing what to say, your mind struggling to come up with a decent response to hopefully mask your flustered nature. But when nothing comes to mind, you follow his gaze forward, thinking that maybe if you looked somewhere else other than his face, your sanity will come back.

“I still haven’t forgotten about that tour,” Jaehyun pipes up, voice clear yet soft. “The offer still stands,” he adds and then turns to you again, making you look at him. “That’s if, you’re not going to bail on me tomorrow.”

His words make you chuckle, his down to earth nature naturally easing you. “For the record, I wasn’t purposely bailing on you.”

“Oh yeah?” He challenges. You nod. “Coincidentally then?”

You smile a teasing one with a shrug of your shoulders. “Maybe.”

Your answer makes Jaehyun laugh and it gets caught in the wind that blows past, but not before it reaches your ears, pride settling in your chest for having made him do so. “Well then can I try again tomorrow? The pictures you took the last time came out really great, I want to make it up to you.”

“Jaehyun there were mere pictures. It’s okay, you don’t have to,” you defend, even though your mind says the exact opposite, because in fact, you did want to see those places he had mentioned, and you most definitely wanted to visit them with him.

It’s Jaehyun’s turn to shrug his shoulders, a small smile grazing his lips as his eyes grow a little smaller with the gesture. “I want to. And besides, most people would just accept an offer for a free tour, you know?”

You narrow your eyes playfully at him, “Not from a stranger, no.”

You catch him bite his lower lip when you don’t make things easier for him, finding too much fun in your little exchange even though you’re unsure where this side of you is coming from.

“But I’m not a stranger though,” Jaehyun points out. “You know me.”

You wag your index finger at him, “Correction. I know your name.”

“And that’s not enough?”

“You could be a a dodgy guy for all I know.”

“You think I’m out to harm you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

You fall dead silent because Jaehyun’s unknowingly become too close to you, your ability to pick up on his advances clouded by the determination of brewing a witty comeback just to win a game you weren’t aware you were playing. And it doesn’t help that Jaehyun is suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his grip firm and strong, pulling you away from where you're standing and landing so close to his chest. From his shoulder, you see a big crowd of people walk past, all too focused and lost in the earpieces stuck in their ears and wandering eyes, making it almost impossible for them to spot you in their tracks, too engrossed in the building that stood before them.

“Still think I’m dodgy?” Jaehyun asks amusingly, a crooked smile hanging on the corner of his lips, looking down at you but never letting go of you.

You blink, avoiding his eyes, training them to the lints that had formed on his coat.

“S-so about that tour? Is it still up for grabs?”

------

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a latte. Hope that’s okay?” is the first thing Jaehyun says to you when you meet him at exactly ten in the morning at your agreed meeting place. He sounds unsure and he’s watching you with expectant eyes.

You nod, smiling. “This is perfect, thank you.” After taking a careful first sip, so as to not burn your tongue so early in the day, you look around you, the high end shops surrounding the street on either side. “So Mr tour guide, what do you have planned for today?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked,” he plays along with a goofy smile, pretending to scroll through his phone as if the agenda had been written on it. “And to answer your question, you’re going to have to wait and see, it’s a surprise.”

Your mouth forms an “o”, your expectations rising. “Exciting!” And you really mean it. Because feeling nervous earlier was one thing, looking forward to the day ahead was another thing, and if you were being honest, you don’t remember how you felt earlier in the morning at all, now that you were casually strolling the streets of Budapest with Jaehyun.

As you manoeuvre through the Parliament Building and as you climb the dome of St. Stephen’s Basilica, you learn a few things about Jaehyun that rise during your conversations on the trek to your destinations. You learn that Jaehyun is the head of the marketing team in a company he refuses to name (which you presume must be a renowned one and that he was just being humble), that he lives alone in an apartment in the suburbs to escape the busy city life that he has to see every single morning for work, that he’s an only child hence, has a very close relationship with his parents who still worry about him venturing onto these solo trips every year despite being a working adult.

You huff, placing both your hands on your hips when you arrive at a landing after climbing so many steps you had lost count of. “Oh, I had completely different assumptions about you,” you say in between trying to catch your breath, allowing people to walk past you as they continue their climb.

Jaehyun turns to you, a brow slightly raised, the teasing smile threatening to form on his lips poking on something you had just said. Your eyes widen, mortified at the fact that you had just exposed yourself thinking about him in your spare time. “Wait, that’s not what I meant– wait.”

Jaehyun dismisses it, shaking his head lightly. “Well what did you assume in the first place?”

That was one more thing you had learned about Jaehyun in the midst of talking to him passively, was that he had a tremendous talent for making you eat your own words. Either that or you just really didn’t think your words through before speaking them out loud. At this point, you really didn’t care anymore, besides after today, Jaehyun would just be another memory, another stranger you’ve met in the passing.

“Definitely not the head of the marketing department.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

“Then what?”

“A model, maybe.”

Jaehyun chuckles as you both halt at the bottom of another set of winding stairs above. You nod truthfully, remembering your first impression of him all too well from last year; tall and undeniably blessed with outstanding features. “Yeah. A model for a clothing brand, maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jaehyun says lowly, turning away from you to hide the growing smile on his face and the reddening of the tip of his ears (which by the way was definitely not caused by the cold).

Jaehyun was good looking and he deserved to know that even if it was through an indirect statement. “It is,” you nod as you continue your ascent after sucking in a huge breath. Jaehyun follows closely behind, cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “So, only child, huh?” you call out behind you, raising your voice slightly to ensure he hears you. You hear him hum, “Does it not get lonely sometimes, no?”

Jaehyun ponders for a second, his childhood flashing before his eyes. “Sometimes, yeah. But not too much, I have a bunch of crazy friends. They’re almost like brothers to me.”

You nod absentmindedly, an imaginary picture of what Jaehyun’s friends could possibly be like popping up in your head. You think they must be a nice bunch too, considering how pleasant your company has been. You draw yet another huge breath in, your hand gripping onto the cold metal handrail, the many stairs leading up to your destination that wasn’t even in sight yet, making your lungs yell for air. “The view better be worth it,” you grumble to yourself but Jaehyun hears.

“Trust me, it is,” Jaehyun pipes up from behind you, surprising you a little but you take his word for it anyway.

And sure enough, Jaehyun was right. The view from the top of the dome sure was breathtaking, the roofs of the buildings below coated with snow that had fallen earlier in the morning and the vague outline of the mountain in the distance, and although it was all you could see, besides the minuscule people and the various roads and alleys, somehow, it felt so ataractic to be here with the sun peeking through the clouds, even when the cold wind makes you shiver under the many layers of clothing you had. The view was surreal in your eyes, but how it made you feel was definitely something else indescribable.

“Well?” Jaehyun asks, stepping beside you by the ledge.

“You were right,” you admit. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

Jaehyun has been here before, but right now, sharing the exact same view he’s seen countless of times, he thinks the view had just become even more magnificent than all the times he’s stood here the previous years.

------

When the sun sets, you learn that the capital city of Hungary, is divided into two, that the Chain Bridge connects the hilly areas of Buda to the flatter areas of Pest. You learn this as Jaehyun navigates you through Christmas markets where you find hand-made products that range from ornaments to clothes, to warm and fresh local food that you indulge in with Jaehyun. Other people weave in and out these booths just like you and the fairy lights tangled amongst the bare branches of a huge tree that’s firmly rooted in the middle of the square, gives the place a homey and cozy feeling. When the evening snow begins to fall, the two of you are taking a sip of your hot mulled wine in a cup.

“Are you tired or do you still have some energy left?” Jaehyun asks lowly.

“Both?” You reply honestly.

Jaehyun chuckles and discards his cup in a nearby bin when he finishes his wine. “We have one last place to see,” he announces. “But don’t worry, it’s a pretty cool and chill place.”

You nod, liking the idea of ending the day somewhere you could relax. “I’m down.”

You find yourselves in front of a place called “Szimpla Kert” and when you take a peek inside, it’s dark, neon and fairy lights scattered everywhere. When Jaehyun leads you inside, you realise it’s almost like a bunch of outdoor bars grouped together in one place, with random tables and seats decorating the place, along with music playing throughout the entire place. Jaehyun finds a seat for you both, right beside a heater to keep yourselves warm, the place still cold despite the roof that covers it.

“First round is on me,” Jaehyun winks before he’s dashing off to the nearest bar he comes across.

You look around the place, taking in its smallest details; broken and abandoned TV’s adding touch to the unconventionality of the interior, with random pictures and paint splayed on the walls. You spot an old (and possibly broken) arcade machine on the other corner and when your eyes fall onto your own table, you realise it’s not the same as the others either. You think it’s unique; how nothing in this place doesn’t make any sense, but you like it anyway, almost seeming like a breath of fresh air in the middle of all the chaos that is your life, despite it not being the image of tranquility in your head.

You watch as Jaehyun re-emerges from somewhere, with what looks like two cocktails in his hands. He sets them down on the wooden table before taking a seat next to you on the wooden log. “I honestly can’t remember the names of these two but I asked the bartender to give me their best ones.”

You reach for the yellow one, leaving Jaehyun with a clear looking one and take a sip. The bartender wasn't wrong, the cocktail tasted divine, picking up on the fruity taste of the mango added with alcohol to which you assume is vodka and a bunch of other ingredients you couldn’t quite make out. Nonetheless, it was good and so you take another sip from the straw. When Jaehyun sees you satisfied, he begins to drink his own, the cool of the cocktail sending shivers down his spine.

“So what made you come back here?” Jaehyun asks, starting the conversation in hopes of getting to know you a little better.

You shrug your shoulders, recalling the time the opportunity of being able to travel presenting itself amidst your busy schedule back home. “Not sure,” you confess, glancing at him. “It just felt like the right place to be.”

Content with your answer, with it having spoken so much more than the actual length of the words themselves, Jaehyun smiles, somehow knowing how it feels to be in the same position, though never really knowing your whole story. “I get that.”

“Yeah?” you re-confirm, leaning over the table to look at him a little longer, resting the side of your head against the palm of your hand, your cocktail now half empty, the alcohol beginning to sink in your system. “Is that why you come back every year?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun nods, staring straight ahead before directing his gaze at you. “Up until this year.”

You almost miss the last part but you don’t and even when you do hear it, it doesn't make sense to you. Before you could ask him to elaborate, he’s sipping away at his cocktail, prompting you to do the same and no one speaks after that. When your glasses are completely empty, you rise from your seat and Jaehyun follows your every move.

“Second round is on me,” you wink at your company, in the same manner he did earlier. Unknown to you, the playful gesture bothers him way more than it had its effects on you from when he did it.

It isn't long before you return, with four shot glasses gathered up in your palms, careful enough not to trip on anything to save the drinks. Jaehyun raises a brow when you set them down in front of him, silently examining what appears to be clear fluid in the glasses; Palinka shots.

“Are we drinking to die tonight?” Jaehyun asks unsurely, eyeing the drinks.

You roll your eyes as you reclaim your seat beside him, “I’m pretty sure you know what these are given you’re like an unofficial local here.”

Jaehyun’s laugh resonates from his chest and vibrates through his whole body. “Of course I know what they are. I had too much of those one time and I almost passed out in public.”

You grin, picking up a glass and handing it to him before taking one for yourself. “Well then, cheers?” you raise yours to his which he meets with his own, eliciting a small “clink” in the process. You down the drink it one go, taking a big gulp. You blink hard for three seconds, the strength of the alcohol coming at you full force, making your throat burn and your face grimace.

“Wow,” you manage to croak when you recover shortly. “That’s something else.”

“Right?”

“I love it.”

You ignore the feeling of your head beginning to spin when you down your second shot with Jaehyun, your cheeks now rosy while the tips of Jaehyun’s ears now coloured a shade of pink. He’s grinning incredulously at you, “I’ve never drank this with anyone before.”

You turn to him, lazily blinking in the process. “Really?”

Jaehyun nods, “Yeah. I always came here alone.”

You raise a brow playfully, bringing your face closer to his. “What an insult to all the girls you’ve brought here before.”

Jaehyun laughs lowly, eyes trained on you (your lips). “What makes you think I’m lying?”

You bring your elbow to rest on the wooden table, resting your jaw against your hand which you have balled into a fist. “With that face of yours, it’s impossible you haven’t brought anyone here.”

Jaehyun feels the need to get closer to you, so he does, scooting in his seat until his shoulder almost touches yours. “And what’s with this face of mine?”

You blink long and hard, your face feeling all too warm, but your eyes don’t miss the way Jaehyun’s brows knot together. The sound you emit next comes out more like a giggle and you reckon it’s the alcohol working in you but the answer you say next isn’t exactly induced by the intoxication either.

“Handsome.”

Jaehyun gapes at you for a moment, blinking, dumbfounded. He’s been complimented many times before, but they all didn’t matter to him.

Until tonight.

Winter three.

The Danube river is the second largest river in Europe, after the river Volga. It flows through ten countries, Hungary, being one of them and has a whopping length of nearly three thousand kilometres. This fact amazes you as you lean back and sit on a bench situated not too far from the glorious Parliament Building, a warm cup of coffee in your hand that heats the tips of your fingers. You wonder what it might look like in other cities it flows through, what the views might be like over there, and if there are people who ponder on the same questions as you.

As you exhale another breath of cold, crushing December evening air, your mind drifts to Jaehyun, tilting your head to let your eyes fall on the other side of the river, vaguely making out the outline of the Fisherman’s Bastion through the light fog, where Jaehyun had magically appeared out of nowhere the previous year and where he kindly took photos of you the year before that. Maybe that’s why the Danube river reminds you so much of Jaehyun, because on two occasions, it had been the same view you both shared, a little something you like to consider a common thing between you both. The river looks incredible and the mere thought of its properties is enough to fascinate you in more ways than one, much like Jaehyun. His appearance has always been so.. alluring. But underneath all that, he was just as captivating, the many layers to his personality in the brief moments you get to witness them, a testament to that.

“I’m beginning to think you're following me.”

All the hairs on your skin stand, fate seeming to work for the third time in three consecutive years because when you look to your left, there stands Jaehyun with that same smile he always greets you with, the very man on your thoughts just half second ago.

“Excuse me? I was here first.”

You’re grinning when he takes a seat beside you, happy to see him. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he jokes, his smile getting wider, his dimples catching your attention.

You roll your eyes playfully, “I know. I’m kind of tired seeing you here.”

Jaehyun shrugs with a chuckle escaping his lips, “I feel the same way. So who is it gonna be? Do you leave or do I?” You laugh then, making him laugh with you. When the silence falls, Jaehyun’s gaze on you doesn’t, in awe of how the world works. “How have you been, y/n?”

“Good,” you nod, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I’ve been good. Still the same. How about you?”

“I’ve been well, thank you.” So you spend the next half an hour filling each other on what’s happened in the past year. Jaehyun talks about his job and how it’s allowed him to meet new people from different places, his friends who are still as loud and as boisterous as ever and his plans of maybe adopting a pet to keep him company at home. You let him ramble on and on, spurring him to talk even more when you ask him questions here and there because if you were being honest, there wasn’t much to fill him in in relation to your life. Now that you think about it, you don’t recall ever talking about yourselves during your encounters with Jaehyun. Maybe a small thing or two, but nothing major, nothing in depth like his stories.

You wonder if he’s noticed.

Jaehyun’s in the middle of a sentence when your eyes become empty, his words drowned out by your thoughts and even though you’re looking at him, you speculate he's noticed because he stops talking abruptly. You see him smile lightly, tracing his eyes at the ground before looking at you, the silence allowing him to gather his words.

He’s definitely noticed.

“I want to know more about you y/n.”

So that’s how you end up leading the way the very next day, Jaehyun letting you tour him this time, as if he hadn’t already been to this place you’re planning on taking him. All he was instructed was to bring something to wear for swimming to which he immediately countered with an “swimming?! In this freezing weather?!” But he does as he’s told anyway, at least with what he’s told you this morning that he might have struggled to find something to wear at such short notice.

When you arrive at the Szechenyi Thermal baths, Jaehyun’s mouth forms an “o” and you unknowingly grab him by the wrist to pull him inside with you. It takes about five minutes to validate the tickets you’ve bought online the night prior and ten minutes for the two of you to get changed and lock your belongings away safely. Jaehyun appears by the corridor in shorts that fall below his knees while you come out in a bikini bra with shorts to pair it. When you see each other, you both burst out laughing, the exact same thought crossing in your minds: who’s crazy enough to be swimming outdoors during such a harsh Winter? But the steam outside, floating from the hot surface of the water serves as some sort of reassurance that maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you both initially thought it would be.

“This is crazy,” Jaehyun mumbles but he’s grinning anyway, stopping just right by the door that leads to the outdoor baths. “I’ve heard of this place before but I've never actually been here.”

You nudge his arm with your elbow, a teasing smile on your face. “I’m a great tour guide, amen’t I? To have found such a place you actually haven’t been to.” You walk past Jaehyun and reach for the door, an icy gust of wind immediately greeting you making you shiver to the core. “I’m gonna run, I’ll see you there!”

“You are.. great,” Jaehyun finds himself mumbling when you disappear in the mist. He follows suit not too long after, realising just why you sprinted your way to the waters so as to avoid the freezing air. He finds you by the bottom of the pool stairs, soaking yourself in the hot waters that completely cancels out the cold. Jaehyun sighs in relief when he steps in, sinking himself in until he finds himself beside you.

“This is the best thing ever?” Jaehyun comments, feeling all his muscles relax as the currents warm his body.

“Right?” you almost exclaim, feeling all too excited. “I don’t even feel the cold anymore?”

You’re not sure how but Jaehyun gets you talking about yourself as you round the pools together, seeing many other people on the way, basking in the comfort of the hot waters as yourselves. You begin to share about your life, in the same way he did last year, trying to give as much detail as him but careful enough not to overshare. You tell him you work at a pharmacy, owned by your parents that’s most likely going to be passed down to you. You talk about your parents too and what they’re like, how they’ve dedicated their whole lives into ensuring a good future for their business. You mention your older brother whom you haven’t seen in almost two years, having moved four years ago as soon as he’d graduated university to seek a bigger opportunities abroad.  

“So is working at the pharmacy what you really want to do?” Jaehyun asks softly after a while when you finish talking, the questioning having remained in his head ever since the mention of your family’s business.

You remember your older brother asking you the exact same question years ago, just before he’d left for good, knowing all too well that he’d have the same fate as you had he not eased your parents into letting him go for years on end up until his graduation. The thing was, your brother saw so much potential in you, so much more than you would ever see in yourself, no matter how hard you looked and maybe that’s why you doubted yourself so much all these years. And every single time, your doubts always overpowered even the smallest possibility or desire of leaving.

Of course it wasn’t what you wanted. It really wasn’t.

And you’ve been scared to admit that to your brother, let alone yourself. But looking at Jaehyun now, peering into your eyes as the subtle rays of the sun peek through the clouds momentarily, falling onto his features, you feel safe, safe enough to admit what you couldn’t before.

Maybe not so forwardly.

“I don’t want to leave my parents,” you answer honestly, forcing a small smile. That was another reason, if not, probably the biggest reason holding you back.

Jaehyun only smiles at you warmly, signalling he understands and doesn’t press onto the matter further, thinking maybe it was a too much of a big question to ask so early in the day. Nonetheless, he appreciates your honesty.

Jaehyun offers you a hand out of the pool after another two hours of conversation and splashing each other with water on the face until either one surrenders. You’re immediately shivering when you step out but Jaehyun is quick to clad your shoulders with a towel before taking his own even when he’s shivering way more than you are.

When Jaehyun decides it’s too early to go back into town, you take a stroll around the vicinity of the baths after getting changed, traipsing along the paths with evidence of snow being scraped off of them to the side where it mounts slightly higher before it levels off again. Jaehyun is a good listener, picking up certain details about your previous mentions to ask you more questions in attempts of getting to know you better. It feels unusual because you feel that you’ve always been one to be on the listening end, definitely not on the talking one. But Jaehyun makes it so easy despite the unfamiliarity of it all. You’re not sure how, but it didn’t matter, it made you stop and think about yourself for a while.

You hear distant echoes of screams and cheers up ahead and it grabs your attention as well as Jaehyun’s. As you walk further, you reach a bridge and right under it reveals an ice rink so vast and and so wide, with a lot of people gliding through the ice, some with ease, some not so. You stand there, watching people below for a while. It looked so much fun.

“Have you much experience with ice skating?”

You laugh unknowingly, “Why do you think I'm up here and not down there?”

Jaehyun laughs shortly but not for long when he’s grabbing you by the hand and tugging you along with him. “No no Jaehyun we are not ice skating!” you plea from behind him but he takes no notice, continuing to pull you with ease, his hand surprisingly warm on your skin. To Jaehyun, it was the perfect time to be ice skating; the sun was about to set, the streetlights about to illuminate everything in the path, and definitely the perfect time to be holding your hand.

Jaehyun leaves you with no choice when he pays for two pairs of skates without your consultation, earning himself a grimace from you when he hands you your own pair. You watch him quietly, puzzled as he skilfully secures his skates on, one foot at a time. He stands then, the blades adding a little more to his already tall stature and when he sees your skates still in your hands, unmoved since he’d given them to you, he takes you by the shoulders with his palms, gently guiding you to sit on the bench he had just been on. He bends to the ground then and wordlessly unzips each one of your boots so that he can take them off and replace them with skates. You keep your eyes on him, his brows furrowed and lips pressed together as he focuses on his task.

For the first time, you didn’t feel as cold.

“Well?” He says when he stands again after making sure your skates were tight enough, outstretching his hand for you to take.

Turns out Jaehyun doesn’t let go of your hand the whole time you skate around the rink, not after you almost flat on your face the moment you step onto the ice, his fast reflexes preventing a potential injury just in time. And it feels nice, so nice to be laughing and giggling with him as you glide along the ice while dodging other people, his hand holding yours so firmly it makes skating less daunting. Jaehyun uses his other hand to fish his phone out of his pocket and take pictures of you, though you’re unsure they come out nice because you can’t stop laughing for some reason, especially not after you almost lose balance and almost fall on your back. When you reach the edge, mutually deciding to slow down to catch your breaths, Jaehyun pulls you close to him until your body’s pressed up against his, his arm naturally landing itself around your shoulder, his phone up in the air so that he can take a picture of you both. You’re too astonished to even realise his intentions that the camera captures you staring up at Jaehyun, stunned, while he, on the other hand, smiles widely at the device.

“So will I see you here next year again?” Jaehyun asks after he swallows a bite of his burger at the best burger place he claims he has ever been to, to which you agree on when you take the first bite of yours, your stomach growling from not having eaten anything all day since breakfast in addition to all the swimming and ice skating.

You grin teasingly, leaning closer to him, narrowing your eyes, “Why? You want to see me again?”

“Yes.”

You were joking just half a second ago but Jaehyun was most certainly not. Not in the way his eyes remain on you and definitely not in the way he answers without hesitation. He’s caught you off guard yet again and you’re blinking up at him, at a loss for what to say.

“So will I be seeing you next year?” he repeats, this time more adamant. “Will I?”

You lean away from him and laugh it off casually. “Have you always been this persistent?”

“When I want something, yeah.”

Jaehyun insists on taking you back to your accommodation and you didn’t have the heart to refuse. The journey back feels long and it’s mostly because it’s eerily quiet between the two of you, neither of you having enough courage to start a conversation. Jaehyun’s playing with the tips of his fingers on the subway, his lower lip caught between his teeth, too lost in his own thoughts. He had always been one to be honest and definitely forward, but he wished he wasn’t any of those tonight because he’s convinced it’s exactly what had probably scared you away. You’re eyes shift on anything on the moving train but Jaehyun, feigning interest on the ads plastered on the ceiling above, as if you could even understand the language, but at this point, you were desperate to get your mind off Jaehyun, his presence right beside you, let alone the mere thought of him, creating a haze in your mind.

Attachment was never part of the plan.

Yet here you were, wondering what the next year might be like if it didn't consist of meeting Jaehyun and going off to places that definitely was not on your agenda.

Jaehyun stands awkwardly in front of you as you come to a halt just outside the front entrance of your hotel. You take one good look at him as he keeps his eyes to the ground because Jaehyun had found you on your last day of your stay this year which meant that this wa the last time you’d get to see him for maybe another year, if you decided to be honest with yourself tonight.

“Jaehyun?” you call out, grabbing his attention immediately when he stops kicking the ground.

He looks up at you, an apologetic smile on his face. “Thanks for today, I had so much fun. And for bringing me back too.”

“It’s no problem.”

His words from earlier echo in your head, making you wish you were as sure as he was when it came to wanting something in life because you knew, it was something you had been running away from all your life. And you were sure he knew that too and in a sense, it felt like he was testing you; trying to see if you had enough courage to make decisions in relation to what you wanted. Maybe Jaehyun knew what you wanted even before you even had the chance to figure  it out. Either that, or he was just really good at making guesses.

It was time to be honest.

So you step forward until you’re close enough to him and he watches you without blinking, his whole attention on you. And when you reach up to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, you could almost swear you felt the heating up of his cheeks during the short contact.

“I’ll see you next year, Jaehyun.”

Winter four.

You’re not sure how you’ve been surviving for the past four years without keeping in contact with Jaehyun because you feel it the most today; you miss him. It doesn’t make sense at all. How could you miss someone you’ve spent just a day with, maybe at most, two days, for the past few years? Was that enough to miss someone this bad? According to your experience, yes. Because standing right here, right in front of the Shoes by the Danube Bank, a memorial created to honour the Jews who lost their lives during the second World War, overlooking the calm stream of the river, you wished nothing more than to see him. Unknowingly, seeing Jaehyun had become the highlight of your trip, if not, your year and what made this year scarier was that you were expecting to see him, especially after what you had said to him last year. And expectations always meant there were greater chances of disappointments. This year wasn’t like the previous ones because this time, it would no longer be all about coincidences and luck, it was all about the desire to see each other. And on your end, the feeling of missing him too.

It didn’t make sense, none of it did.

But then again, when did anything ever make sense?

Jaehyun had always found you in places that overlooked the river and in the next few days that come during your stay, you come back to all the spots by the Danube in hopes of seeing him there. But you don’t. He doesn’t show. And you’re beginning to lose hope, your insides crushing at the thought of what you’re feeling being a one-sided thing. Had Jaehyun given you mixed signals last year? Was he even giving signs? Did you misinterpret everything? It was certainly feeling like you were wrong about your whole situation the whole time when the sun rises on the second last day of your stay, your time running out and your week coming to an end. The days seem to fly even when you’re doing nothing but roam the city aimlessly and even when you try to make the most of the time you have left without Jaehyun, none of it feels the same. Budapest reminds you too much of him and seeing pieces of him in everything you looked and visited, only added to the emptiness you tried so hard to suppress.

This will definitely be your last time here.

“Stop worrying,” you speak into the phone, picking up a Christmas tree ornament from the table of one of the booths in the Christmas market. “Mom, I’m fine here, I promise.”

“You say that all the time,” she replies, her tone not one tad bit satisfied with your answer. “I wish I went with you.”

You roll your eyes playfully, handing the small star shaped ornament to the vendor so that you could pay for it. “And you do this every year too. I’ve been traveling for four years straight and I come back in one piece all the time, don’t I? I’ll be fine this time around too.”

“Don’t mind your mother! She’s just being a worry wart!” your hear your dad distantly on the line, making you smile. Your mom hisses at him just as you hand money to the woman behind the table. “Is there a reason why you always leave at this time of the year? And to the same place too?” your mom asks, concern in her voice.

There hadn’t been a particular reason at first, remembering how your finger had landed randomly on Hungary on the map when deciding where to fly to spontaneously, feeling the need to just get away for a while back then. And it had been your plan to do the exact same thing when it came to deciding where to go next after the first. But you found yourself coming back to the same place every single time and surely there was obviously a reason why.

But your mom didn’t have to know that.

“No particular reason mom,” you reply after seconds of silence, retrieving the ornament from the woman, now safe in a small turquoise paper bag. “I just really like it here in Budapest. It’s beautiful.” You thank the vendor before walking away and it takes another five minutes of convincing your mom you’re okay on your own before you’re putting your phone away in your pocket.

It’s early in the day, yet the markets are already being swarmed by people. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice a crowd rush past you, making you stumble forward when someone bumps against you, continuing on in their path after sparing you a mere glance and an inaudible apology. You’re lucky enough the paper bag in your hand doesn’t fall, for sure the ornament shattering into pieces if it did.

At such an unconventional time, your thoughts come back to Jaehyun, the memory of him shielding you away from a bustling crowd at the bastion flashing before your eyes. Everywhere really did remind you of him and it was starting to get on your nerves because with every little reminder came with a little spark of hope that you would be seeing him this year too, setting you up for even greater heights of disappointment.

Exhaling a sigh, you carry onwards, not really knowing where you’re headed. You keep your eyes plastered to the ground, thinking that maybe it could temporarily solve your inner dilemmas. If you didn’t see your surroundings, then there’d be no reminder of Jaehyun’s absence. Focus on your shoes, focus on the grey linings of the pavement, focus on anything but the fact that the reason for your visit might have bailed on you. Jaehyun wasn’t obliged to meet you, you knew that, but still, the thought left a sour taste in your mouth–

You get the fright of your life when you’re hauled off the street by the arm and into an alley that appears to be deserted by the public. But what surprises you even more is how close you are to the culprit of your heart dropping to the ground from shock. Both of your arms have landed on the stranger’s chest, most likely as a defence mechanism, a barrier between the both of you. And you’re preparing for the worst, to be taken away or to be harmed because this was exactly how people go missing. Now you understood why your mom had been so worried and you silently wish she tagged along with you.

But nothing happens.

“You’re gonna get run over by those crowds if you continue to not pay attention.”

You look up.

“Hi.”

You’re glad to see him but your first instinct is to hit him.

“How are– hey! Ow!”

“I thought you weren’t coming you idiot!”

“I’m sorry!”

“You should be!”

You push yourself away from him, straightening yourself and tugging at your clothes. You find him grinning at you and it pisses you off even more. He crosses his arms across his chest and leans on the wall behind him.

“So you were waiting for me, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, finding no humour in the situation. His face reminds you of the stress from the past few days induced by wondering if he'd even show up. “I don’t find how this is funny.”

“Were you?”

“Where the hell have you been anyway?”

He grins even more.

“Don’t answer my question with another question, y/n.”

“I thought we agreed on this last year?” You counter again.

“Were you or were you not waiting for me?”

Jaehyun was still as persistent as you remember him last.

“Fine. Yes.”

You shut your eyes at your confession, already planning in your head for possible escapes to run away from the situation. But he doesn’t let you because he’s tugging at your arm again, hard enough that you land on his chest again. The only difference this time is that he has his arms around you, squeezing your body into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I'm late. Something came up at home.”

Unknowingly, you relax in his embrace, the exhaustion of wondering and waiting catching up to you. “I fly back tomorrow,” you mumble.

Jaehyun stills for a bit before he tightens his hug around you. “Are you free today?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s enough time.”

None of you budge from your position, letting Jaehyun hug you for as long as he wanted, for as long as you became sure he was really here. Besides, he served as a nice human heater from the cold for the meantime.

“Missed you,” he murmurs.

Glad to know you weren’t the only one.

------

Spending the whole day with Jaehyun had never been this good and you think it’s because he hasn’t let go of your hand all day. You didn’t have any particular destination in mind today, silently agreeing with one another that today didn’t have to be all about lists of places to go to, it would just be about wandering anywhere and everywhere with each other. You didn't mind at all, even when you both loose yourselves in places you have never come across. Maybe getting lost was the only thing on today’s agenda. Every now and then, Jaehyun would steal quick glances at you, a shy smile playing on his lips and you feign ignorance by pretending not to notice because if you looked his way and met his eyes during those occasions, you weren’t sure if it would be healthy for your heart. You were already slowly melting just feeling his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, what more if you actually caught his eyes.

In the middle of the laughs and the mini facts you share about each other in the midst of playing twenty one questions during your trails, Jaehyun is snapping pictures almost every five minutes, of sceneries and buildings around you but mostly, of you doing the most mundane things like staring up at the structures, picking up random things in shops or laughing at something he had said. Jaehyun tried to be discrete about it at first but it was hard to keep that up when he was constantly lifting his camera almost every chance he got.

“I’m pretty sure you have enough pictures of me already, Jae,” you point out, shaking your head when he takes another one of you walking towards him after buying a chimney cake for you both to share. “And I’m pretty sure you’re going to end up deleting half of them too.”

Jaehyun finally lets go of his camera and lets it hang around his neck, taking the cake from you so that he can rip off a piece for you. “You’re right.”

“Exactly so–”

“You are pretty.”

You stop chewing on the piece of cake. “What? That’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what I meant.”

You don’t argue anymore because Jaehyun resumes on eating the cake and you feel that if you poked on the topic further, it would worsen the already reddening of your cheeks. So you dismiss it, pretend like you’re not a blushing mess by continuing to eat another piece of chimney cake that he's handing over to you. Too bad that the reason Jaehyun is grinning so widely to himself is in fact because of the blushing of your cheeks.

When the sun sets and the moon takes over in the vastness of the night sky, you find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Jaehyun in one of the cars of the Budapest Eye, a Ferris wheel that gives you an aerial view of the city. You’ve seen Budapest from up high before, when Jaehyun had taken you to the St Stephen’s basilica, climbing an awful lot of stairs to reach the dome. But Budapest at night was something else too with the lights making everything glow in its path. The Chain Bridge looks magnificent from up there and you’re silent as you marvel at the view, the car stopping briefly to allow more passengers to jump in at the bottom car.

“It’s so.. beautiful,” you say, eyes sparkling at the view outside the window.

Jaehyun agrees, “Yeah,” though his eyes are not on the bridge. “So beautiful.”

You turn abruptly and catch him already staring at you and it spurs him to look away immediately, clearing his throat in the process. You take your phone out of your pocket and press for the camera icon, scooting away from Jaehyun. “It’s not fair that you have pictures of me and I have none of you.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “You could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss, not in the mood to have another exchange with him. You take a picture of him right there and then, not even bothering to give him a heads up. It’s a picture of him looking straight ahead, his dimple showing on the side of his face, looking cosy and warm. Even when he isn’t trying, he still looked as good as ever.

“Hey, I wasn't ready,” he complains and tries to have a peek at the photo.

“Now you know how I felt the entire day,” you counter, unamused. “The picture looks good though.”

“Good enough to be your wallpaper?” Jaehyun asks teasingly.

Of course it was. Probably every single photo of Jaehyun is good enough to be anyone's wallpaper. But he didn’t need to know that. “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jaehyun laughs and scoots over to you, making the car shake slightly, prompting you to hold on to the bar next to you. “Hey be careful,” you warn him, earning yet another chuckle from him.

“Let’s take a picture together, so you have one of us too,” he suggests and takes your phone swiftly off your hands. Jaehyun slings an arm around your shoulders and naturally, you lean towards him, even going as far as resting your head between the space of his neck and shoulder. It seems to satisfy Jaehyun because you can see his smile broaden through the screen of your phone just before he presses the button to take the picture.

It feels nice to be this close to Jaehyun and he gives your shoulder a light squeeze as a silent affirmation that you didn't have to pull away so soon, that you could stay right where you were even as he lowers your phone after the picture’s been taken. Your arms find shelter around Jaehyun’s waist in the seconds that come, as the wheel continues to spin and as the car ascends again. You release a sigh of relief, feeling the calmest you’ve ever been in so long and it makes you close your eyes, to feel Jaehyun’s warmth a little more, to bask in his presence while he’s here. Jaehyun’s rubbing at your shoulder gently with the palm of his hand, leaning closer to you until his temple rests on the top of your head.

Neither of you speak for a while, the silence too delicate and fragile to disturb. It’s refreshing; not having to think or worry about anything for now, Jaehyun’s mere presence enough to cancel out every little insignificant thing. You take it all in because tomorrow would be a whole different story.

When the wheel stops spinning and your car halts at the bottom, you peel yourself away from Jaehyun and prepare to leave when you notice the tips of his ears are a deep shade of red. You can’t stop looking at them even as he helps you off the car. “Jae? Your ears, they’re really red.”

“Oh?” His hands fly to touch either of them. “I feel really warm.”

You frown at him, “It’s minus five degrees.”

“Oh, must be the cold.”

So in order to fight the “cold”, Jaehyun insists on grabbing mulled wine on your trek back to your hotel and as you down the warm beverage, the more honest your conversations get. Maybe it’s the certain percentage of alcohol in the drink or the fact that time was ticking against the both of you, but it seemed very fitting to be honest around each other now. You also get to understand Jaehyun a little better.

“Remember when I thought you were a model at first?” you recall your earliest memories of Jaehyun, his hand clasped in yours. “And how shocked I was when you said you were head of a marketing team because I really did think you were a model.”

Jaehyun smiles at you fondly. “You’re not wrong. I was a model once.”

“No way? Really?”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?”

Jaehyun stops in his steps, a sad smile adorning his lips, eyes kept to the ground. You look back at him, his hand pulling on yours as he stops walking. He looks up at you then, eyes a little sorrowful, “I got tired of it. Tired of having to look perfect all the time.”

When your paper cups are empty and discarded, both of you find yourselves seated on a bench that gives you a great view of the Chain Bridge up close. You sit as close to each other as possible to preserve warmth, the cold not enough to bother you both, especially you, not when Jaehyun had so much more to say.

“That’s when I knew modelling wasn’t for me,” he starts, gazing at your intertwined hands. “Getting praises left and right for how I looked was great for a while, it boosted my confidence a lot. But at some point, it got too much,” he looks at you, “It felt like my appearance was the only thing that mattered. No one knew me and no one took the time to get to know me. One look at my face and they thought that that was all they needed from me. I got validation for my looks rather than for who I was as a person.”

Jaehyun draws in a breath, “It just wasn't fulfilling. And I felt pressured to look good all the time. I just knew it wasn’t for me then.”

You stare at him, studying his features. Who would’ve known that his appearance gave him such huge burden at some point. Yet you understand where he's coming from, relating all too well what it feels like to have to put up a front all the time.

Jaehyun is about to say something next and you’re sure it’s something that will change the topic altogether, but you don’t let him just yet because you had to let him know.

“You’re way more than your appearance, Jae.” He trails his eyes on you then, lifting his head up for the first time. “Way way more than your looks. You’re kind, you’re intelligent, you’re hardworking and you’re good at taking care of people around you. Not to mention, your touring skills too.” Jaehyun’s eyes on you don’t falter for even a second and you avoid his gaze by resting your head on his shoulder. “I wish people could see that, how great of a person you really are.”

“You mean that?”

“Mhm. I really do.”

Jaehyun stares out into the river feeling his chest a lot lighter, never really knowing it had been that heavy in the first place. Everyone had insecurities and what Jaehyun had just spoken of, was definitely his. For so long, he'd been carrying it with him, everywhere he went, everything he did, feeling like nobody really saw him from the inside out.

Until now. Until you.

And that was definitely the tipping point for him.

The final push that made him so sure he was definitely falling for you.

“What do you think will happen to us next year?” Jaehyun asks softly, playing with your fingers. “You know this unspoken no-contact-with-each-other rule is getting really hard.”

Jaehyun sounds like he’s joking but you know he’s serious. If you were being honest, it was taking its toll on you too. The past year had consisted of mornings with thoughts of Jaehyun and wondering and asking how he might be doing. You were at home, not even in Budapest yet you still thought of him almost every single day. But the idea of not having contact with Jaehyun seemed more ideal because it meant this whole thing didn’t demand any sort of commitment. It was a one time thing during a specific time of year. It also meant limiting the chances of a potential heartbreak because if you were going to be very very honest with yourself, a whole day with Jaehyun was enough for you to unconsciously become attached.

“I was thinking of maybe going to another country,” you answer finally after so long, weighing all your what ifs and possible outcomes of what you’re about to say. “You know my dad, I think my dad’s been more open-minded to me traveling and seeing the world now.”

“Yeah?”

You nod against his shoulder, “Mhm. Remember how I told you it took my brother years and years to finally convince my parents to let him live abroad? Well, my dad sat down with over coffee a few months back and said he really likes seeing me talk about my travels. He said it’s probably the happiest he’s ever seen me.”

Jaehyun is smiling at you when you lift your head off his shoulder, “And I was thinking I could go somewhere else so that I'd have a different country to talk to him about.” It was a shallow reason but not exactly a lie. Your dad had been hesitant of letting you go, much like Jaehyun’s parents, but the more you left home every year, the more lenient and supportive he had become in allowing you to fly. It sparked hope in you, that these travels would be the key for you to ease them into realising that maybe staying at home forever and working at a place you've known all your life wasn't exactly what you wanted.

But the bigger reason why you didn’t want to come back to this place that had become your ultimate favourite had something to do with the past week in Jaehyun’s absence. Everywhere here reminded you of him and there were too much memories in all the places you walk by, too much memories of a person who probably was just as unsure as you as to where this whole thing between you was heading towards. You were only beginning to figure out your life and you weren’t confident you needed one more thing that needed figuring out on your list.

“I’m really happy for you y/n,” Jaehyun says genuinely but a question lingers in his mind. Where was he in the picture? “Do you have your eyes set somewhere in particular?”

You shake your head because you had no clue, besides, you had only made up your mind just there. “Not yet, no.”

Jaehyun purses his lips together in a thin line as he falls silent. Was he expecting too much? Because the utter disappointment certainly felt like it. “So, I guess I won’t be seeing you next year then?”

His voice breaks your heart because his words come out in a bare whisper, sounding more like a statement for himself rather than a question for you.

“Jae–”

“It’s alright.”

It really wasn't, but in his eyes, you didn't need to know that. You were under no obligation to see him despite how he felt for you and maybe your decision would be the best for the two of you.

“Can you just, come here?” Jaehyun asks extending his arm out, beckoning you to come and rest against him. You follow, leaning into him until you’re comfortably pressed up against his side, his arm around your waist keeping you secure. Jaehyun exhales a breath, a small and brief fog getting lost in the air. “I hope you had fun today, y/n, I did.”

“Jae please don’t.”

You’ve made your decision but you were definitely not ready for a goodbye yet.   You take your head off of his shoulder so that you can look at him, his sad eyes a reminder of what awaits tomorrow. Your eyes are reflected on his and they appear just as miserable as his. You lean forward until your forehead touches with his, taking in what’s left of your time together. You feel the warmth of his breath on your skin and suddenly you're too aware of how close you both are to each other. So when you pull away, your eyes drift to his lips just as his are on yours.

And you feel like you're going to regret it forever if you don’t do what your brain’s telling you to do. So you shut your eyes and lean in close, until your lips meet with his, time standing still, bodies warming at the contact.

Jaehyun reciprocates the kiss, shifting his hands so that one keeps you still by nape, one caressing your jaw. If Jaehyun couldn’t tell you with words how much he wanted you to stay, he hoped he could express it in the kiss that makes his head spin and his heart hammer against his ribcage.

Because he wanted nothing more but to keep seeing you, even if it meant waiting another year.

But it mustn’t have been enough.

Because you don’t change your mind.

And you still leave the next day, without any promise of a next year to look forward to.

Winter five.

It feels unusual not to be in the same place for the fifth winter in a row but at the same time, it feels good to be somewhere you’ve never been, all the places you have yet to see, endless. The grand city of Paris known as the city of lights, well recognised for its exquisite cuisine, unique culture and historic monuments, but also known as the city of love. You’ve researched a tonne of information prior to landing and the word “love” related to the city intrigues you the most. The internet and travel brochures list many reasons as to why Paris is indeed the city of love but being here now, having strolled down the Champs Elysees and having followed the River Seine along its path, you could definitely feel and see why it was recognised as a romantic city. In almost every direction you looked, couples were scattered everywhere, holding hands, taking pictures of one another, sharing a laugh. Love was all around and it wasn’t even Valentine’s day. You feel loved too because you’re greeted with smiles as you walk past people, making your insides warm and fuzzy.

But there’s also that feeling too.

You miss him.

And you can’t get the image of him from that night out of your head because he was smiling yet his eyes spoke of a different story. No matter how much you try to push him out of your thoughts, even going as far as picking some place else as to avoid him, it was almost impossible because your subconscious had developed this habit of naturally looking for him the moment you stepped on a plane to fly off to somewhere. Maybe picking Paris was a mistake because now you were imagining what it would be like to see the view from up the Eiffel Tower with him. After all, the greatest views of your life have so far been shared with him. And to think that Paris is indeed the city of love... you couldn't help but wonder if this trip would have been more meaningful if you hand’t been so scared that night.

You catch yourself sighing again as you turn the page of your book, your half empty cup of coffee sitting in front of you on a table that overlooks the River Seine. Brené Brown says that “vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” You lift your eyes off the page and contemplate, letting your eyes wander over the crystals on the river that shine as a result of the sun’s rays shining on the surface. Vulnerability. Weakness. Courage. These three words ring in your head and though very different from one another, seem to complement each other very well.

Vulnerability.

What was it like to be vulnerable? You sit and contemplate and come to the conclusion after minutes of trying to recall times where you have been vulnerable, that in fact, no memory comes to mind. With this discovery, comes the realisation that you had so much inside of you to unpack, so much emotions repressed deep down and so much issues that needed to be addressed and talked about. Vulnerability suddenly seemed so daunting to you because it meant letting people in and you weren’t certain you wanted to allow that yet. You’ve been putting up your walls so high all your life that it’s horrifying to even think about lowering them down even just a tiny bit.

Your train of thought gets interrupted with the shrill ringing of your phone. You’re quick to fish it out of your bag and slide the green button across the screen just in time to hear you dad’s voice on the other line. “Hey, dad.”

“Hey sweetheart, how’s Paris?” He sounds excited to hear from you, you can literally hear him smiling through the phone.

He makes you smile genuinely, as if what you were thinking seconds prior to this phone call didn't just make you contemplate your whole life altogether. “Paris is great. Absolutely beautiful dad, I wish you could come and visit sometime.”

He chuckles on the line and you can imagine the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes appear. “That would be great. I can’t wait to hear all of your stories when you get back.”

“In three days dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you reply, the thought of going back neither making you happy nor sad.

There’s a long pause that follows before your dad speaks again. “Everything alright sweetheart?”

Everything was alright. But it didn’t really feel like it.

“Y-yeah. Just, uhh, thinking.”

You hear shuffling in the background followed by a quiet sound of a door opening and closing and you figure your dad had just gone out to the patio, his favourite part of the house back home, most likely looking upwards to see if there were any stars visible in his night sky.

“Listen love, I know you fly back in three days, but no rush okay? Take as much time as you need,” he reassures and somehow he’s unintentionally lifted so much weight off of your chest, the sincerity coated with a hint of worry in his voice triggering your waterworks. “Take all the time you need to think. We owe you at least that. I’ll deal with your mom.”

“Dad.”

“Alright I gotta go. Stay safe and take lots of pictures! Love you.”

Weakness.

Your parents were your absolute weakness, and possibly the biggest hindrances to all the things that your heart would’ve desired. You could never imagine breaking their hearts, that was the absolute last thing you’d ever want to do. That’s why you think you’ve been living such a sheltered life with no risks, no boundaries overstepped and certainly no rules broken. You’ve been programmed to portray the image of the most perfect child to your parents that even the thought of disappointing them makes you grimace and your chest tighten. They take pride in you, always showing you and all the things you’ve achieved, off to friends and family and the absolute perfect person they know you to be.

But why wasn’t it fulfilling at all?

Love was making your loved ones happy, wasn’t it?

You’ve known nothing all your life but to put family first and now that your dad was pushing you to spend time away from them and dedicate it to yourself, you’re beginning to think that maybe you hadn't been so discreet with what you’ve worked so hard to hide. Now that he was urging you to put yourself first, it felt like abandoning everything you’ve known all your life and starting on a clean, blank slate. He definitely saw something you didn't.

But where do you even begin?

“Oh my God I can’t believe you’re here!” You shriek as you see a familiar man standing by the revolving doors by the entrance of your hotel. You pick up your pace and run to the person you haven’t seen in so long, tears almost brimming your eyes as you find yourself crushed in a tight hug.

Your brother laughs against your shoulder, tightening his hug, “And I can’t believe you didn't tell me you were in Paris? Which is literally what? Right beside where I am?”

You hug him some more before you finally let go of him, eyeing him from head to toe, unconsciously picking out on things that have changed over the years, but much to your surprise, you don’t find any. “How did you know?”

Kun chuckles, “Mom called.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Of course.”

“She’s just worried about you,” Kun defends.

“When is she not?”

“Feisty as always,” Kun comments, ruffling your hair.

Kun fills you in on what’s been happening in his life in the years he’s been away from home. He tells you all about Berlin and how much he loves it there, how in love he is with work and how different but magnificent the place is. He looks happy, really happy, the happiest you’ve ever seen him in all the years you’ve lived with each other and with your parents. As you listen to him gush about his plans and a possible promotion in Denmark over brunch and warm croissants, you can’t help but feel a wave of admiration for him. Growing up, Kun has always been your role model. Not in a sense that he always pleased your parents, because growing up, Kun, despite having good grades and never getting in trouble, he and your parents were just never on the same page when it came to talks of the future. You admired him because from the very beginning, he always knew what he wanted and sought and fought for it even if it meant hurting those who loved him the most.

“Earth to y/n?” Kun waves a hand in front of your face when he sees you’ve zoned out, your food half touched.

You blink a couple of times before you’re able to refocus on your brother again, “Sorry. What were you saying?”

Kun shakes his head with a smile, “I was asking how mom and dad are at home.”

“They’re okay. Still the same,” you reply and hope it would suffice but the way Kun is looking at you tells you he needed more. “The pharmacies are doing okay. Mom and dad say business is as at its best right now. That’s pretty much what they’re still up to.”

“Mom still as uptight as ever?”

You nod, smiling, “Yeah. She hasn’t changed one bit.”

“Expected that one,” Kun agrees teasingly. “And dad?”

“Dad’s been..” you start, remembering your phone call with him yesterday. “He’s been okay, still goofy.”

“You know dad’s been telling me about your yearly travels,” Kun admits, his tone of voice shifting to a more serious one, taking a sip from his water. “How come you didn't tell me? I know you have my number. And if it weren’t for mom, I would’ve never known you were so close.”

You sigh, dropping your knife and fork on the table, “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just I didn't know what to say or how to tell you. I didn’t even really understand what I was getting myself into. I just.. wanted to go away.”

“Well I can’t say I'm not surprised given I know what you’re like,” Kun says. If there was one person who had known you best, it would be him. “But hell, y/n, I'm so happy for you? I really really am. It mustn’t have been easy leaving on your own like that.”

“You make it sound like I’m a baby, Kun.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Kun leans forward and crosses his arms on the table so that he can rest his weight on it. “What I meant was that, growing up, you were always working so hard to please mom and dad. You always prioritised what they wanted more than anything else and I think in that process, you forgot all about what you wanted. So much that you don’t even know what you actually want because you’ve never had the time to actually think about it.”

Kun’s eyes are sincere and his words even more so. “Dad’s been worrying about you, you know. And not in the way that mom is, like you know with your safety and all that during your travels. But with your life in general.. He’s worried he hasn’t been a great parent to you, that he never really took the time to listen to you or what you wanted.” Kun pauses and releases a sigh, “Dad.. I think he knows you’re not happy at home, y/n.”

Right on instinct, even at this moment, you’re thinking about how horrible your dad must feel for seeing right through all the layers to conceal the truth.

“Was it..” you pause, thinking if it’s the right question to ask but Kun is gazing at you tenderly, just needing his little sister to voice what’s on her mind.

“Was it hard leaving home?”

Kun smiles, “It was harder proving to them I didn't want to stay.” You nod slowly, recounting the endless fights and arguments Kun had with your parents, getting the worst end of it from your mom. “Because I love them to pieces and I saw how much it broke their hearts when I told them.”

“Yeah?”

“And of course, it was hard leaving you too,” he teases, breaking the atmosphere that had almost become suffocating.

You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to lie.”

Kun just laughs, his shoulders shaking as he does before he falls silent again with you, the distant chatters of people in the café filling your ears.

“You should give it a thought, y/n,” he suggests, making you look up from your plate. “About what you want. Mom and dad.. they’ll be okay. Sooner or later they’re going to realise you were made for so much more. And they’re going to be okay with it, because more than anything, they love you and love means letting go too.”

You spend the rest of the day goofing around with your older brother, waves of nostalgia hitting you when it takes you back to older and simpler times. You take lots of pictures together and send it to your parents to which they’re more than ecstatic to receive, your mom’s worries and concerns easing slightly with the knowledge you were with family. Kun teases you nonstop about not having a boyfriend but his teasing backfires when he realises he’s single too, pretending to weep about it in the end. You wonder if you’d tell him about Jaehyun but decide against it knowing more questions would unfold at the mere mention of his name.

“Will you please get in touch with me and stop ignoring my calls and texts?” Kun pleads the next day when you bring him to the airport. “I want to know my sister’s whereabouts too and what she’s up to.”

You laugh as you embrace him for the last time, “I don’t want you tagging along though if I do though.”

“Rude.”

“I’ll pick up your calls, I promise.”

Kun pulls back from the hug and grips you by the shoulders to take one good look at you, “If only my schedule allowed me to stay longer, one day wasn’t enough.”

You smile at him reassuringly, “It’s okay. There’ll be plenty more trips in the future,” he raises his brows at you and gives you a knowing look, “that I promise I will let you know of.”

Kun smiles immediately and pats your head, “Good. Enjoy your last two days okay? And think about what I said.”

You nod eagerly, feeling relieved to have had that conversation with Kun yesterday. “I will. Have a safe flight.”

“Love you.”

When you walk along the River Seine once again, you notice many things along the bridges you didn’t notice before, paintings and artists being some of them. It makes you stop in your step when a particular painting of the Eiffel Tower, located just behind where this particular stand is, catches your eye. It’s a painting of the tower at night, the thousands of lightbulbs lighting up and glistening in the painting with the dashes of yellows and oranges just like it would in real life. You’re tilting your head to the side to really figure out what it is about this painting, besides its perfection, that has you so captivated and feeling some sort of way. You must be staring for so long because the man that’s running the stand approaches you and says something you don’t quite hear the first time around.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asks again in French to which you politely decline with your limited vocabulary.

The sun has fully set when you climb the Eiffel Tower, braving the cold winds to gape at the view below you. It’s all so breathtaking, the way all the lights fall into place, shedding incandescence in all the right places. You can see the river stretch on for miles on end, the buildings that try to rise as high as the Eiffel and the roads that lead to anywhere and everywhere. It’s so gorgeous that you know, even as you take your camera out of your bag, that no photo could ever capture just how magnificent it all was. You give up trying to capture the perfect picture after taking three, choosing to just stop and marvel at the view some more.

Courage.

You don’t have any recollection of moments you’ve been courageous, the closest that comes to mind is probably when you had to stand up in front of an entire lecture hall to give a presentation about the causes and consequences of the rise and fall of economies back in university, or maybe that time you broke it to your parents that you had flights booked for Budapest on a whim, something that up to this day, surprises you greatly they actually let you go. But nothing significant or life changing sticks out, nothing worth giving yourself a pat on the back for accompanied with the words “I’m proud of myself.” You suddenly begin to feel so small then, one big question resonating in your head.

What had you accomplished?

“God, I should’ve known I'd find you here.”

You carry on with your business, turning on your heels to see what the view might be like on the other end of the railing, not really wanting to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation, your distance to them too close you could hear everything.

“You’ve always liked your views.”

Still too close so you keep walking.

“Y/n.”

You freeze. It couldn’t be.

But it really is.

Because when you turn around, Jaehyun is there, eyes set on you with that same smile you can’t stop thinking about.

Your face must have given away how shocked you feel internally because you see Jaehyun chuckling. “What are you...” you can’t even find your voice because it’s as if all the thinking about Jaehyun day and night has actually brought him here to you.

Jaehyun takes a step forward and he sees you flinch, really confirming that he really is real. He stops there in his spot, afraid that if he advanced any further, he’d scare you away completely.

“Look y/n, hear me out. I just need you to listen, okay?” Jaehyun takes a deep breath and that’s when you realise that he’s breathless.

“I don’t know how to say this– but, I– I, like you y/n. And if I'm going to be very honest, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. Which I know sounds crazy considering the short amount of time we’ve spent with each other. But I know, I just know and it’s taken me so long to figure out what to do because I've never even felt this before and I don’t want to scare you away, that’s the last thing I want to do–”

If there were to be a good time to be courageous it would definitely be now and you’re sure you were going to thank yourself later.

In the middle of Jaehyun’s messy confession, your legs take over, bringing you right to him, circle your arms around his neck and prevent him from uttering yet another coherent sentence by kissing him. He pulls you close just in time to confirm this was indeed your reality, that he wasn’t just in your thoughts anymore, that he really was here kissing you too.

For the first time ever, you felt courageous and it felt so liberating.

The heavens pour just when you reach the bottom of the Eiffel Tower and you’re a laughing mess with Jaehyun as you scurry under the rain to get to your hotel, which, you’re thankful is just close by. You’re drenched to the skin when you reach the reception of your hotel, the two of you leaving a little trail of water on the shiny marble floors. You shoot the receptionist an apologetic smile before pulling Jaehyun to the side.

“Whereabouts are you staying?” you ask out of curiosity, gathering up all your hair on top of one shoulder.

Jaehyun smiles bashfully, a hand flying upwards to rub his nape, “Actually... about that.”

“What?” You squint your eyes at him.

“I don’t know yet.”

“What do you mean you don’t know yet?”

Jaehyun swipes his tongue over his lower lip and stuffs his balled palms into the pockets of his wet jeans. “Well, this is actually the fifth country I've been to the past two weeks and I was gonna stop looking for you here–” he purses his lips to stop. “I, I must have forgotten to book myself a hotel and the airlines apparently lost my luggage today.”

You gaze at him in awe, droplets of water dripping down the side of his face, your body warm and your insides even warmer. You can’t suppress the smile that’s getting bigger on your face.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You are one crazy man, Jaehyun.”

But as crazy as he is, you give him shelter for the night, pulling him by the hand to your hotel room. If Jaehyun liked to steal glances at you before, he surely loved to stare at you now, even as you’re using the hairdryer to dry his clothes. You don’t reciprocate his gaze because he was currently half naked with a towel wrapped around his waist. It takes another thirty minutes for his clothes to dry, just enough time for you to finally breathe now that he isn’t smiling at you.

Jaehyun had suggested to take the sofa for the night and you’re quick to say no when you realise that the sofa is literally half his height. His would suffer in the morning having to compromise his height like that the whole night. So that’s how you end up face to face with him on your single bed, faces and bodies just inches away from each other’s, warm and cozy under the sheets. He’s playing with strands of your hair (that has since dried) and it almost lulls you to sleep, if it weren’t for everything you wanted to say to him.

“I think I finally know what I want to do, Jae,” you mumble, your lids closed as he continues the ministrations of his fingers on your hair.

“Yeah? Enlighten me.”

“I want to paint.”

Memories of your childhood replay in your head, the long forgotten hobby re-igniting a spark of passion within you. No wonder the painting by the river earlier captivated you so much, it reminded you of something you had once felt so passionate about.

When Jaehyun doesn’t say anything and when he stops playing with your hair, you open your eyes to find him smiling at you, dimples showing, gaze on you soft, his happiness for you literally written on his face. So you scoot closer just as he welcomes you into his arms, feeling like you’re  right in the place you’re meant to be.

“You are amazing,” he breathes.

“It’s taken me twenty five years to figure out what I want to do with my life Jae, what part of that is amazing?” you muse, tracing your index finger on his forehead to swipe a piece of hair away.  

“And it’s taken me twenty six years to figure out what I want in mine,” Jaehyun chuckles. “That’s one year later than you. I think you’re doing a pretty great job y/n.”

You stare up at him, let your eyes linger on every single one of his features, your finger tracing the soft of his skin. He was even more beautiful up close. Jaehyun watches you closely, studying your expression of awe. Little do you know he had the exact same thoughts as you having you this close to him.

“Jae can we talk about what you said in the tower earlier?”

Jaehyun avoids your gaze and rests his forehead on yours, cuddling you even closer. “Please don’t remind me. That was not how I intended to confess, I swear.”

“But was it true? That you’re, you’re?”

“Yeah, it’s true. I am.”

“Jae look at me,” you say, cupping his cheek. “Please?”

So he opens his eyes and for a brief moment, you swear you see his pupils dilate when he gazes at you. Taking a deep breath, Jaehyun finally finishes off what he had started earlier but not before seeking approval from your eyes which he receives almost immediately.

“I realised that what I've wanted my whole life was to be understood, y/n, just for someone, anyone, to really see me. And I didn’t even realise I wanted that until you saw right through me.” Jaehyun was definitely something else.

“Remember what you said to me last year by the river? That I was so much more than my appearance, that I was way more than what people perceived me to be? I, I didn’t know I needed to hear that until I did. And that’s when I knew, you ripped the words right out of my mouth because finally, someone understood.” Jaehyun smiles softly at you, eyes unmoving the whole time he speaks.

“Someone finally saw me,” he finishes. “You saw me.”

In the silence of your thoughts and in the comfort of Jaehyun’s confession, you let yourself be brave one more time and allow yourself to fall, fall for the beautiful person he is through and through.

The word vulnerable reappears in your head along with the memory of Jaehyun asking the right questions to lead you to what you’ve learned about yourself in the past couple of weeks, maybe even the past few years. With every question came with some sort of an answer that led you closer to discovering just what you might really want in your life. And it gets you thinking that maybe you have been vulnerable before. Once you began looking for Jaehyun, was the exact same time you let him in.

You kept looking for him everywhere because with him, everything seemed to make more sense.

And even though you didn’t have the right words to tell him that for now, you hope that your lips would suffice for now, leaning upwards to catch his soft lips with yours, silently letting him know you felt the same way.

No words would be enough to describe how alive you feel, how alive Jaehyun makes you feel, awakening parts of you that have slept for far too long.

Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.

“Come back to Korea with me,” Jaehyun murmurs when you pull away, keeping yourself warm and safe in his embrace. “My friend’s getting married and I need a date. I want you to be my date.”

You laugh heartily, the sound echoing in the room.

“I would love to be your date, Jae.”

You were definitely not returning home just yet.

#jaehyun #nct #jeong jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct 127 #nct u #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun blurbs #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct blurbs #nct fluff #nct au #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun drabble #jaehyun blurb #nct scenario #nct drabble #nct imagine #nct blurb #jung jaehyun #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines

[starfirette]

Ok but Helena Bertinelli x fem!reader where Helena takes all her pent up anger out on reader thru sex and she just tops the FUCK out of R and it’s super hot and R lowkey loves when Helena gets angry when it leads to steamy sex👀 oof I need a MINUUUTE😫

a/n: this is very smutty. it is more emotionally angry, and y/n more takes her anger out on helena, BUT i think it's good. .......i think?? | 18+

masterlist | more helena | inbox | ships + requests open

Every single piece of furniture was toppled over.

The fine china that you’d once had shelved on display littered the floor in ground little pieces.

It was a shocking scene to say the least, especially when you were expecting to walk through the door and take an instant nap.

After being in Moscow for the week, both you and Helena had been looking forward to coming back to the shared Alaska home high up in the mountains.

As you stared around in a state of shock, Helena pulled you by the waist. It was as though she wanted to shield you from the destruction that laid before your eyes.

You weren’t naive. At least, not too naive. You could recognize what was going on.

The last time something similar happened was three years ago. At that time, you and Helena had recently been married. It was the threats and destruction that followed Helena which caused her to leave Gotham with you in tow. Together, you traveled halfway across the across the country, in search for a haven that would protect you from Helena’s enemies.

But they’d found you. Again.

“Get your coat,” Helena instructed as she pushed you towards the foyer. 

“But-”

“Get your coat, now, Y/n,” she snapped again, not bothering to look at you. 

You felt oddly embarrassed by the way your wife had spoken to you. You mustered a submissive nod as you hurried to pull on the coat you’d just taken off.

Helena’s angry, Italian cursing bounced off the walls as she turned through the house, her shoes crunching over glass. She spoke with someone in the phone. Her words were fast and icy. She rarely spoke in Italian, but you’d been with her long enough to learn some of the lingo.  She spoke about a safe house and about a rabbit--

Maybe rabbit wasn’t the right word. 

But you’re positive it’s something about a safehouse. 

You waited in the foyer, shivering in the heavy coat you wore despite the warmth it was generating. 

Helena came rushing to you after her phone conversation ended. “We’re getting back in the car,” she instructed you, using her hands to physically turn you back to face the door. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked, feeling dumb as she snatched a random sweater from the coat closet. 

“We’ve been found, so we’re leaving,” Helena said again, slowing her words as if she was trying to dumb it down for you. She put her arm around your waist, ushering you out of the house and carefully down the snowy pathway that led to your driveway. The fresh powdered snow had two sets of footprints, your own and Helena’s. You didn’t see any others, nothing that would have alerted you to thinking someone had broken in. 

Your face burned with warmth as Helena buckle you into the passenger seat. You don’t like being babied by her. You were tempted to bitch about the way she was treating you, but you knew better. At least, right now. You try to remember she’s in a panic, and she’s running on auto pilot. 

The car raced down the long driveway that wrapped in a spiral down the mini mountain. 

Your heart thumped in your throat as she sped away from the house. You clutched into your seatbelt, letting it dig into your palms. “Slow down,” you finally blurted out.

Helena grunted in response. Her foot reluctantly pumped the break.  

You know she doesn’t like to be told to slow down, or to relax, or to be safe. Even so, Helena knows you don’t like when she drives to fast, or goes into a rage, or puts her safety on the line. 

The drive was silent as she expertly navigated some snowy backroads. You wanted to talk to her, maybe even distract her from whatever was boiling in her brain. She didn’t explain what was happening. You were left to your own devices. You could only assume she was taking you to one of her safe checkpoints in Cordova. That had been ingrained into to your mind; Cordova is safe. If anything happens, go to Cordova and call someone, whether it be Harley or one of Helena’s contacts in Italy.

You slumped down your seat, shifting all of your body to lean against your door, your head against the window. "I love you," you muttered.

Helena didn't say anything.

The underground house in Cordova spans 500 square feet. It's nothing fancy. It's more of a basic studio flat than a house, really, with a very well structured lay out. The kitchen consisted of a two burner stove and an old fashioned ice box. On that same note, the given bedroom was really just a queen size mattress on the floor, shoved in a corner against the north eastern wall. It had a pile of new pillows, still wrapped in their Macy's store liners.

You dropped your coat on the little coffee table in the dead center of the room. It faced an outdated, but thorough, television set, with a boxy TV and VHS player. Stacks of worn VHS tapes and magazines were laced neatly on the little coffee table, alongside the clunky television remote.

A single door was on the western wall, and you assumed it led to the bathroom.

You pried off your shoes as Helena closed the heavy vault door, turning all of the metal spires so the locks clicked, leaving only you and her within the room.

It was a heavy silence for a couple minutes. Helena didn't do anything but stand, staring intensely at the vaulted door, as if it was responsible for destroying your mountain top mansion.

You curled into the bed. The quilts had the consistency of hotel blankets, thin and flimsy, allowing all the cold air to pass through the threads.

The side of the bed sank when Helena sat down, her long legs bent at the knees awkwardly. Her hand placed softly on your back, which was huddled in the corner of the bed, pulled over with the quilts.

"Are you okay?" Helena asked. Her voice was hard. She sounded as if she were in a great deal of pain.

You rolled over. You faced your own wall, turning your back on her. When you did not answer, Helena asked again. "Don't ignore me," she snapped.

You jerked upright.

Helena looked momentarily surprised, as if she'd watched a corpse rise from his grave. You stared at her with wide, angry eyes.

"Don’t even start,” you snapped, holding up a finger to stop whatever words Helena was about to start blabbering out.

"You're not allowed to speak to me any way you want, any time you want," you added with a jab of your finger. You scrambled to leave the bed, tripping over the bedding as you clumsily plunged out of her reach.

"I understand that you're stressed," you said, trying to control the volume at which you spoke. "But you always take it out on me. You always make me feel like the world's going to end."

Helena pinched her nose, bending so her elbows rested on her knees. She looked stressed, just so stressed, just about as stressed as you were feeling, but maybe less angry and shaky. "This is serious, Y/n," she said slowly, as if she didn't think you would have understood her otherwise.

"Even so, we have to keep our wits about us. We have to keep our relationship steady, otherwise we're just going to fall apart and fail. This relationship will not last. It will not last. We are always going to be chased by these troubles, by your enemies. I think I could handle it if we didn't get into massive fucking fights every time it happened. It feels like I'm a kid again, watching my parents go back and forth, staying together 'for us kids', when it's pretty clear that divorce would just be better for all of us."

Helena by now had released her face. She had a blank expression as she stared at you.

"I'm sorry," she finally said.

You couldn't muster much energy, so you shrugged and collapsed on the little sofa. "I don't care anymore," you muttered. "I just want water. I want to sleep."

Helena ran to your side. She knelt at your feet, quite literally on her hands and knees for you. She braced her hands on your thighs. "How can I make it up to you?"

You stared down at her, unsure of what to say.

"I cannot lose you," she said next. "There wouldn't be a reason to have such safehouses like this if I lost you."

"I cannot handle these fights anymore. It's too much."

"What can I do?"

"I just want to sleep," you sighed. "I'd rather just...listen to the television."

Helena led you to the bed, straightening out the mess you'd made when you'd trampled out of it. You shimmied out of your pants, throwing them out so you could sleep comfortably.

"Please just talk to me," Helena begged as she laid behind you. She wrapped her arms around you tenderly, your back pressed against her chest. "I'm just tired, Helena," you sighed as you let your eyes fall shut.

Helena dragged her hand up the stomach of your shirt, her calloused palm tucking close against your belly.

"I'm tired," you whispered.

Her fingers slipped beneath the band of your underwear. Her palm cupped your warmth, her lips pressing soothing kisses behind your ear.

She did not tease that night. She swept two finger tips into the opening of your hot, twitchy cunt, swiping drops of arousal and then spreading it around your clit. The lubricant beneath her fingertips made the sensation slippery and slick. You slowly gasped at the feeling. The sensation got you to slip out of your body for a split second, as if you could see the scene playing out in front of you. Your hips were grinding fast and hard into Helena's hand.

You snatched her wrist and pushed her hand down. "Inside," you snapped. "If you're really sorry, then inside."

"As you wish," Helena murmured. Her three fingers pushed up and in, stretching the velvety walls of your cunt out. You wanted to scream. Her fingers curled and reached up at the spongey spot way inside of you, like the brightest star in all the galaxy.

"Shit!" you cried. You lurched your head back, your hair scrunching up into Helena's face and nose. She didn't seem to care as she slowly pumped in and out, always making sure to press up at your starpoint.

"Never again," you cried as you gripped at Helena's forearm. You used this as an anchor point to keep you grounded while you wiggled your hips into Helena's hand. "You're never again going to treat me this way. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dove, yes," Helena assured you in a soothing voice. "You're such a good bird for me," she sighed, her cool breath tickling your ear. "And you deserve good things. You deserve to cum all over my hand."

Yes, an internal voice shrieked within you. You thought another version of yourself would punch through your chest and take over, take over everything.

Your entire existence rolled up into nothing but pure light as you felt your high coming on quickly. You knew you were cumming, and Helena did too, for she used her other hand to simultaneously stimulate your clit.

The pressure released, like a balloon snapping in your belly.

You were breathing heavily as you sank into Helena's arms. You hadn't realized how tense you'd been until all of your muscles relaxed.

"I'm sorry, Dove," Helena murmured into your ear. She held you tight and close. Her natural perfume, a blend of rosewater and fresh flowers, flooded your senses. With your energy dwindling after such an exertion, you didn't have the strength to argue or complain. You laid there, silently accepting her apology. No longer were you distracted by the wanton desires for orgasm and relief. And in the same way, you were no longer consumed with bitter anger.

"Do you promise we're going to be alright?" you asked, voice cracking and hoarse.

Helena kissed your neck.

"I do."

#just so we're clear i have no idea who the villains of this story are #whomstever broke into your mansion is anonymous #there will be no part two #i have no more creativitiy #i spelled that wrong #i dont care #helena bertinelli x reader #helena bertinelli imagine #helena bertinelli imagein #birds of prey x reader #birds of prey imagine #dceu x reader #dceu imagine #dc x reader #dc imagine #starfirette writes

[maxwell-grant]

Can you write about the Shadow's disfigurement ? I read that originally he was supposed to have a bandaged injured face like Darkman but that changed later

(Fan-art by Ryan Thompson)

It's a great signifier of what kind of character The Shadow is and how interesting of a figure he is in that, even a detail as innocuous as just his face has a whole sprawling history of intrigue and contradictions to talk about, not even getting into the specific features of his like the eyes and the nose, just the face. It's really great how I never run out of stuff to talk about with this character.

The true nature of The Shadow's face is an interesting oddity from the early stories that was never resolved in them, and several stories later took for a spin. It was one of the bits of information about The Shadow that Gibson reserved for rare and critical occasions, but it never really had a resolution and seemed to have been ignored when it was time to reveal Kent Allard.

Thing is, though, it was never really officially retconned, and it wasn't something you could ignore, it played a crucial role in some stories. And Gibson wasn't at all the kind of author who forgets plot points, he was fond of keeping notes and occasionally referencing his own continuity, which makes it all the more odd that a detail as important as The Shadow's real face was just not brought up again past a certain point. So here's the story of The Shadow's "real" face:

In the very first story, when Gibson was still testing the waters of what the character was going to be, he included a passage that teases a backstory for the character, as a former aviator who was scarred in the war.

"I seen The Shadow..." said Spotter eagerly. "I looked for his face. I saw nothing but a piece of white that looked like a bandage. Maybe The Shadow ain't got no face to speak of. Looked like the bandage hid somethin' in back. There was a young guy once who the crooks was afraid of -- he was a famous spy in the War, and they say he was wounded over in France -- wounded in the face. I think The Shadow is this guy come back." - The Living Shadow

In many of the following novels, even past the point where Gibson would more or less drop the idea all together, The Shadow's face is repeteadly described as "mask-like", usually when he's Cranston, something that both refers to the fact that he's masking himself as Lamont Cranston as well as Cranston's general impassive character. Throughout the character's entire run, Gibson never drops the idea of The Shadow's face being mask-like.

Cranston's eyes were almost smiling, even though his lips weren't - Dictator of Crime

The Shadow's methods of disguise are vague, but usually described as him using make-up putty on his face, using wire contraptions or wire masks, or thin sheets that he drapes over his features, and etc, it usually changes depending on the story or is all of these at once. The idea that The Shadow's true face had some kind of bigger secret was brought back a couple of stories later, when a villain unmasks The Shadow for the first time.

An arm came from the curtain. It reached forward and plucked the black hat from The Shadow's head. A low sound of amazement came from the curtain when the face of The Shadow was revealed.

"The secret of The Shadow," came the monotonous voice. "At last it is understood! The man of many faces - with no face of his own!" - The Black Master

The events of this story were brought up later in a story called Green Eyes, and four months after Green Eyes, we got The Shadow's Shadow, a novel whose resolution incorporated The Shadow's face in the finale.

Zubian's snarl became a cry of triumph as he saw The Shadow roll upon the floor. The slouch hat was carried away by the bullet. The head of the Shadow lay obscured beneath the folds of his cloak.

Zubian was aiming to fire further shots, to make sure of the Shadow's death; but he never accomplished that final purpose. An arm swept upward from the floor. Behind it came those glowing eyes; but it was not the eyes that stopped Felix Zubian. He was staring into the face of The Shadow -- not the disguised features of Lamont Cranston or Henry Arnaud -- but the visage of The Shadow himself!

What Zubian saw there; what expression on The Shadow's countenance made even that fiendish villain gasp in horror; no one could ever know. For Felix Zubian knew his last moment of life in that fateful instant. His trembling finger faltered on the trigger of his gun. The Shadow's unfailing hand did not yield - The Shadow's Shadow

And then, a year after this story, we got The Black Falcon, which has the most overt usage of The Shadow's "horror" face as it's once again the secret tool that allows The Shadow to gain victory over the villain

"If you are not Cranston," he demanded. "Who are you?"

"You shall learn." The Shadow's tone was ominous. "It will be your deserved warning. For those who have seen the true face of The Shadow have never lived to recite their discovery."

The man's face was ashen. A whispered laugh came from The Shadow's lips.

Only The Shadow knew why the sight of his dread face had brought terror to this evil fiend who never before to-night had known fear.

The face of The Shadow! The face that was never seen except when disguised to represent some other countenance. Roland Ransdale had met The Shadow face to face. The Black Falcon, he who had terrorized the law, had lost all nerve when he had viewed the true visage of The Shadow!

Only brilliant eyes remained in view. Burning eyes that surveyed the gasping shape of a man who had once thought himself invincible. As the fierce crook caught the burn of The Shadow's eyes, that sight, he knew, had been his sentence of doom. His nerve had passed with that revelation."

Stooping above the body of The Black Falcon, The Shadow hovered like a monster of the night..." - The Black Falcon

The last time we'd get a mention of The Shadow's face undisguised came from The Python. After he gets attacked and falls on a river, he's rescued by a couple of fishermen, and the narration states that the Cranston make-up had been blown off.

Squarely in the center of the rowboat lay a form attired in black trousers and a bedraggled white shirt.

Most of The Shadow's make−up had survived; but his features were no longer a close resemblance of Lamont Cranston's. He was still disguised; but only in a fashion. A grotesque hollowness had come upon his hawklike countenance. To Tanker and Pete, however, The Shadow was no more than a chance swimmer exhausted in the river - The Python

For the most part, any and all references to The Shadow's face from that point onwards would only be about how he alters it when he disguises, a process that's vaguely alluded to and usually implies him using make-up or wire frames to mold his face. In The Man From Shanghai, he even switches from Henry Arnaud to Lamont Cranston in the span of a single cab ride, and apparently keeps the Cranston face underneath the Arnaud one.

Deft fingers, pressing against cheeks and lips, were molding the countenance as one might work with clay - Chain of Death

Opening the briefcase, he produced a make-up box. Surveying his countenance in a mirror, he laughed softly and began to remold his masklike features. His visage changed beneath the pressure of his finger tips - Cyro

So far, the things we'd learned about The Shadow's real face by this point were: whatever is in there is horrifying enough to terrify and even traumatize hardened criminals (even after The Black Falcon gets some nerve back, he still can't bring himself to look at The Shadow without shaking, and it ultimately kills him in a gunfight).

The first story stated it was wounded in the war, and word got out about said injury to the point even an American gangster in the 30s knows about it. However, this fact was never brought up again, and it doesn't seem like a debilitating injury, as his face is malleable to the point of being compared to clay, and he doesn't seem traumatized or upset about it, even laughing at those who see it (which raises the possibility that it wasn't a war injury at all and that's just the story that got out).

It's said to be like "a piece of white that looks like a bandage", and later it was described as something that doesn't even really constitute a face. The only parts of The Shadow's face that are consistent are his burning eyes and his hawklike visage and both of these are malleable, and the most of his facial features we ever get to see for ourselves are described as having a "grotesque hollowness" to it, which is a delightfully horrifying adjective to apply to a face.

7 years after The Living Shadow, we got The Shadow Unmasks, which established that The Shadow's real, undisguised face was that of aviator Kent Allard. There were no further mentions of there being a "horror face" in further stories. You'd think this would be it, but if you've followed me long enough, you should know by now that there is no such thing as an "end" to weird mysteries when it comes to The Shadow.

In some stories following this one, his abilities of disguise would acquire some strange aspects. He'd be able to disguise himself by actively contorting his face along with the make-up.

Steadily, carefully, he bulged the contour of his forehead; squared his jaw; added a putty−like substance to his cheeks. It required longer for The Shadow to shape his nose like Wadsford's. The Shadow faked a facial twitch that resembled Wadsford's manner. - The Radium Murders

His features squarer; more mobile. Only a slight contortion was required to give them hardness. Thus The Shadow posed as either a respectable pedestrian or a tough-faced thug, according to the places where his search has taken him. - Buried Evidence

In others, he wouldn't even need make-up at all to alter his face.

His slouch hat and his black robe slid away from him. The disguise was thrust into a hidden compartment with one swift gesture. The Shadow was now Lamont Cranston.

But a ripple passed over his mobile face. His mouth and features seemed to writhe. Without changing anything save the habitual expression of his face, Lamont Cranston also vanished.

In his place was a smiling stranger. A man whose mouth looked weak, whose expression seemed almost timid. Well−dressed, faultlessly groomed, he seemed like a harmless, good−natured citizen whose car had broken down on a lonely country road - The Crimson Phoenix

In Shadow Over Alcatraz, The Shadow is even able to even contort the rest of his body to squeeze himself through a seven-inch gap, which is physically impossible for a grown man to pass through without extreme injury

The window was about three feet high, two feet in width. It had two upright bars, dividing it into three spaces, each about seven inches across.

Thrusting one arm through the central sector, The Shadow turned his head sideways and poked it through. Bars grazed his ears; when he turned his head, they became a sort of collar. He was wedging outward, drawing his other shoulder.

Below, his hand gripped rock. The Shadow tugged. It was a tight squeeze for his body, but he seemed to elongate as he drew his chest in. His hips slid past. His tall form teetered outward.

Crime County even states that The Shadow had become adept at remodeling his face through touch alone, and I cannot find any lines in the story that mention he's using makeup.

He was remolding the features of Cranston when Sparrow looked up. It was a process that The Shadow could perform by touch alone, even in comparative darkness.

Cranston's face was not The Shadow's own; in itself it was a disguise. A spreading motion somewhat flattened the aristocratic profile; downward pressure added a bulldog effect to the jaw.

And as the magazine reached it's final stretch, we started to get mentions in story that alluded to The Shadow's "real" face, undisguised, being that of Lamont Cranston

If Jud had known that Cranston in his other life was The Shadow, he would have... A tug of The Shadow's hat brim and his own face, that of Cranston, was obscured - The White Skulls

The Shadow's eyes, yet strangely Cranston's, for this was one time The Shadow did not care to disguise them - The Whispering Eyes

Which only capped off the mystery of his real identity by bringing a loop around itself, as suddenly it seemed Kent Allard was Lamont Cranston who was Kent Allard who was The Shadow who was Lamont Cranston and so on.

So looking on it now, "disfigurement" isn't really accurate. It's how it's been utilized in some stories past the pulps, Michael Uslan's comic storylines in particular leaned more heavily into it as a war trauma for The Shadow and a dramatic backstory. I have mixed feelings on this and you could argue it's playing with some ugly and unnecessarily ableist tropes (like The Phantom of the Opera), but if you gotta give him a punchy superhero backstory, I definitely prefer that than what the movie went with. It works to emphasize a tragedy tothe character's background.

But "disfigurement" isn't really the right word for it, because we only got one mention, in the first story, that it was due to an injury, and it came from a third party who had only heard faint rumors about a guy who could have been The Shadow once. Being defined as someone who's sacrificed his identity to fight crime, it's easy to assume that The Shadow's face is horrible to look at because it was destroyed in the war which already took so much.

Maybe that's just what he'd like you to think. Maybe that's all you need to know.

Every other instance in the pulps where we got to peer into some secret of The Shadow's face, it was never played up as if it was an injury due to some dramatic past event, but rather as if it was some horrifying secret of his true self that we were only getting the barest glimpses of.

Something that's gotta be much grislier than just mangled features, if it gets hardened criminals to quake in abject fear. Something that somehow still allows him to distort his face far beyond what's humanly possible, with and without outside assistance. Something that allows his "real self" to be, at separate points in time, Kent Allard and Lamont Cranston.

Something that makes it so he can have many faces, and yet no true face of his own. The great secret of The Shadow, and one that's always going to have a different answer. One where he himself only has one thing to say about it

Those who have seen the true face of The Shadow have never lived to recite their discovery.

Y-You cannot frighten me, maniac! You are only a man!

Am I?

#replies tag #the shadow #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #the living shadow #green eyes #horror

[flowered-mp3]

2021 tumblr year end review game

tagged by @aglassofpinkchampagne (thanks love <3)

rules: post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released this year (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

i wrote alot so i’m adding a cut to spare your dash lmao:

top 5 works i’m most proud of:

relevé: i’m sure you all know that this series is my BABY. my actual baby. i think that i started it in april 2021 and i have one part left. i didn’t think that anyone would read it because the genre is kinda specific imo, but i’m so happy to see that others are enjoying it as well! someone (ie. myself lol) has to compensate for the lack of yugyeom series on this platform smfh

flower-(ed): another fic that’s my baby. i worked so, so hard on this one. it was one the hardest fics i’ve ever written because of the amount of detail i wanted to include, but it was so worth it. i still remember the sweetest, kindest dm about this fic was sent by someone that i’ve been following for forever. i was really stressed out at the time and that single message got me to open up a word doc and start writing again. sometimes, i reread parts of that fic and i’m like damn. i kinda snapped on this one ngl lmao

covert: now this one. THIS ONE. i absolutely fucking love. i think that maybe the inspiration (the gambler mv) is why it’s my favourite. writing it was also relatively painless, and i just love how it came out. kihyun stans rise <3

nerves: ok so this one was born from a clip that i saw. i just. love how cute it is. not my longest piece of work but i really enjoy how i wrote the setting of it... just a warm and fuzzy read. great job @ myself lmao

duty: oh my fucking god i love this one. i reread it last week and i need to edit it again because the flow is kinda strange and the word choices could be better BUT i still love it. especially the beginning. yeah.

top 4 current WIPs i’m excited to release this year: (only mentioning two because i literally only have two wips, so i’m going to mention fic ideas for the last two points)

vermillion: ok i am so excited to get the first part out. i am so, so excited. i love everything about the premise. the setting. the delicious cliche tropes. just a chef’s kiss overall. i’ve wanted to write something like this for so long. at the beginning i thought that would be too ambitious for a rookie writer like me BUT for the last couple of months i’ve just been like, fuck it, you know? 

dawn: a hyungwon bday drabble because capricorn solidarity. that’s it

i want to write a regency au so bad. maybe for hyungwon or kihyun. perhaps, a secret dating trope for that one but nothing is drafted lol

a drabble about shownu enlisting. i’ve been missing him so much that i want to write one, but i have nothing drafted up :(

i’m also gonna add the finale of relevé. can’t wait to get that out for u all.

my top 3 biggest improvements in my writing over the past year:

flow: god, my writing used to be so fucking choppy, dawg. i still want to go back and edit my older stuff. i compare it to my writing now (like. distraction to vermillion pt. 1) and the improvement is just honestly? staggering in just the span of 10 months lol. 

consistency in using tenses: for some reason, i had so much trouble with deciding the tense for my fics at the beginning. i now write primarily in present tense because my brain hurts when i switch too much.

not relying on dialogue for story progression: i felt like i used to think that dialogue was the most effective way to make a story progress but i think that i’ve learnt to rely on it much less. because of this, i’m much more comfortable in writing a series now.

my top 2 resolutions when it comes to my blog/writing:

increase my word repetoire: stop. using. the. same. damn. words. have. some. variety. tbh i’m thinking of getting a dictionary app to give me a word of the day to fix this habit of mine lmao

consistency: i think that you guys probably know this by now, but i can go months of not writing and posting, then suddenly i post like, 2 to 3 things within a short amount of time. yeah i want to be more consistent.

my favourite line i’ve written this year:

from flower-(ed) pt. 3 (hard to pick because i love this this scene so much): Akin to a sharp stab of a freshly sharpened knife, it hits him in the chest without any warning. He’s unable to bear the sight of you so upset when he can’t do anything. The sensation spreads through him, indiscriminate and without regard; the urge to protect you and to care for you and to have you in his arms; wholly consuming his heart to such a degree that he can’t help but lean in, capturing your lips for a kiss.

tagging: @prettywordsyouleft @bruh-changbin ​ <3

#tagged #moots

[les-mooserables]

Hello, John

[AS SOON AS HE BEGINS SPEAKING, A WHIZZING STATIC KICKS IN FROM THE BACKGROUND.]

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. (slightly strained) I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

[THE ARCHIVIST MAKES A PAINED COUPLE OF SOUNDS OUT-OF-STATEMENT-CHARACTER, AS IF HE’S TRYING TO TEAR HIMSELF AWAY FROM THE STATEMENT AND PHYSICALLY CANNOT.][WHEN HE PICKS THE STATEMENT BACK UP, THE WORDS SOUND LIKE THEY’RE BEING TORN FROM HIS LIPS.]ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

[A SLAP ON THE TABLE – OR A CRACK? SPOOKY.]

I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, John, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirke first gathered our little band – Lukas, Scott, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayner, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirke was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced Smirke to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years, for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all Smirke’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus.

You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.

But Gertrude was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, Gertrude’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinsons throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago.

Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.

The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, John. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.

Do you see where I’m going, John?

It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.

[THUNDERCLAPS.]

I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during Gertrude’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

[THUNDER CONTINUES AS HE GOES ON.]

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor Helen. I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

[SOMETHING CREAKS. ANOTHER LOUD SNAP/CRACKLE.]

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

Jurgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I… justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

Still. I’d requested Detective Tonner be assigned to the case when they found Gertrude’s body in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. Crew, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with Melanie and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something the Unknowing served to test, though it posed no actual danger in the grand scheme of things.

And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you – (sigh) – Knowing something you shouldn’t.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective Tonner has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. (cruel laugh) Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about Martin.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, John. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now. (cruel, cruel laugh) Repeat after me.

[WHEN THE ARCHIVIST BEGINS TO READ THE INCANTATION, A HEAVY, DENSE STATIC RETURNS AND BEGINS TO BUILD, ADDING IN HIGHER PITCHES AS IT DOES SO.]

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

#tma #hello jon #tramp stamps #imagine saying this to the tramp stamps

[bigskydreaming]

Hey friendly reminder that I honestly do not want anyone to follow me unless they actually WANT to which means they are free to unfollow, refollow, leave and come back and leave again or WHATEVER as many times as they want, for any reason whatsoever. Including if my posting styles of the moment get to be too much for them or are not to their liking, etc?

BUT I have been seeing a surge in comments in notes and stuff on various posts of mine about the length of my posts or the rambling of my posts and like....I know? This is not new information to me? But I post the way I post at any given time based on the resources I have at any given time and the fact that its often a matter of I can post a long rambling post or I can make no post at all.

Like, I really truly do not like going into specifics about my situation more than necessary or when not necessary, because like, my situation is boring to me, I don’t particularly care to dwell on it any more than I have to. But the fact of the matter is its still a thing that exists so here goes: yes I have physical issues like near constant migraines and pain and also vertigo, and yes I have neurodivergencies like C-PTSD and ADHD and yes I have circumstances that include near constant stress from eternally being in the negatives, financially, as well as being almost constantly hungry from a lack of money and limited options for eating due to the physical constraints of my jaw as well as being consistently sleep deprived because there’s only so much sleep you can get when there’s no such thing as a physically comfortable sleeping arrangement for you currently, all while existing in a constant limbo of I literally have NO idea when any of this will change for me because haha fun fact WE LIVE IN A PANDEMIC.

My point is like......all of these are things I’m not shy about, but they don’t exist as bullet points in a checklist of identity or circumstantial traits, they all exist at all times as points of fact that influence and inform and interact with each other.

So my financial situation and limbo of not being able to move forward with my surgery because of the chaos of the health care industry during a pandemic directly informs both the way stress impacts my mental health issues, but also my ability to treat my mental health issues by way of medication, nutrition, rest.....ie, almost every cent I make via work, etc, goes right back out the door to keeping up my insurance premiums of $850 a month, because even though my surgery is paid for, there’s still elements like hospital stay fees, anesthesia, etc, that won’t be paid until the day of surgery itself, and which I will not be able to pay without my insurance remaining current and active. Which means that I had to prioritize an insurance package that would net me THOSE benefits, which means I had to sacrifice parts of insurance that are no longer in that package, but which previously made things like my medications, refill appointments and therapy more affordable for me. 

Which means that I have to prioritize my medication and therapy etc and maintain my therapy and PTSD, depression and anxiety meds as the most important to upkeep, while my ADHD meds are pretty much priced out of accessibility for me at the moment. Like, the specifics of my metabolism and various trial and error with different meds over the years and the way my body rapidly adapts to various meds and plateaus to a point where they cease to have any real impact on me means the only ADHD medication that’s consistently effective for me is Vyvanse, which there isn’t a viable generic form of that I can take, meaning a monthly refill of it is $350 without insurance, which I flat out can not ever afford anymore, which means its been roughly two months since I last popped an ADHD pill.

So yeah, that directly impacts things like my ability to self-edit, make a point briefly, or refrain from circling back to the same point several times over and over because I literally forget that I made it.

Now of course ADHD medication is not the be-all and end-all and its not like there aren’t various other life-hacks and coping strategies for working around ADHD even without it, after all, I didn’t even get diagnosed until I was 26. But these various other adaptations rely on things like good nutrition (which I can not regularly afford, or even consume....most leafy green vegetables for example, or fruits other than berries, are literally nonstarters for me because I don’t have enough leverage with my one-sided jaw to CHEW them in the first place, and the ingredients for making smoothies regularly are again, expensive). So nutrition as a hack for ADHD management is pretty much out - I’m too busy prioritizing eating anything I can, whenever I can afford to. Other adaptations involve getting lots of rest: something that again, physically isn’t all that viable for me these days, even leaving aside the effects of constant stress on attempts at getting meaningful rest, along with the constant stress and constraints of trying to work as much as humanly possible in my circumstances, in order to keep bringing in income to go to insurance, rent, and food and meds. Then there’s also the stabilizing effects exercise and physical activity can have on the brain and various neurodivergencies like mine, but the migraines and vertigo make most forms of exercise a nonstarter for me, with most of the rest invalidated by the fact that I’m pretty much always hungry, tired, and in chronic pain.

Now let’s examine work and the viability of obtaining more sources of income to help with all this. Well, my options are limited there too due to the ecosystem of factors in play. I’ve been trying for awhile to find even a part time job in my area I can do, but the problems are even though I can make myself mobile and active through my pain issues and migraines, and am even good at gritting and bearing it and acting like I’m smiling and laughing and happy even while in excruciating pain (yay, perks of childhood abuse making a career in retail viable even while practically dead on my feet, lololol)......there’s the simple physiological limitation that I just can’t stay upright RELIABLY for more than a couple hours at a time. Eventually, dizziness knocks me on my ass. Downside of a jaw that’s constantly hanging with all its weight from one side of your face, fucking with your ability to even stand up straight, not to mention causing inner ear and equilibrium problems at random whenever you open or close your mouth in the wrong way (or mere approximation of ANY kind of way).

So, standing upright at any kind of customer service or retail job is one issue. Stocking stuff, that sort of thing.....not really an option when you’re likely to drop all of it at any given moment. But then there’s bracing myself at cash registers, something like a job at Starbucks or hell there’s a Jamba Juice nearby, that’d also get me an employee discount for smoothies I can drink regularly. Course, there’s the whirring of blenders and such, which pair great with constant migraines. Etc. Etc.

BUT. I’m a well-rounded person with lots of skills....which lead to things like my freelance graphic design business as a book cover designer, as well as various writing endeavors, etc. And all of these are things that I DO do, currently. They’re how I make my income as is. There’s absolutely more jobs out there, but the fact is as a freelancer, FINDING additional jobs is a time consuming and spoon consuming process, that is additionally impacted by factors like ADHD, so not only does looking for work require time that’s not already being spent working, it also requires the management and expenditure of mental resources that I have to prioritize FIRST towards applying them to what work I already DO have, given the absence of ADHD medication and minimal coping or regulatory habits allowing for me to be all that productive WITHOUT said meds.

Not to mention the strain sitting in front of a computer all day for work in venues like graphic design, etc, puts on migraines, so there’s only so many hours I can devote daily or in one sitting to doing things like cover work. Much of my writing time is spent not actually writing, but me just dictating into notes on my phone and then copying and pasting all that into the appropriate formats for fiction, nonfiction and just random posts. Of course here then I have to prioritize applying my mental resources to first making sure the stuff I write to make money gets edited or properly pared down to size and isn’t repeating the same shit over and over and over, then doing the same to stuff I write fic wise as one of my few escapes from Real Life BS so I can at least point to having SOME kind of life (as this has been my daily existence for years, and uh.....people having things they like or like to do, as much as is humanly feasible, only becomes MORE of a necessity the more stress involved in their day to day life, not less). 

Meaning by the time I even get to posting, like.....as much as it may look like I do a lot of it, the speed at which I write when I have any kinds of spoons to apply to posting or composing thoughts at ALL means I actually pour out a lot in a little span of time.....BUT that’s not like, a Skill so much as its a Fact. Its just the way I am and it comes with its downsides as well as its upsides....Im good at banging out a lot in a short amount of time, but ONLY when I just....let it go, versus try and regulate it all or squeeze it out bit by bit. I’m a sprint poster these days rather than a marathoner, even if the length of my thoughts makes it LOOK like the latter.....the reality is for me it tends to be all or nothing, its whatever I can get on the page BEFORE I lose my breath or train of thought. So that’s why it looks the way it does, because that was the only form it was coming out at the specific time and space when I had the energy and brainpower TO get it out, and going back in hindsight and editing it for clarity or brevity AFTER I gasp it all out requires energy and breath I do not have PAST that point, so it becomes a simple equation of well do I want a post to exist here at all or not at all.....and I err on the side of posting. This isn’t a defense because there’s nothing to defend, mind you, I’m simply explaining my way through my thought process, approach to things, and realities of my day to day existence for you to do with whatever you want. Its just a perspective you may not have had before. Whatever. 

Of course, even this doesn’t exist in a void. Something that’s always a factor in my awareness when posting is like......I’m lucky enough to have a large enough following that cares enough about what I have to say for whatever reasons or puts enough value in what I have to say or the things I write and create, that I’ve been able to supplement my financial needs when absolutely necessary at times, by way of donation posts. I try not to lean on them more than necessary because I am keenly aware that they are a gift from people, many of whom I do not know and will likely never meet, and as such, not something I have any form of expectation for. I make donation posts when and where I do not in the anticipation of getting them met, but simply for a lack of any other options whatsoever. I’m limited in the work I can do, and the time and energy I can devote to finding more of that same work. There’s not a ton of other career paths I can pursue even from behind a computer due to my lack of a college degree, and the fact that even when I’m qualified skill or knowledge wise, I lack the specific credentials for verifying that I possess those skills or knowledge in a way employers are inclined to recognize and/or validate. Going BACK to school to get said credentials is an expenditure of time, finances, and other resources I do not have to spare at the moment or any time soon, especially not in the name of shoring up a lack of all that in the present term. 

I dropped out of college freshman year after my gaybashing and rape. I never went back to it for a variety of reasons that were only half about resources and half about intent. My family is not a presence in my life and hasn’t really been in any significant way since I was eighteen, so college in the first place was something I had to be entirely self-sufficient about....I was only able to afford to go the year that I did go by way of academic scholarships that were dependent on grades I couldn’t keep up in the wake of what happened to me, and that I couldn’t exactly ever get back without a foundation to build upon, like high school and my initial academic career. Then in the half that was about intent, I eventually moved into pursuing my actual interests like writing, graphic design and acting. One of the things I’ve always loved about those is that output and portfolio nets you more than credentials most of the time....they ARE your credentials. I was actually pretty damn successful as an actor for years, not in the way that leads to being someone that people would recognize, but in the way that leads to being able to support yourself doing what you love. All the skillsets that I have but could not back up with things like a diploma were still useful to me as an actor in a way that they’re not in terms of getting things like tutoring or teaching jobs.....I speak multiple languages but I’m self taught, I have a black belt in karate, I’m a classically trained pianist, I know a whole lot of shit about random shit that I just learned because I wanted to, and all of that got me the kind of work that I was looking for and meant I COULD work and make a living off those things for years throughout my twenty....work that I would not have been able to get if I had been back sitting in a classroom instead. The primary currency of my years as an actor were life experiences and I had those in spades, and I was very good at what I did, if I do say so myself, and the reasons I never advanced further career wise tended to have less to do with whether or not I booked the roles I auditioned for and whether I got the auditions at all......

I’m getting a bit off topic here but I’m just saying there’s definitely a convo to be had at some point, about the roles and opportunities I turned down because I wasn’t willing to sleep with someone or put up with their advancements in order to do so. Something that’s a dime a dozen in Hollywood and the thing is.....I was a sex worker, for years, before I moved to Hollywood and started working as an actor. But there’s a distinct difference between the way people talk about, interact with and perceive someone who’s gotten roles because of sex, advanced up a corporate ladder because of sex...versus, gotten paid because of sex. I didn’t turn down offers of roles for sex because of my hang-ups about sex but rather other peoples’......I had a problem with various parts of the industry that would have thought nothing about me getting a role because a producer wanted to sleep with me, but would have turned up their nose at me because I slept with someone to get money for groceries before. Basically I’m just saying the specific bullshit Hollywood has not just about sex but predatory behavior got in the way of my career advancement because there were some games I just wasn’t willing to play....which hails from the very life experiences that oftentimes made me so good as an actor in the first place.

Which brings me back again to my main point......none of this exists in a vaccuum. Being the sum of our life experiences and variables means being the SUM of that, at ALL times, both in large and small ways. We are never just a LIST of identity traits or experiences. They all constantly loop back around and feed into each other and inform where we are at every second of every day and where we GO in each second, what we DO with our days and the choices we make.

Which is where so much of my discontent with fandoms, on social media in general, with PEOPLE in my day to day life comes from: this desire people have to compartmentalize, to ZERO IN on specific factors or variables or instances and act like it even CAN be divorced from all other influences. Its not that you can’t FOCUS on one thing at a time, its just even when you do that, that doesn’t like....snap all existing connections that thing has to everything outside of your area of focus.

As an example, my attitudes on being a survivor and various kinds of fiction get me a ton of pushback from various corners, and its all geared around the same premise: don’t like, don’t read. Put a wall up between you and it. Focus on just what you’re doing and forget what everyone else is doing.

But it doesn’t work like that. It CAN’T work like that. And this commitment people have to pretending it does just because that pretense has been working for them, THAT, I’d argue, is the true wedge in fandom spaces.

Everything about me is connected to something else. I’m a childhood abuse and incest csa survivor. When my therapist asks me to picture a moment from my childhood when I felt safe or protected, I got nothing. I don’t have that resource. I don’t know what that feeling is meant to feel like, because I never felt it. And that connects directly into the fact that when I was gaybashed in college, after they dumped me in a fucking park, bleeding and covered in writing, I didn’t even think about going to the hospital, the police, let alone calling anyone like my parents, I just picked myself up and walked back to my dorm, cleaned myself off as best I could, and went to class next Monday morning. That’s fucked up, I shouldn’t have had to, but its what I did, and there’s no divorcing that from any of the contexts of WHY that’s what I did, and why I didn’t think there was any other logical recourse or option for me then. Just like all of that also links back to growing up in the closet and entering high school the same month Matthew Shepherd was attacked, and then when he ultimately died two months later, and watching everybody’s reactions to that informed the fact that I did not remotely feel safe in the aftermath of my attack, disclosing what happened to people around me, or just like I didn’t take it on face value that even if they said appropriately sensitive things to me to my face didn’t mean that like when I was a freshman in high school and everyone was reacting to that, they wouldn’t revert to callous jokes about fags the second they felt a little less out of the spotlight or in the right company for those jokes. 

And all of that directly links into my feelings not just when people write rape and gaybashing scenes that make no attempt at any kind of catharsis but rather only appear to exist for the fetishization, the glamorization, the VALIDATION of the idea that in the right context, those kinds of scenes can be hot to the right audience rather than demoralizing to the figure who’s pain and humaniliation is required for everyone else’s entertainment....but it also additionally plays into the reactions and attitudes I have when people look at me going “wow, really don’t like the lens you’re using here or the environment you’re creating around an experience that is never anything BUT painful and traumatic for someone who lived it, like I did” and choose to respond to that by saying things that amount to “well you’re basically just like conservative southern assholes who hate free speech when you say stuff like this,” cuz y’know.....that’s describing my literal oppressors. That’s lumping me in with the actual literal kind of people who are the SOURCE of my trauma there, all because you felt butthurt and defensive about how I said I wasn’t comfortable with the kinds of jokes and output you were making about scenes that aren’t that far divorced from my own personal reality, and that I shouldn’t HAVE to divorce from my own experiences just to exist within certain fandom spaces.

And just like the fact that being an incest survivor is directly relevant to the fact that my stepmother always made an effort to keep me at a distance because not wanting to admit to what happened to me and how it played into our family entanglements was directly linked back to the fact that she and my aunt were both incest survivors who never got the opportunities to deal with what happened to them, which in turn directly plays into the fact that ultimately my aunt ended up taking her own life a few years ago, which also very much informs my attitude towards people interacting with incest ships as something cutesy and uwu, as my aunt was literally the only person in my family I ever WAS close to or comfortable with. And there’s no divorcing any of that into nice neat little compartments that make it easier for anyone on the outside looking in to just peek through ONE window to see what they might see, and try and act like it doesn’t matter what’s in any of those other boxes because it has nothing to do with the only one they want to concern themselves with.

And my lack of resources and emotional state post gay-bashing led directly into my sex work for various reasons, which led in various ways to better things for me in some respects, while compounding certain traumas of mine in other respects, and there’s no divorcing any of that from the rest either. There’s no ‘my time as a sex worker was good’ even though some of it was and there’s no ‘my time as a sex worker was bad’ even though some of it really was. And a lot of the attitudes of some of the rich assholes who paid me for sex and viewed me as a plaything they could do anything to directly informs my resistance to letting powerful assholes in Hollywood hold roles over my head in exchange for sex, even though the latter could have advanced my career in huge ways and led to me being a lot more financially stable and self-sufficient by the time my physical issues emerged due to the jaw joint on one side of my head eroding through and snapping completely just like that in turn was a long-building repercussion of not just my gaybashing, but my decision to never go to the hospital and get checked out after it.

None of this can be cut away from the rest and trimmed into neat little pieces that don’t color outside the lines or impact anything else. Just like my gaybashing itself can’t be divorced from my white privilege, and the fact that it played into the fact that I survived that night in the first place. Something I say not in some weird white guilt kinda way like people try and project onto others for even acknowledging white privilege, like no its not like I fucking wish I died to prove some kind of weird point, what I’m talking about is just the simple basic AWARENESS that multiple and even contradictory factors exist in even the most extreme of situations. And its never anything BUT self-serving to pretend that you can frame it as otherwise.

And so when I talk about being a survivor, just like with all the rest of this, I’m not talking about some arbitrary status of survivorhood that exists in a specific point in time and is only relevant to some singular event I survived, its applicable to everything about my life big and small. I’m a survivor every single day I’ve survived, every day I wake up and keep moving forward despite the pain and stress and lingering trauma of what was done to me one night sixteen years ago, I’m surviving what they did every bit as much as I survived it that night and in the morning after as I dragged myself back to my room. Just like my status as an abuse survivor stemming from childhood directly informs everything about not just my coping mechanisms but my entire freaking worldview as someone who grew up throughout childhood learning to view the world through a lens in which he was simultaneously not safe due to the presence of victimizers in his own home, while at the same time still having certain protections that others don’t have in life in general due to not just again my white privilege but my male privilege, my cis privilege.

And that’s what makes it so laughable and so offensive when people act like I’m defining myself by being a survivor as some kind of singular identity trait whenever I raise it as something of relevance in fandom discussions that have EVERYTHING to do with stances of abuse apologism and homophobic ideas that directly play into why I was so unsafe in certain parts and times of my life, because who the fuck is anyone else to tell me how my experiences as a survivor and how they shaped me are or are not relevant to ideas pertaining to those very things, when brought front and center and face to face with me in various fandoms due to the insistence of fandoms at large on KEEPING these things front and center in almost ALL fandom discussions? Like, the hilarious irony of people who have so wholly centered certain types of ship and content in terms of their own personal fandom identities that they can’t help but feel personally attacked when someone so much as says “I don’t like the ideas you’re broadcasting alongside your choice to amplify and signal boost this kind of content because you’re not JUST signalboosting the content itself, but these specific perceptions of it and ideas in support of and in apology for it.”....like, turning around and saying IM too defined by my views stemming from my existence as a survivor. The call is coming from inside the house, lolol.

Again, none of this can be divorced from the rest. It can be focused on one piece at a time, but its connections to everything else that informs it in various RELEVANT ways, can not be made IRRELEVANT just because you don’t like the picture that forms when you’re forced to look at the WHOLE picture instead of just willfully condensing the frame to just the part you like or want to talk about.

And to bring it all home, looping back up to what I opened with:

Do you know how often I hear people say shit about the length of my posts or the rambling nature or in various ways act INCONVENIENCED by various things about how they have to interact with my posts when that interaction itself is still completely voluntary?

Taking in everything I said in this post, the way it all interconnects and informs other things, I’d like to ask anyone who has ever objected to some post somewhere or derided one because of something as ultimately nonconsequential as the length of it, something where its literally just like....scroll a few more seconds......do you apply the same energy and scrutiny to posts that cross your dash that are filled with various things like racism, transphobia, rape or pedophilia fetishization or abuse apologism, or do you let that slide by without acknowledgment before looking at a post that makes you sigh because of how fucking LONG it was and think...this, THIS is what I’m gonna choose to speak up about?

Because that’s ultimately what this is all about. Here’s the kicker with everything I said....my life could be better, I want it to be better, from the biggest aspects of it and pain issues to stuff just like.....the fandom communities I immerse myself in for my own attempts at having something to counterbalance real life stress. But at the end of the day, there’s no my life sucks or my life rocks....its still just...my life. And it has its good as well as its bad, and that ultimately hails from my choices, and the fact that like....even while there are choices I literally CAN’T make, I can be comfortable with the ones I DO make.

And so like......would my life be easier in some respects now if I’d gone back to school and gotten a diploma and had more job opportunities available to me? Yeah, for sure. But that awareness doesn’t mean I regret my choice NOT to go back to school when I DID have more opportunities for that, because the acting career I had at those times instead was the choice I made, with intent, and its one I’m still glad for making. Those experiences still matter, still meant something and still mean something to me. 

And do I wish that I’d coped with what happened to me in college in different, healthier ways that would have given me more tools for how I interact with my trauma and who I became after that, rather than how I did? Yeah, sometimes, for sure. But not without losing my awareness that the choices I did make at the time were not made in a vacuum, and can not be edited in hindsight....there were reasons I made them, reasons that were informed by everything that had happened to me previously and stemmed from a lot of things I still didn’t have control over and as such always placed a cap on the range of choices that were available to me back then, because there’s a difference between choices that exist in theory versus choices that exist as something that might viably be chosen at a particular place and time.

The world is big and complicated. Life is big and complicated. WE are big and complicated. And nothing about understanding any of that is IMO benefited by putting most of our effort into SHRINKING our worldviews, constructing artificial frames that don’t just focus us in on specific aspects of it for finite periods but attempt to then treat that as its own individual thing utterly disconnected from anything else that might be going on OUTSIDE that picture frame.

So if you’ve read this far and you’ve taken anything away from this big long rambling post that could be a lot shorter, could be a lot less rambling, but could also just not have been posted at all and I’d rather have it exist in this form than let everything in it go unsaid.....

My request would be that your takeaway be this: to look at your choices in regards to some specific finite interaction in even just one of your fandoms, and see what happens when you open the frame back up. If you widen the scope. If you let other things into the picture. Are you still comfortable with the choices you make or don’t make in light of THAT image, are they any different from the ones you made or would have made when keeping things as small and contained in your awareness as possible, just because that was easier for you to conceptualize, easier to navigate around, just....less COMPLICATED?

Because things aren’t made less complicated just by the mere fact of WANTING them to be.

And if your choices are more born of what you’d say or do IF the world were as finite or as limited as its sometimes easier to pretend it is......is that really the approach you want to go with and the reasoning you want to stand by?

And similarly, if there are choices you make and that in ORDER for you to feel comfortable making them, you feel a need to tighten your focus or shrink your worldview around one specific element or area and leave out all the rest and only then are you truly comfortable with doing or saying something, like......

Its important to remember that this isn’t the only option you have for making yourself more comfortable with things you say or do or think, or even just have in the past.

The other perfectly viable option exists: you can simply....make different choices.

#this is a post #im not entirely sure how else to describe it #just that it is not necessarily the post that it looks like beneath the cut that it looks like above the cut #so all I've got is: this has been a post #make of it what you will #lololol #its....whatever #ANYWHO

[corpsentry]

behind the taylor swift gundam was in fact another, smaller gundam: a brief inquiry into the events of june 2020

so back in june this year june and i got together and we made this motherfucker of a story with this motherfucker of a thread to keep track of it all. but you already know that! and i’ve already got one foot and three elbows in my grave, so i’ll spare you the long-winded stuff. you wanna know how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks? i’ll tell you how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks-

-by linking you guys to copies of my planning documents because i feel like those words speak louder than any words i can offer in the present day. these are long documents. but they are also historical artifacts. very interesting. very weird. very, uh, full of cussing. so anyway, here’s

BIG DADDY: THE ORIGINAL PLANNING DOCUMENT

for those, like me, who have no motivation left in life to do anything and rely on summaries from others to acquire new knowledge, it all started with a single line.

prince of a fallen kingdom atsumu tries to kill hinata but falls in love with him instead

june, april something, 2020

with that in mind i tested the concept out with a few paragraphs of text, which you can find at the bottom of the Big Daddy document in the graveyard segment, accidentally sold my soul to the image of hinata with epaulettes, and then worked backwards, structuring an entire plot around two images:

a) hinata getting the shit beat out of him, with snark b) hinata and atsumu dancing in an empty ballroom under the stars

if you want a betrayal, you have to have something worth losing. if you want to fall in love with someone you don’t know, you have to meet them. if you have to meet them, there has to be a reason for that meeting, and so somewhere in between atsumu became a sword instructor and hinata the prince with daddy issues. june and i used this method of glancing anxiously over your shoulder to see what you’d missed to fill out the blanks in the story, after which i tacked up a bunch of post-its, typed out the plot, consulted june, typed out the plot again, and then broke the characters down into a bunch of questions, like ‘what do they want?’ and ‘what do they have?’ and ‘what are they afraid of?’

with the plot more or less ironed out, i decided it was time to start writing, and then i decided that i was actually too scared to start writing after all, so instead i set a couple of timers using classroomtimers.com (15-20 minutes long) and i sat down and i wrote about the world that hinata and atsumu inhabited.

each warm-up was 300-500 words long, and for the first few days, i’d write one before getting into writing the story proper. later these evolved into simply picking a scene from the story and launching straight into it, which became useful for opening those scenes later when i got to them organically.

then i got lazy! so i stopped. but these shitty little exercises were really useful for me because, unfettered by plot, convention, or any kind of tradition hovering over my shoulder, i was able to fuck around loosely enough to realize what i wanted this story to be. it was a very contrived kind of trial-and-error, an exploration of the characters, the story, but most importantly, the tone.

RESEARCH, PLANNING, AND VICTORIAN BOUGIE FASHION

this is a loose map of the castle and Important Locations within it, which i drew up at the start so i could keep track of where everything was and how i could get my characters from point A to point B. i wanted the story to have Some kind of internal logic, you know, even if that logic amounted to ‘a compass would function normally in this world whereas kageyama tobio would not’.

99% of my planning and organizing within those five weeks took place in this lovely dotted cat journal which my sister gave me for my birthday and i repurposed into a metaphorical Diary of Suffering while working on juno. i used it for everything from keeping track of narrative threads to clothing consistency checks, but the main purpose was this: each day at about 10 pm i’d crack open the cat book to a fresh page, stamp the date and the day of suffering at the top, and then write down a list of things i wanted to write, address, or fix today. then i’d sit at my laptop and write like a madman until about 7 in the morning. with breaks, of course, for sitting in the bathroom and staring at the wall and sitting in the kitchen and staring at the wall, but mostly i was writing. and complaining about writing. you were there, you probably remember that.

anyway, here are some pages from the cat book.

aside from the fact that my handwriting is complete shit, you can see that i made zero effort for any of this to be presentable. it was mainly a way for me to keep track of my thoughts because i have the attention span of an ikea wardrobe and tend to forget things as soon as i think of them. the lack of structure also mirrored the way that i went about writing juno. while i did proceed, for the most part, in chronological order, i had a lot of weird and useless revelations during lunch, which by this point was happening around 2 am, and in the 5 minutes before the exhaustion finally hit and carried me down to hell. i changed A Lot. again, to understand exactly how much the story evolved from day one onwards, please consult the big daddy document.

in the meantime, here’s something else.

once june sent over hinata and atsumu’s character designs i sat down like the fucking fool i am and spent 2 hours poring over a document about victorian and other fashion movements of the past so i could assign a noun, adjective, and verb to each element of their outfits. i don’t know why i did this. i certainly could have not, but i attempted to make sense of their ‘fits from a logistical perspective and that went into the cat book too. everything went into the cat book. the cat book is a relic of the past now, stuffed with artifacts such as the birth of oikawa tooru, and also his demise.

MEDIUM DADDY: EDITING, PROOFREADING, AND CREEPY MURDER CATS

i finished writing on june 26th, 2020, approximately a month after i’d first started planning, somewhere around may 27th or 28th. at that point i had about 90,000 words’ worth of story and no sanity left whatsoever, so i took a day-long break to stare at a wall and listen to taylor swift’s enchanted on loop.

and then i made a new document, which you can look at using the link above, and i laid out everything i had to do. i’d discovered a fuck ton of plot inconsistencies and general errors while writing and lying awake in bed at 9 a.m., sleepless in seattle, and now that i was free of the demon egging me towards the first finish line, it was time to Deal with them. i speed-scrolled through the draft, which was 200+ pages compressed into one google doc, because i like to tempt god’s wrath, and fixed up all the plot issues over the course of a few days. this was the fun part.

the actual, hard editing was the extremely un-fun part. i reread the entire thing, paragraph by paragraph, line by damn line, from start to finish, paying especially close attention to awkward phrasing, incomplete dialogue, and moments which had fallen flat in my haste to get on to the next one. this was really fucking terrible. i spent more time lying facedown on the floor than actually editing anything, but after a long time (about a week), that, too was done.

SMALL DADDY: TITLES, SUMMARIES, AND GOOD FUCKING BYES

i spent a good eighty days thinking about the title, though hilariously enough we ended up with something that was a blend of our names. june + elmo = juno, which is, all things considered, pretty perfect, but the process of picking the title was Hell, and i Did Not Come Up With The Title until about 2 hours before posting. you can take a look at the haphazard clusterfuck of my title-selecting process in small daddy, which is linked above.

so the title was a last-minute choice. so was the summary. and the chapter divisions. and actually all the songs in the playlist for juno. the day we dropped juno onto planet earth like a newborn baby pitched out of the sky, i spent an hour hunched over my laptop, cutting my 213 page google doc into chapters based on nothing more than a Vibe. two days before that, i also attempted to voice-act the entirety of juno, an affair which ended at the 20,000 word mark with a sore throat and the kind of exhaustion one typically wants to sleep in a coffin for 23 years to get rid of. so in all honesty, i did very little editing, which is why there are definitely minor typos and/or mistakes hanging out somewhere on that chunky ao3 webpage. but whatever.

my attitude by july 5th (was it july 5th? or 4th? somewhere around there) was basically whatever. anything so i could get finish this damn thing, chuck it out of the window, and never see another google doc until the next century. i’ve been asked a few times how exactly i wrote at a rate of roughly 2000-3000 words per day for four weeks straight, and my answer has always been this: i died. what died, you ask? my soul. my spirit. my Will To Live. i’m a creature of fixations, and juno was my fixation for june. will i ever be able to do this again? would i recommend this experience to anyone? is god real? the answer to all of the above is probably no. juno was a fever dream, and so is my cat book. and so are all the lattes i had. and so was my 9 am to 4 pm sleep schedule.

but what we made is real. the research, oikawa tooru, the 4 am conversations in which i was like ‘how the fuck do i end this’ and june was like ‘jade proposal’ (the proposal was her idea. all rise for twitter user atsuhinas. she is the mastermind behind all of the Inch Resting moments in this story; i just flapped a korok leaf in her direction and made sure the air circulation was working properly) are real as fuck, and looking back, there’s a lot i’d change, but i’m lazy. and college is starting. and anyway, i did write 93,035 words in just under five weeks, four if you don’t count the week of Editing Hell, so i think that’s pretty cool.

thank you for reading this to the end, and for following us on our journey through the enigmatic taylor swift gundam fic which quite literally consumed my entire twitter account for the five weeks i spent working on it. retrospectively speaking i really was butt-obsessed so i am frankly incredibly impressed with everyone around me for putting up with a Husk of a Man for a month. thank you for doing that. thank you for indulging my vague tweeting, and our butterfly dns, and for reading 93 thousand words of gay fanfiction set in a high fantasy world with epaulettes and galettes. on behalf of june, once again, we are incredibly grateful for all your support.

if you have any questions about specific aspects of the writing process, or anything you’d like to know in general with reference to JUNO, feel free to drop me an ask through my tumblr inbox, or through my curiouscat over here. i’m aware i didn’t cover everything, but there’s frankly too much to put in a tumblr post without passing away somewhere around the 56% mark, so let me know what’s on your mind, and i’ll try to answer that to the best of my abilities. but anyway, before i go, here are some

TAKEAWAYS

one: don’t try to write 93,000 words in five weeks. seriously don’t fucking do it you will end up jittery and sleep-deprived and you will leave all your friends on read for a month. pace yourself. set realistic goals. you wrote 2k this week? that’s fantastic. you wrote 4k in a day? you absolute motherfucker. i hope you’re taking a long fucking break tomorrow. your story will not run away from you, but if you run too fast, you will get tired, and then you will pass away.

two: you don’t have to know everything about your story before you start writing. in fact if you have a single camera shot of two characters holding hands under a rose garden awning, i think that’s fucking wonderful. if you look at big daddy, you’ll realize that my initial plot draft, and all the ones following that, are not perfectly aligned with the final version of juno. i improvised over half of the scenes in this motherfucker, and to be completely honest, some of the improvised scenes were the best. fucking oikawa tooru was improvised out of nowhere. he only got written in way later, around chapter 8 or something, because i realized i needed a plot device and a source of information to keep the playing table from toppling over. i Sat Down one day and was like ‘okay, it’s time to write oikawa into the introduction. because he matters now. he didn’t matter last week but now he does, and soon he’s going to be the fulcrum of the entire story, because it’s like that with oikawa tooru’. it’s okay to change your mind halfway. it’s okay to go back and rewrite entire scenes or segments. it’s okay to highlight 4 pages of fresh, sentimental writing, and hit delete. writing is a fluid process, and you Will make discoveries as you progress through your story alongside your characters. be understanding of that iterative process. be kind to yourself.

three: You Are That Motherfucker. you, me, your dog, your dog’s friend, your dog’s enemy, all of us are that motherfucker. i never thought i’d be able to write anything longer than the great big map, which was a much simpler, linear story in which the other main character did not appear in the current timeline until like the eighth chapter. juno was different. juno was the motherfucker, and i was scared shitless of it, and to cope with that fear joked constantly while writing that it’d never see the light of day.

but it did. it was a rocky process, and i was awake for 48 hours after posting it because of the sheer adrenalin stuck in my skull, but i got through it. and i wouldn’t have been able to do it without june, who stepped in when i flopped over facedown on the floor and dragged me to my feet like the badass friend she is, and without everyone else in my life, who put up with me talking about The Thing that i couldn’t really talk about, but juno’s up there now. forever, or until the internet collapses and civilization goes extinct. and if the nineteen year old clown with the attention span of an ikea armchair and an a level certificate from hell wrote the 93,000 word long thing, so can you. i mean this completely unironically and with every ounce of genuine emotion i can summon from the cracked asshole of my heart.

writing is hard. writing is scary. writing is an investigation of the world around you and therefore, by extension, yourself, and that kind of honesty is freaky. it’s like going skinny-dipping next to the president’s mansion. who’s going to see you? what if they take a photo? what if you lose your spot at university?

but don’t think about that. our world is overrun with stories the way cereal bowls are full of cereal, but it’s those stories that keep us all sane in the disgusting day-to-day muck of reality, so think about your story. what’s haunting you today? what message do you want to leave printed in font size 666 comic sans across the southern hemisphere of the planet? what will you be tomorrow?

a writer. you’re going to be a motherfucking writer.

#my stuff

[ikilledamoth]

'How I thought my boyfriend was dead for three years straight.'

Hi.

So this post might be incoherent, a mess and also also might not be of interest to anyone but I want to write it down and let it out.

I am not a good writer so the timeline might be a mess especially since its been years after some events and my memory tends to fail me.

I'll try to document as much information as I can here but there might be gaps. The post might also be quite long.

Before I start, trigger warnings for:

depression, suicide mention, drug and alcohol abuse mention, abusive family mention.

1: Introduction to Past.

I used to be here on a different account however, I've lost access to it. (old email, no longer remember it, it's been years after all and I never thought I'll use this app again.)

My boyfriend's name on here was @slightly-depressed-niko-boy. Do excuse the content there as it's rather depressive, having been written in a quite bad period of time for him.

Niko is neurodivergent and at the time of using this app (2017) pretty mentally ill, and been in a rather abusive household for his whole life. His parents are physically and mentally abusive. They have always been extremely manipulative and controlled his life to the point where... Well... He had basically no autonomy. They were in control of his social media at many points, controlled his devices, forced him to stay at home at most times and cherrypicked who he was and was not allowed to speak to and hang out with. Whilst doing all that, they still managed to trick most people into thinking that they were a rather picture perfect family. Pretty nasty people.

As you may notice, I'm writing in a present tense.

2: Last Events.

In 2017, I was lead to believe that Niko died.

It was all almost too masterfully planned, really. I had no reason to believe that it was fake. I was at the scene when things happened, as well and had no reason to deny the claims made by Niko's family, combined with what I saw.

To anyone that I lead astray and made believe that Niko was gone: I am truly, truly and genuinely sorry.

I would never try to lie to anyone about something like this. I knew how much he meant to his friends and I would never try to hurt them by confirming he was gone. I believed that it was true and I was devastated at the time myself. I felt my whole world falling apart, I did. I had no reason to think that it might not be true.

I have never had any malicious intentions.

Niko had to go inpatient due to what I was informed was an OD. And what I was told was a su¡c¡d€ attempt. Later, I was informed by his parents it was a successful one.

At the time, I felt devastated. I was not thinking clearly, being too hurt to be rational. I did not notice all the red flags and the sketchy manner in which Niko's parents behaved. I did not realise that they might have had ulterior motives. I was dealing with grief, having lost a friend of many years and someone that I truly loved.

Given that it all happened about four years ago, I do not remember much details. I tried recalling things but due to the traumatic nature of those events, I was left grasping at the little bits that I can still remember. I can't remember many details, or who I spoke to at the time. In fact, couple of years ago I managed to forget about all of that, somewhat. To a degree.

I could never forget my boyfriend and years I've spent with him, of course, but with all happening in life, I managed to move on enough that details of those traumatic days turned into a blur.

However, that changed in September 2020. Three years after the events.

3: Introduction to Present.

At that point, I have moved out of my old house and no longer associated myself with the area where Niko and I used to live.

As I would like to keep some privacy, I'm not going to mention details of locations and institutions where I went, etc, however I will mention that I went to a university in a completely new town.

I did not know many people here, besides those that I met online during freshers events and whatnot. It was a fresh start, in a way.

In many ways, I am no longer the same person I was in 2017, and I'd like to ask people that knew me back then to try not to fully associate me with whoever I was back then. I'd like to also apologise if I've ever done anything that could have been of harm to anyone for I was just a kid, thinking that the world's a bit of a playground. I'd like to ask people to give me a chance to introduce myself properly as me, and not that person from the past, who functioned as nothing else but a romantic partner of someone online.

But I digress.

4: First Encounter.

Weeks past, and I began to meet new people, explore new areas, visit new places. One of friends from my course added me to a groupchat where we could get to know each other all a bit better. The group consisted of way too many people, so I wasn't the most active there, however it was a bit of a mix of different people. Not limited to my course, or even, as I'd soon find out uni.

And that's when I saw a familiar name that caught my attention.

You know, there are plenty of people sharing names and surnames. The world is so big after all. I didn't think much of it at first, because well... After all, Niko I knew was long gone.

Not.

Curiosity spiked, I started talking, wanting to double check if that person I saw in the groupchat was really a stranger.

I did a bit of digging and given it's almost five in the morning as I'm writing it, I'm not going to go into much detail, just yet. (might edit this post later, I just want to post it as soon as I can)

It's not that difficult in the digital age, really. Everything is kind of... Out here for you to take in.

That's when I found out, my boyfriend never died.

5: The Lies.

I know all of this sounds crazy, but I need you to listen. In a span of few weeks, I realised that past years of my life were a lie. That my grief was unnecessary. That my pain was created because someone tried to intimidate and scare me and anyone that Niko was ever close to.

At first, I felt cheated. I felt like my best friend faked his own death, but he did not. He did not, and I need people to know that he did nothing wrong, and in fact, after all these years needs more help than ever.

I want to reach out to people that were friends with him, ever spoke to him briefly. And also reach out to those who knew nothing about him and tell you : Niko is alive, but he is not safe and sound. And I am all alone in this mess, and I need some help. I need support from people that knew him. I need support from people that might care. Because I can't do it alone.

That's what the current situation looks like:

Niko's parents forcibly put him inpatient for longer than necessary to make his friends believe he was dead. They took his electronics and made him lose access to his old accounts by getting rid of his old phone number. They cut him off from the outside world. They threatened to hurt him and used intimidation tactics to make him cooperate and turn him into a doll in all of this.

I was told they put down his cat as a punishment for unknown reasons and after months of his hospitalisation, moved towns for again, unknown reasons. Niko was then homeschooled due to his, apparently, unwell mental state. He had no access to the outside world. No more social media, school friends, nothing. He was cut off in the world that made everyone else think he was dead. And they succeeded. Even I firmly believed that Niko was gone. And I feel deeply ashamed to admit it. I feel like I failed him and many of his friends by not investigating further, however I was still a kid at the time and there wasn't much I could do. I didn't think the situation was as messed up as it was.

After years of being under almost a complete supervision and a suicide watch even, Niko continues to be controlled by his parents, despite being an adult that deserves autonomy. I can explain the situation further in messages.

Even though I managed to speak to him again, after all these years of thinking he was gone, every time he seemed like there was someone listening, watching over his shoulder.

6: The Present.

I am currently formulating a plan to free Niko from the abuse that he is experiencing with his family. I need to get money to do so, therefore it's nothing I can do instantly, however I've been reaching out to various foundations to see what can be done. My current plan is to find a way to transport Niko out of his house into a temporary accommodation where he can stay away from his parents, ideally with someone who can help him stay safe. I need money for that, though, as accommodations, even emergency ones can be quite pricy if you're not on benefits.

As its very late right now, I'm ending this post right here. However I will edit and update it when I can and I just want to let it out into the world. Sorry for keeping it so long. If you read so far-thank you.

[skrltwtch]

Sleep Talk

Prompt: Persons A and B are cuddling on the couch together watching a movie late at night. Person B (who tends to sleep talk) falls asleep, and A doesn’t notice. B begins saying progressively weirder stuff until they finally mutter “I love you.” A internally freaks out and grabs B’s hand, then says, “I love you, too.” Person B wakes up confused and terrified because it was the first time they ever said “I love you” to each other. (Source of prompt in link at bottom of post.)

Word count: 2,026 words

Author's note: Spoilers for Wonder Woman. I also didn't quite follow the prompt to a T.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

‘It’s movie night!’ I said in a sing-song voice upon entering the living room, fresh out of the shower and in my best jammies, a set cut from cat-printed periwinkle blue cloth. George, sadly, wasn’t wearing his matching set. Shame; I’d packed this set with the intention of us spending this iteration of a three-year-old tradition in couple jammies. That’d have been such a sight — and the Instagram story.

‘The best night of the week — which also happens to be Friday night,’ he said, grinning. He patted the space next to him. ‘Saved you a seat. Best one in the house.’

‘Thank you, my darling.’ I put down the bowl of popcorn mixed with funfetti and chocolate, a recipe I nicked off the Internet, and bottle of Coke, and joined him on the couch, its real estate reduced to fit us both as snugly as bugs in a rug by all the pillows he’d added to the living room’s already hefty count. His idea of home improvement made it difficult for me to ever want to leave this couch and live life off of it. Could I put in a request to work from home like this next week? Senior management were strong advocates of ‘flexible arrangements’ and ‘work-life balance’ after all, and none were more deserving of the latter after the week’s events than I.

‘What are you in the mood for?’

‘What are you in the mood for? It’s your turn this week to choose,’ he said.

‘I was being democratic.’

‘For once, you can pretend my opinion doesn’t matter.’

‘“For once”?’

‘Oi.’ He sank deeper into his seat.

The corners of my mouth ached from chortling a little too much at his expense. I almost choked, actually, to which he said under his breath, ‘Karma’, his face gleaming with smug glee. Fair enough.

I reached for the remote and also handed him the popcorn to keep his mouth busy while I picked our poison; I knew, too, that what he’d said about his opinion not mattering this time had to be a bluff. George? Not having an opinion about movies? The next Pope being Buddhist was far likelier. I counted myself fortunate that we had similar tastes.

So, what was I feeling this week? Last week was Ingrid Goes West, which reinforced his decision to stay the fuck away from social media and reinforced my crush on Elizabeth Olsen. It was one of the unspoken rules to not repeat genres to keep things interesting. If there were no such rule, I’d have watched the entirety of Netflix’s sci-fi thrillers, and he its dark comedies, twice over. I navigated to the superhero movies section. I wanted something loud, light, and that wasn’t too long because of the late start.

The cursor found itself on Wonder Woman. Excellent: it was familiar — this would be our second time watching; we had no compunctions about re-watching stuff on movie night, as long as it was within ‘reason’ (whatever that meant — for instance, watching Thor: Ragnarok five times was perfectly acceptable to me) — and didn’t require a tremendous amount of cerebral effort to follow. It was what the doctor ordered for capping off a long, pretty shitty week. I needed the reminder that it was possible, and worthwhile, to find hope in and remain optimistic about such a bleak, ugly world. Besides, what was more cathartic than watching a superheroine, the world’s first, doing her thing in a movie that was, for the most part, also tastefully done? I didn’t want to enter the weekend continuing feeling like shit, so I hit play without further ado.

‘Hey, don’t finish that,’ I said to George, who’d been popping fistfuls of kernels and chocolates into his mouth like there wasn’t a finite supply.

‘You were taking so long to decide.’

‘I’ve decided!’ I gestured at the Warner Bros logo that flashed on-screen.

‘I’m hungry.’ His pout signalled the being of a sulk. ‘We don’t usually start this late …’

I put down the remote and curled up next to him. Our arms made their way onto each other’s bodies: mine across his abdomen, and his over my shoulder. He took my hand and lay a soft kiss on my fingers before setting it back down on his lower stomach, where he preferred it belonged. Fine by me. I burrowed deeper into his side. His scent, fresh and a little sweet from all the candy he’d taken, provided warm solace, as always.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been made to stay late.’

His fingertips skimmed the curve of my jawline. ‘It’s okay. I was kidding. I know your manager’s a prick with no respect for other people’s time,’ he said. A finger landed on my lip; it tasted faintly of vanilla. ‘Now, shh. Movie’s started.’

For something we’d watched before, Wonder Woman continued to hold our attention. Neither of us succumbed to the temptation of checking our phones nor started conversing with each other about our day, whether the Internet would implode if Chris Pine were to ever join the Marvel Cinematic Universe, weekend plans, whatever. None of that was verboten on movie night. Our attention spans weren’t perfect, and we’d never pretend they were; and some movies, like it or not, were better enjoyed as background noise in the comfort of one’s home. Sometimes we could accomplish so much on movie nights.

‘How’d you think I’d look in that?’ George piped up during the famous No Man’s Land sequence.

‘In what?’

‘Her outfit.’

‘That’s something you could consider for next Halloween.’

He grunted.

‘I’d love to see it.’

‘I want cheese. Cheese in bread. Cheese on bread. Pizza?’

‘You can’t be that hungry.’ I patted his stomach. It emitted a loud, watery rumble.

‘’m puckish.’

‘“Peckish”?’

‘That’s what I said.’ His speech had a slurred quality to it.

‘There’s still popcorn left.’

‘Not chicken wings.’ How’d wings come into the picture? ‘Or Sprite.’

‘Gross, Sprite.’

Despite his and his stomach’s grievances, he didn’t take the popcorn or Coke, or get up to order whatever it was that he wanted. I wasn’t about to surrender the position into which I’d worked myself. Likewise, I was genuinely into Wonder Woman (I attributed that to the fatigue I felt toward all things Marvel after Endgame and my excitement for Wonder Woman 1984) to consider taking any interruptions in my stride. His stomach did stop its fussing after a while.

‘Are my Neopets dead? Is there a Neopets Heaven?’

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how to. Because he didn’t need to know I was still on Neopets and could therefore tell him with full confidence that no, Neopets wouldn’t starve to death, and no, the concepts of death and Heaven didn’t, and would never, exist on the site because its staff continued to delude themselves about the average age of their current userbase. Look, I put in too much work on my account, which I’d had since the site’s inception, to simply let it rot in the site’s current state of virtual limbo. Actually, maybe I should come clean and reintroduce him to the site … it was getting a little lonely for little ol’ me in Neopia.

‘What do you think happens to Tamagotchi when they die?’

Okay, what the fuck.

I peeled my gaze off of Gal Gadot — a herculean task — and looked up at him. Oh, God. He really was the old man he proclaimed himself to be. I let him sleep. He, too, had had a rough week at work, and I needed him at his best for what we had planned for the weekend … which, for now, was nothing. I was planning for the both of us to work on it when Wonder Woman entered standard blockbuster fare territory! Once again, work had thrown a monkey wrench into the fine-tuned machinery that constituted our countdown to the weekend: sending texts about weekend plans to each other during office hours and bringing them to fruition once our asses found themselves out the door at six o’clock and not a second later. This was called making efficient use of our time at work. Our managers should be so proud.

George’s sleep talking soon eclipsed Wonder Woman in terms of entertainment value. Frankly, Wonder Woman lost its lustre in its third act, where the filmmakers attempted to convince the audience that Remus Lupin and the fearsome Greek god of war were one and the same. That moustache? In what universe —? The nerve of Patty Jenkins, expecting me to extend my suspension of disbelief to such lengths.

Tonight’s highlights included:

‘Fucking parrots, always stealing my hot dogs in the park.’

‘I am not eating that banana without a fork.’

‘Look, that dog is wearing a tea cosy on its head.’ (I really would’ve loved to see this.)

‘Dad’s going to regret not letting mom pursue that degree in apartment science.’

When I couldn’t resist and asked him what apartment science was: ‘You know, when an apartment and science love each other very much …’

‘Government’s come out and made sex on bicycles illegal. That is a goddamn shame.’

‘Pudding’s never hurt anyone. Not physically, not emotionally.’

I was … a little fascinated, honestly. His episodes, as moderate as their occurrences were, tended to consist of brief, simple sentences and max out at four or five. Did I need to be concerned? Or was work taking a heavier toll on him than he’d let on? That was it: our weekend was going to revolve around relaxation. The beach! Massages! Studio Ghibli on Netflix! Spending the entirety of either day in bed was a need, a must; I wouldn’t care to hear otherwise.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you, George.’ I rested my head on his chest and interlaced my fingers with his.

The realisation of what the words that’d left our lips, been said in our voices, and hung in the air above our heads, begging, screaming, to be acknowledged, were drove me to undo what I did and pause the movie. Why did that sound so … natural? Why was I even questioning this? Our relationship — what we had — wasn’t invalid because those words hadn’t been said — until now, where ‘now’ happened to be borne of a sleep talking episode. Love didn’t have an on-off switch. The things we did together, the things we did for each other, the things we did to each other, said volumes louder about what we were than those three words.

Still, it felt fucking magical.

George stirred next to me. ‘Has it ended?’

‘No.’

He snuffled. ‘Did I fall asleep?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Shit. Did you stop because I —’

How was that sentence supposed to have ended? Because he talked in his sleep? Because of what he said? Do you know what you said, and did you mean it? I wanted to ask. His recollection of what he said while unconscious was a crapshoot; at least it wasn’t convenient whenever it might suit him — like now, perhaps. And I did. I meant what I said. Come on, Y/N. Don’t sweep this under the rug. Don’t play it off as a joke. Do it. Ask him. We were adults, whether or not we liked it. I couldn’t have the weekend start on a note like this.

He pressed me closer to him. His lips brushed the top of my head. ‘I’m an idiot for not saying it sooner — or more often, and when I’m awake,’ he said. ‘I love you. I love you. I love you. It sounds divine.’

Heat danced across my cheeks. ‘It does, doesn’t it?’ Our palms touched. ‘I love you,’ I said softly. ‘I love you, George MacKay.’

I resumed the movie, both better able and more unable to focus on it now. There wasn’t much left to it. Chris Pine had long left the picture, as my interest would’ve, too, notwithstanding what’d transpired.

‘What else did I say?’

‘You wanted to know if your Neopets are dead.’

‘Oh. Well, are they? Can you help me check?’

‘Why are you asking me?’

‘I know you still play.’

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic #mine

[theyoungkleinwriter]

Writing Blind #17: Redemption

Warning: features spoilers for Avatar The Last Airbender

So this week I finished playing Red Dead redemption 2 for the fifth time and at the end I got to think; why is it that redemption arc’s have such a significant impact in the world of storytelling. For example the redemption of prince Zuko from Avatar is one of the best narrative arc’s for that show and it helped to construct a more complex narrative that informed younger viewers of good and evil without explicitly stating it. And that is only one aspect of redemption that is useful as it does provide a crux to explore ideas of morality and the nature of people as good or bad. It’s just fantastic.

Now when constructing a redemption arc you have to be mindful of a couple of simple rules that I have devised. The first is that you need to have it be believable and for the redemption to come from the character actively making some sort of effort to change. The second is that there has to be a limit to how far you want to go, they can’t be so evil that they’re irredeemable and they can’t turn around completely and become an utter paragon of virtue, essentially they need to keep it within their character. Now these two rules I find incredibly useful when it comes to redeeming a character and they’re so simple to follow it should be easy not to mess it up.

Now I find that a characters redemption moves through three different stages with these being the inciting incident/catalyst, the change and finally the result. Don't worry I'm going to go into these in more detail. By exploring this we should be able to see the ways in which a good redemption arc should be constructed.

Inciting incident/catalyst

The part that kicks it all off. Now some people see this moment as something that they can easily throw away however it’s very important to get this right as the trajectory of the change depends on this. Now it ranges from being some small incident or some large scale change and as such it affects the change itself. This also depends on the degree of villainy that the person is involved in as depending on what they did and how long they were a villain will affect what it actually takes to turn them back to the side of good. Sometimes it can be a small thing or it can be a large event. A classic example is being shown mercy by the hero or the revelation that another villain did something that the character didn't agree with. No matter what, it should be judged accordingly and it does vary between characters. But I find the best way to do this is over the course of the story have there being several moments where the characters faith in their villainy is shaken so when they finally do start their journey to the other side it’s way more believable as the readers can then see there is a more natural progression to the change. Like with Zuko there were many smaller developments that ultimately led to his final change, although that was also part of the journey.

The change

The most crucial part of the development of a characters redemption arc, at this stage its important that you take care and pay attention to all the details of the persons change. Now this will depend on how you choose to start your redemption arc but the thing that matters the most is that it is consistent with the character. If they have a fiery temperament then perhaps they actively try to resist the process or refuse to admit to themselves and others that they are changing. One that I have personally never seen but I think could paly out to be interesting in the quite character whose change could be shown over time through small acts of silent contemplative kindness that signify a steady development. No matter what you have to make sure it is in keep with the character. Moreover you have to decide on the method of this change and if it is going to be from external factors such as a group of friends or from an internal journey of self discovery for example a quest or pilgrimage. No matter what the key thing is how does the character relate to whatever is helping develop their particular change. One more key aspect of the change period is the timing, answering the basic question of how long the redemption must last? In some cases it spans an entire book series and in others is last the huge space of a mere three minutes. Again it really depends on the character and how invested the audience is in their redemption. If they care then make it last awhile but if they don't then have it be a short lived three minutes.

The result

Now typically writers often look at the redeemed character and decide that the best way for the to end their redemption is the classic redemption through death. Now I can see why this is appealing as often the death is a sacrifice and nothing screams redemption like giving your life for the other side. I think part of the reason writers do this is because the redemption of the character is what made them interesting and once that process is complete they become far less interesting. Still there are ways for the arc to end without death. Sometimes the redemption will be around the end of the story and thus you don't have to deal with the aftermath. A clever writer could even use the end of the redemption arc as the starting point for further character development which can help to craft more interesting characters. Interestingly the end of the arc is not the end of the character and you can have a lot of fun at this point by playing with the dynamic between them and the other characters. I mean just imagine the tension between them and the villain, depending on how close they were you could really use that for some stellar storytelling. The key to a good character is their relationships, not only to other characters but also to the reader, by the end of the redemption arc not only do you want to redeem the character but you also want your readers to be invested in their redemption. Otherwise what’s the point?

In the end a redemption arc is a great narrative device that can be used to make a character more interesting and even explore some of the nuances of good and evil. In YA novels this is very important to have as well written explorations of morality can help to get across a message better than simply telling a person the difference between right and wrong. But two more important things to remember is 1. ask if some people can be redeemed and 2. ask yourself if a person should be redeemed. Not everybody can be redeemed or even really should be, in some cases a person is just too far gone to have any sort of redemption and you know what? That’s okay. Some characters are better as villains after all. The only time I could think it could work is if the angle you’re going for is that anyone can be redeemed. But then that would be no fun. After all if Megatron suddenly started to try and redeem all his thousands of years of evil then suddenly Transformers would be way less interesting. What I think is that redemption is great for a story but in the end you need to see if it better to leave a character the same way. Plus there is one last interesting thing you could try. What if, at the end of the arc the character decides that they simply can’t or won’t change - perhaps that could also make for an interesting character.

This has been TheYoungKlein and I’m writing blind.

#writing #writers #writing advice #writing blog #redemption #story arc

[drwhamrccola]

02-01-2021

I’m having the worst of times right now. I feel terrible all the time. I’m always tired. My family and I constantly butt heads, and now I’m falling out with my online friends as well. Feels like I can’t have anything.

I feel like my parents favor my younger sister over me because she’s smaller and younger. This could be excused if she were a baby. She is not. She will be eighteen this summer, and I will be twenty-one next week. I am having to study from home now because of the virus, and the uptick in necessary chores for living at home is awful, especially because of the inequality between me and my sister. For example, when it’s her day to clean the kitchen, she will pitch fits about me not washing every dish I dirty, even though cleaning the dishes is the job of the person who has the kitchen that day. Mother will make me do it, citing that I should always clean up after myself. On my days to clean, Chloe will leave massive messes out from her baking projects and just from daily use. Now, mother will say that it doesn’t matter who dirtied these dishes. What matters is that we’re a family, and sometimes we have to buckle down and clean up after one another. 

Another example, from back before the virus, when I was going to community college, was that when I was in marching band and I went away to competitions, my parents would remind me that I would need to spend my Sunday back catching up on the chores I missed on my trip. When Chloe started leaving, they would tell me that it was my responsibility to make sure her chores were all done in a timely fashion since she wasn’t here to do them. Bringing this up only earns eyerolls, and I am never taken seriously. My sister herself acknowledges that this is true. She gets the easier of all situations because she’s the baby of the family, even though she’s about to be an adult. However, she won’t go to bat for me with this, because she enjoys the privilege of the favoritism, and she tells me that I should just stick it out until I can go back to school later this year. 

My dad is a whole other story. He used to abuse me physically, switched gears into emotionally and mentally, and now, though my interactions with him have lessened in quantity, he is either neutral or mean, but not quite abusive anymore. Becoming an adult who understood that how he treated me was illegal really gave me a leg up. But I still hate him. He is racist. He is misogynistic. He is homophobic. He is transphobic. And best of all, he is a liar. Saying that he is a liberal, voting Democrat, saying that he hates all the bad things and loves all the good things. In the same breath, though, gay men are disgusting and lesbian women are hot. Transgender folk are mutilating themselves with mental illness as an excuse to become abominations. Jewish people are naturally greedy, and black people are naturally more harsh and savage-like. My friends are all in different states of disposition with him. Some never want to meet him. Some want to meet him to see if it’s all true (which makes no sense, as I’ve explained that part of why he never got in trouble for treating us so badly is because he’s so outwardly charismatic that nobody ever believes it). Some are literally banned by their parents from being in my house while he is in it.

My issues with my friends are complicated. I Co-DM a D&D campaign with somebody. After playing since September of 2020, one of our players has attended about 10% of total sessions, despite contributing to the scheduling process and swearing he’ll be there. When he finally started being more consistent a week ago, the dynamic was so strange. The stakes of the adventure had changed so drastically over time, plus nobody had a relationship with his character, though technically he’d been with them the whole time. A few people mentioned to us that it was odd pretending to be his close friend when they didn’t have that connection, so we decided to ask him to create a new character, still at level, but fresh so the party could get to know him without it having a strange tone to it.

My Co-DM decided to take the reigns on asking him. It seemed to go fine. He appeared to be receptive to the reasoning and compliant. Then he changed his name in our Discord server to just a period. Doesn’t bode well. Then his girlfriend, the one I’m personally close with, left almost all of our mutual servers. We asked if something was wrong. Radio silence. Over the span of a week, they slowly withdrew their presence from all of our shared spaces. They even kicked only us out of their art server. It was pretty clear what was happening. Ghosting.

I hated that they were doing something like that to us, and I decided to just rip off the bandaid and get it over with. I messaged them for the last time that I was sorry something had come between us, wished them luck in the future, and blocked them both. A mutual friend who also thought I was being ghosted decided to get the truth of the situation, and she succeeded. Apparently they intended on coming back, they just needed space from us because they thought we were very disrespectful and we guilt-tripped the boyfriend. The vibes with all of my friends are weird now. Even though everyone agrees that I had every right to think I was being ghosted, some people think that I should chalk it up to a simple misunderstanding at get ready to make peace. Others think that the couple owes me an apology for refusing to communicate to me what was happening. The most extreme opinion I’ve heard is that they did this on purpose to trigger my RSD. 

We talked about our mental issues, as friends online do, and I brought up that I had really bad RSD as a symptom of my ADHD. I told everyone, “If you guys decide you hate me or something and try to make a big thing out of it, you won’t get the opportunity. I don’t negotiate with that kind of thing, because I will  become sad for days and get sick.” We didn’t really take it seriously because we didn’t expect this to happen. But a close friend says the couple decided to make it look like they were ghosting me to trigger my RSD, forcing me to feel guilty for how I treated them. I don’t personally think that’s true. I sure hope it isn’t. But the group isn’t going to be mended anytime soon. The couple left so many servers, most of which are owned by people who shun them for their actions. One of them I’m almost certain won’t let them back in again. 

Speaking of my RSD, this did trigger it, so if that’s what they were going for then they succeeded. I couldn’t concentrate on my schoolwork at all because of it, even though I really tried to. I had the work in front of me, I was technically trudging through, but I absorbed nothing and rarely got correct answers. So I am now missing three homework assignments. My birthday is in a week and I’m afraid I’m going to be too sad to care about it. Worse still, I made a lemon cake today to lift my spirits. Making it was fun, but I could only taste bitter despite the sugar in it. As well, I couldn’t taste my lunch as well as I thought I should. So, maybe throw some COVID into the mix.

I’m taking a break from discord to get away from all the drama that’s come about from D&D. So in the meantime I’m going to keep venting here. Away from everybody else.

#personal #blog post #depression #rejection sensitive dysphoria #abuse #favoritism

[parrrty-poison]

ok so very long post. (not that it matters as i talk to the void askgdjjeh)

let's be real. who's the only two people i really think about when i’m seriously thinking about death? my sisters. my mom too, but mostly my sisters. and ok yeah, maybe what my mom would be like to my sisters if she was dealing with me being gone but that’s a whole other can of worms. in the end it’s always about my sisters. and i truly genuinely believe one of them hates me deep down and doesn’t really care about me, which, fair. i guess you don’t get over the people who were shitty to you in your developing years? except i got over her being shitty right back to me but whatever. i’m the oldest. it’s never been about me. and i think they probably feel like it’s always been all about me because i was so problematic back in the day, which was mostly because of my mom and what we came to find out was literally just my genes so there’s not much else i could have done. that doesn’t make me blame myself any less tho.

it doesn’t matter now. the point is, i pissed off my sisters more than i made them like me i think, and then we started living in different countries and it’s never been the same since then. i know i’m the odd one out in the family now. my parents say they don’t talk to me because they assume i’m always busy with school, which i am, but if they actually tried to talk to me i would find the time. i have way more time now. the problem is after all this time i have absolutely no idea how to reach out to anyone. they only care about me doing well in school anyway. which i do somehow, no matter how fucked up shit gets or how much shit i’m on to get through it. that’s my one real talent. so whenever i talk to them i only tell them what they want to hear and with my dad we’re already constantly dealing with enough other shit with the government by trying to keep me in school and in the country despite this country’s best efforts to get rid of me. so how could i ever bring up my feelings on top of that?? i’m always worried about our family’s financial situation no matter what and i am tired of being a burden because i wasn’t supposed to be anymore, i only am because of the government. so despite my best efforts i keep giving my parents enough to worry about. 

and then my sisters. like i said, i’ve been the odd one out for a long time now and i have no idea how to come back from that. i know they’re literally always facetiming, which is the only way i get to talk to my little sister cause carla was here and apparently they can’t go a single day without talking to each other so while she was staying with me i got to hang out with both of them. it kept me sane for a bit there. even if i knew it wasn’t for me. 90% of the time i have no idea wtf they’re talking about and every time i ask them and they try to explain they just dismiss it and say it’s some tik tok shit or something. and yeah ok i refuse to get one cause honestly, social media is toxic af and i have enough shit to worry about already so i don’t have the mental energy for it. and honestly i don’t have the attention span for tik tok. but yeah, i know me living under a metaphoric rock doesn’t help but i’m trying to keep myself somewhat sane. but that means i have nothing to talk about with my sisters. 

when carla was here she literally barely interacted with me cause she’s on her phone all.the.fucking.time. to the point where i know it’s straight up rude but i didn’t wanna say anything cause i know she’d just say i sounded like my mom. and i know most of the time she was just texting my other sister and honestly? it hurts ok? maricel was like 11 when i last lived with her and i was 18 so we had nothing in common and now i missed all these fucking years of being around her while she grew up. and somehow she’s still nicer to me than carla. maybe cause i didn’t get the chance to be as much of a shitty sister to her back in the day due to the age difference. she definitely didn’t get the worst of my horribly mentally ill unmedicated self. look, the facts add up ok? i’m not an idiot. i can see why things happen but i have absolutely no fucking idea how to change them.

and in the end what i have is this. somehow, despite my best efforts, which were actually pretty damn good despite everything, i am here again. i mean, my first semester of grad school, all the insane shit that happened in the span of less than 3 months really, that would have broken me back in the day. 2020 may have been a horrible year for everybody but personally, 2019 was a straight-up personal attack. and i made it through. without anyone knowing about any major breakdowns (I guess except for Tom and Borna) and with semi-decent grades. everyone in the program agreed that my first semester was one for the books in the worst possible way.

but i made it to 2020. and then 2020 happened. and i learned what being stuck in a 5x5 room for almost a month does to a person, aside from everything else. and i remember telling my therapist i hoped one of the things we would all learn from the pandemic was how long-term solitary confinement has never been an okay way of punishment. cause that’s the last time i felt truly seriously suicidal and literally had to physically fight myself not to do it. and it slowly got better.

but here we are again. and it’s not the same, not at all. it’s just it’s fucking winter and every winter i struggle to make it through like clockwork. in fact, i thought this time i’d be okay cause i made it all the way to late november just fine, which is unheard of. but i did. and then it all came crashing down like a fucking landslide. and god, i tried to stay on my feet for as long as i could, i really did. but when that wave hit it hit hard. it fucking knocked me to my knees. and for as long as i could i hid behing people, i clinged to them like a fucking lifeline even if i knew they’d rather be somewhere else. i got my sister to stay with me because i knew she hated being with my dad more. it was a win-win cause i couldn’t leave her there, i know how much she hates that place cause i hate it too. she didn’t pay attention to me almost the whole time she was here and i only had so much money to take her out places, seeing as i’m not being paid for work anymore. but as long as she was here i wasn’t allowed to be an alcoholic mess or kill myself. as soon as she left i went back to that. 

And then Tom died. i don’t even know how to deal with this still. it only happened last week. but i don’t know how to tell people i need them. and i really do need them. but no one’s coming of their own volition and i never learned how to ask for help cause the couple times i did my mom told me to stop being crazy so i never asked again. and yeah. i’m 24 and i still haven’t fully managed to get past that but since then people have consistently proved to me that asking for help is a waste of time. so yeah, i have no idea how to tell anyone i’m on the verge of jumping off a metaphorical cliff. cause i hate sounding dramatic and i feel like any time i talk about my feelings at all that’s just what it’s like to everyone. dramatic. dramatic and uncomfortable. 

and because i never do it, if i do it now it’s gonna be even weirder. i mean, last week i sat on the kitchen floor and listened to justin rant about how he feels his friend doesn’t want to be friends with him anymore and that feeling sucks, i know, but when i mentioned Tom he was like “huh?? oh yeah i forgot about that” like i hadn’t told him about it the night before. he hasn’t asked me how i’m doing even once, no one has. Jo did once and then she bailed. but yeah, i feel like i try so hard to be a good and supportive friend to justin and he just doesn’t give a shit about me. and i have a feeling he, and maybe most of my friends here??, thinks i simply do not have any feelings because i don’t show them in front of people. sure, i refuse to have anyone see me cry ever, but like that’s not the only way to show emotions??? but no one seems to get that???

So sure, no one cares about your feelings when you always seem to be okay on the outside, no matter how much shit you know is happening on the inside. My point is, my sisters hate me or don’t care about me and that’s the only people i really care about hurting. So. Yeah. Fuck what my meds say, maybe it is a good call to kill myself. Only time will tell i suppose.

#i guess heres the rant that ive been holding in forever lol #its the shit i could never write in my actual journal #cause it would require actual ink #and somehow that's harder than just screaming into the endless very public void that is tumblr?