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wongyuuu · 5 months

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memories of us | lsm

pairing: seokmin x f!reader - soulmate!au summary: every night seokmin dreams of his past lifes, when he met and fell for his soulmate countless times. genre: fluff, angst word count: 11.9k warnings: reader has really low self esteem a/n: this is not, in any way, connected to elevator. both stories are centered around soulmates, however the rules are different. in elevator people carry marks that vanish from their bodies once they meet their soulmate, here is the bond is created by eye contact. i hope you enjoy it :)

Today, when I woke up, the first thing I thought about was you, but that’s not something new. You’re always the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last one before I go to sleep. My mind is consumed by thoughts of you the entire day. There’s not a single minute when you don’t make your presence noticed, even if you’re not really here by my side. The funny thing is that I haven’t met you yet and somehow you are the only one in my mind.

I started to dream of you when I was sixteen. At the time I had no idea of what was going on, I didn’t know what Memorous were, and I couldn’t even phantom why I was dreaming of an older version of myself. I was young and the naive teenager version of me thought that it was something everyone goes through. Ah, maybe these are memories from my past lives. I was right about that part, but I didn’t know the length of what was going on with me.

It was only a month later when I told anyone about it. Because those dreams were something no one ever mentioned around me before, so I was afraid to speak about them. What if, because of those dreams, people started to label me as a freak? I had already a very negative reputation, so to say, I didn’t want to make it worse. When I finally mustered the courage to talk to someone about it, I figured that I should tell my mom about it. She was a mother, my mom, and like all moms she would probably know what to do.

She didn’t.

For a while, she just sat there and stared at me, not like I was a freak but as if I had become a stranger. I was no longer Lee Seokmin, her eldest son who on most days seemed like the youngest. I saw her eyes change that day, from a mother who loved her son to a woman who didn’t know who the boy in front of her was.

It was also the first time that someone told me that I was cursed.

None of us could be sure whether I was cursed or not, but she said it with so much belief that I knew that it had to be true.

I don’t think I have ever felt so alone. Before my mother said those words to me, those words that would be forever stuck in my brain, you are cursed, Seokmin, and there’s nothing any of us can do to change that, I used to be normal - or as normal as a sixteen-year-old hyperactive boy could be. But the second those words were uttered, released into the world, something inside me changed.

I think that the best way to describe it would be a click, I felt a click inside my heart. There’s no other word I could use to describe it.

After everything that happened in the span of minutes, I changed. I started to be more restricted, no one else in the world knew about the dreams or about me being a Memorous. My circle of friends got smaller and smaller. What if, by accident, I told one of them something about the dreams, about you? That couldn’t happen.

In reality, I didn’t have many friends. You know, the kind you tell secrets to and are really close to. Those were the kinds of people that I wanted to avoid at all costs. I wasn’t a loner, though. I had people I could hang out with, people that I would go to a bar or a club with, but I liked to be alone.

It’s weird, isn’t it? I had friends but I wasn’t actually friends with any of them. I wasn’t a loner but the thing I enjoyed the most was being alone.

When I turned eighteen and high school was finally over, I moved away from home. For two years I saved every cent that I could, my main goal was to just leave. I studied my eyes off in school so I could get into a university that was as far away as possible from home. I needed to get a scholarship so I wouldn’t need to ask for help from my parents.

Doing those two things made me feel somewhat proud of myself. It was like I was telling them see just because you think I’m cursed doesn’t mean that I can’t do what I want.

Let me explain to you how the dreams work: every night I dream of you, no exception but every night is a different life.

This is how Memorous must live. I remember every single thing about our past lives, all the details that people usually forget about their lives. I remember them, more or less. I know what you were wearing on April 18th, 1811; I know what was the first word you said to me in Madrid, it was a curse by the way; the first time we bonded.

Sometimes it feels so real that I think if I look by my side, I’ll see you there. That couldn’t be true, I haven’t seen you in this lifetime - I would never be able to let you go if I had.

There’s a trick about being a Memorous though. Once I fall asleep and dream of a different life everything I dreamed the night before vanishes and I can’t remember anything. At first, I thought that it happened like that because sometimes we forget about the dreams we have. It was as if it simply vanished from my mind, and I could only remember it when I dreamt of the same life again. It’s like a selective memory kind of thing.

You know, the feeling of a dream being so real that you could either wake up in panic or just really happy and satisfied?

For me, every dream was like that. If I held your hand in my dream, when I woke up I would still get the feel of your skin against mine; if we fought for whatever reason I would still feel the sadness and the anger lingering in my body.

When I understood what was happening, I started to write down the dreams, every little detail that I could remember. Slowly I started to find a pattern in the dreams, slowly I learned to tell the lives apart and so I started notebooks. It’s a little weird, I know, but I had to keep track of our lives. Maybe, at some level, you might think that I’m crazy or that I’m a stalker. But could it be considered stalking when it’s my own life?

I can’t wait to meet you. Although I haven’t actually met you or even seen you this time around, I feel like I have known you all my life. Is this the feeling we’ll get when we finally meet, this feeling of fullness?

I wonder if you feel that too.

Out of all our lives together I have a favorite one. I mean, it is expected, isn’t it? After such a long time of living countless lives, every day being a different person - although I’m ultimately the same - we are bound to have a favorite one.

If I do say so myself that life is very much Shakespearean. Okay, so imagine this: two families who were very powerful but were opposites and hated each other with a burning passion. And there you have it. Sounds very much like Romeo and Juliet, doesn’t it? Maybe if it happened a couple hundred years earlier, in England, then maybe I could say that we actually inspired him, but we happened far too late.

You know, I still remember the first time I saw you that time around. I think that maybe that bond was the strongest one we’ve had, probably because we were supposed to hate each other. The idea of an unexpected bond between two opposite families is kind of thrilling, isn’t it?

We met at a party. Because our families couldn’t even stand to be in the same space together, mostly our dads - why is it always the dads though? -, they send you and me to represent the families. As you can probably imagine, we had no idea of what the other person looked like.

So, there I was walking inside this immense ballroom, and you were the first person I saw. Looking at you I just knew that you were out of place, that kind of environment wasn’t one you felt comfortable in. At that point, you weren’t looking at me but when you finally did, it was like the entire world stopped. I felt my heart thump inside my chest, but I could feel you too. I saw as you went wide-eyed. You took a step closer to me but then, realizing what you did, you took a couple of steps back. For the entire night, we didn’t approach each other but my eyes never left yours, as yours never left mine.

We followed each other through the night. I got angry, really angry, when someone wanted to talk to me because all I wanted to do was look at you. Whenever my feelings changed, I would feel yours changing too. You felt mostly curiosity. How could this man, someone you had never seen before, catch your attention in such a way that you couldn’t look at anything or anyone else?

Back then it wasn’t like today, you know. The bond happened more quietly, or maybe we only thought it did. Though the bond is something that has been around since the beginning of time, we only found out about it much later in life. I suppose that back then we still didn’t know much about it. Maybe the change everyone felt around a couple that was bonding was there but because we didn’t know what it was supposed to be we just overlooked it.

Back to the story.

You were the first one to make a move to leave but I couldn’t let you go, no way. I followed you out and much to my own surprise you were waiting for me, because somehow you knew that I had to go after you. We didn’t say much, just promised to meet each other a couple of days later.

From that moment on, things took off, or as much as you could possibly expect from a couple in the early nineteen century. We would always meet each other. Everything was exciting because no one could know about what we were doing. Besides the whole ‘my family hates yours’ problem that we had, there was also the problem that both of us were promised to other people. You were supposed to marry a young Duque and I had to marry the daughter of a rich family. If we were against it before, imagine what it was like after we found out about how we felt for each other.

Our happiness didn’t last very long. We were careless and, although we were trying to hide it, we weren’t as stealthy about it as we liked to imagine.

It’s needless to say that when our families found out they were far from happy. They didn’t try to kill us or anything that dramatic, but they started to rush things. Your marriage that was supposed to happen only a year later was set to two weeks later; mine was happening in a few days. Of course, neither of us accepted that.

On the night before my wedding, I felt something trying to pull me. It was like my legs were moving on their own and I saw myself walking out of the house and into the city. I found you there, all alone in the middle of the street, staring at the church I was supposed to get married in. I realized then that the sadness I felt was only partially mine, a lot of it was coming from you. I didn’t really understand how it was possible for me to feel everything that you were feeling but I knew that there wasn’t another explanation for it.

You couldn’t control your emotions and tears were running down your cheeks, you tried hard to push them aside, but it was of no use. The more you tried to make the tears stop the more they fell. I couldn’t control myself by then. You were afraid when my arm went around you but once you knew that it was me you turned in my arms. The tears that ran down your face were no longer out of pain and hurt, they were because we were finally reunited.

We ran away. We didn’t take anything with us. There was no time to go home and get clothes, or say goodbye. We were sure that if we were together then everything would be alright. Because we had each other nothing in the world nothing could hurt us.

That's… that’s as far as the dreams go. I’d like to think that we had a happy ending.

Two years into college I finally understood what my mom meant when she said that I am cursed.

You see, the dreams I have at night are just fragments, tiny little pieces of an entire puzzle. I could only see a day or a week, at most. But the thing is that I only saw us young, meeting, starting the bond, falling in love. Not once did my dreams show us a little older, getting married, having kids, or even if things didn’t work between us. I never dreamed of those things.

At first, my guess was that the dreams were trying to show me a way to get to you, find you in a world that’s filled with billions of people. That wasn’t the case.

One night I dreamed of you dying. I woke up in despair. Instead of the sweet dreams, filled with warm touches and whispered words, I faced images of you surrounded by blood, a lifeless body in my arms.

For a while I wanted to make myself believe that it was just a nightmare, that it would eventually go away but I knew it wasn’t that simple, nothing ever is.

I kept seeing the same thing for days and every day it got worse and worse. It got to the point where I stopped sleeping at all. Every time I closed my eyes I could see your body on the ground, eyes wide open. I knew that it wasn’t true, but I felt like you were looking at me, like you blamed me for your death.

I searched it up. If the same thing happened to other Memorous I wanted to know how to make it stop, if I could even do something like that. From task number one I had problems.

For one, Memorous doesn’t like to be clear about it, we are heavily judged by it because no one understands what it is like to be one. Most people just think that we are making a fuss over nothing, that knowing what your soulmate looks like, what that person likes and dislikes makes it much easier to find the person you are supposed to bond with. What they don’t know is that, like everyone else in the world, people’s taste, personalities and all else changes. In one of your lives, you were a dancer, the stage was your home, and being watched by people was something you thrived off of but in the next one you were a shy girl who couldn’t bear the thought of people looking at her (this actually happened, just so you know).

Second, there aren’t many Memorous in the world. We are considered an anomaly, there are very few of us. I believe that we will only be able to understand why we are born this way when a scientist is born as a Memorous.

But not everything is a lost hope! God bless the people who aren’t scared to share their stories because they want to help other people. I found this post, on a very weird and hard to find website, saying that there is a way to break this ‘curse’. That’s the good news. The bad news is that it’s not up to us to end the cycle. Well, technically it is but it’s not a choice that we can make. It’s confusing, I know.

Apparently, the only way for us to stay together for a long time is if both of us are born Memorous, meaning that you and I must know our past lives. The one who wrote the post was a young boy, claiming that it was his grandparents’ story and that both of them were still alive and fine.

It’s not much but at least it’s something. I can’t help but wonder if this time around you already know who I am.

I saw you today, or at the very least I thought that I did. I looked at my right and you were right there! Your eyes went anywhere but me, it was like you were purposely trying to avoid me. I went after you, called after you (even though I don’t know what you’re called in this life). It seemed that you were running away from me, though I’m sure that wasn’t the case. How could you run from someone you don’t know?

On days like this, I think I’m starting to lose my mind. The dreams are starting to feel more real than ever, and I don’t know what to do. Is it because we are getting closer to each other? Maybe we are in the same city? I hope so.

I’ve hoping for something, just a tiny signal, for the longest time. Was today it? I think about seeing you, how the dreams are now just a repeat of all the first meetings before, how every day when I wake up I have a feeling inside my heart telling me that we are getting closer to each other.

Are we? Does this mean that we are getting closer?

Maybe this is the universe’s way of letting us know. Because our lives, all of them, have been so messed up that this is fate’s way of apologizing for all the crap that it put us through.

I’m going to find you soon. Hopefully, wherever you are you’re also looking for me and that will probably make our lives that much easier.

You closed the journal and put it aside. You managed to hold yourself back while reading, you didn’t want the tears in the back of your eyes to fall on the pages, the precious pages that told your story through Seokmin’s eyes.

It had been hard to come to terms with the idea, the fact, that he was your soulmate but over the years you became more and more used to it. Your lives were too different, your backgrounds complete opposites, and yet - somehow - you were it for each other.

The first time you saw him on TV, you clearly remembered how you felt. It was as if someone had just punched you in the chest. On the other side of the tiny screen was the boy - now the man - you had been dreaming about for years of your life. You never thought that you would find him, especially so soon but then again if you thought about all your dreams, both of you seemed young - maybe even younger than your 25 years.

You stayed away from the TV for about a month after that, but you knew that it wouldn’t last much longer than that. The entire time Seokmin was in the back of your mind, always making sure that you wouldn’t forget him. That was simply something that would never happen, you forgetting about him - even if that was one of the many things that you wanted to do. Eventually, you found yourself turning the TV on again, watching every single program, every video, and buying any magazine that featured him.

Thinking back at it, you felt sort of stupid for doing those things and not just trying to look for him. You were right, your soulmate was Seokmin but your own insecurities were holding you back. Out of everything you had, there was one problem you considered to be major: you had nothing to offer him.

You were the kid no one wanted, the kid that had been tossed into an orphanage at the age of eight, and no one had gone back to take claim. Like a monkey on a tree, you moved from house to house without a chance of staying, even the prospect of making friends didn’t exist.

Growing up you always dreamed of meeting your soulmate, imagined the way you would finally meet the other person. In your mind you were always the hotshot, someone who could make anything happen with a simple word. As you got older you wanted to just live a decent life but all you had was a shitty rented apartment in a sketchy area of the city, a shower that didn’t run with hot water, and were living paycheck by paycheck.

That wasn’t the life you wanted, it was a life that you were almost embarrassed over. How could you ever share a life with someone when you could hardly sustain yourself? That wasn’t possible.

But then it happened. You got dragged by your friend to go to the TV station and watched as Seokmin recorded a program. Jun said that he wouldn’t notice you, that you would sit far in the back, and you could put your bangs down and cover your eyes so there wouldn’t be a single chance of the bond happening.

It was a lie, you knew that. Jun lied straight to your face, and you let yourself fall for it. You couldn’t say no to him, much less to his kids. Hana was so excited about it. Watching Seokmin on TV was her favorite thing in the world, more than dancing or watching cartoons. He’s pretty and funny, my soulmate has to be just like him, she said. It was funny and endearing to watch. Sometimes you just wanted to meet Seokmin because of her, because she was so in love with him. The day you decided to take a step forward was also the day you took eleven steps back.

“Are excited?” Jun bumped his shoulder into yours and smiled.

He could be the kind of person your silly heart would fall for if there weren’t any soulmates. Jun was essentially a good person, with a heart made of gold and filled with so much love that his kids would never go a day in life thinking that he didn’t love them.

“No" yet another lie.

You were excited, a little too excited. Or maybe your excitement was actually just fear. Fear that the bond might happen, fear that Seokmin would be disappointed in who you were, fear that maybe your dreams would come true.

“You said that Seokmin is pretty” Hana called out.

A moment of weakness that you regretted.

“Handsome, honey. Boys are handsome”

She repeated the word a few times as if trying to memorize but everyone knew that she would just keep calling boys pretty.

“Why are you carrying her around like she’s three?”

Hana sighed and hugged Jun’s neck, her head on his shoulder.

“I’m daddy’s little girl”

Jun looked like he was about to cry and Hanbin just groaned, his sister’s act wasn’t something that he was too fond of. You could only smile at them. They were almost too cute for you to handle.

You were one of the first people to get in so there were still a lot of empty spots to choose from. The second you and Jun started to move towards the back Hanbin and Hana protested. Of course, they didn’t want to sit in the back. Besides being kids, and too short to be able to see anything, both liked Seokmin so being too far away was not something that they wanted. In the end, you caved. You couldn’t say no to two kids who were doing the puppy eyes at the same time.

As minutes went by and the studio got filled with people you started to get nervous. You ran your sweaty hands on your jeans trying to get them dry, but it was useless. Every person who walked inside made your heart skip a beat because you thought that it could be him. It never was. The scared part of your brain told you that it was a good thing, that maybe he wouldn’t show up at all, but the other part, the one that wanted to see him in person just once, told you to just wait a little longer because he was going to show.

You waited, for over an hour and there was no sign of him. You knew that in this kind of event it could take them a while to get everything sorted but you were told that it shouldn’t take long once you all went inside.

“Stop,” Jun said, his hand on your arm “Don’t overthink it"

He was smiling at you kindly. It was the kind of smile that was supposed to calm you down and reassure you and yet all it did was make you even more nervous.

“What if we bond?”

“Then you’ll deal with it later”

What if I don’t know how to deal with it?

When people started to scream you looked up and saw the host walking in. He talked for a couple of minutes, made a few jokes trying to be funny and then he introduced Lee Seokmin, a TV personality. The crowd went crazy, there was a girl behind you screaming so loud that you thought you’d go deft.

Seokmin walked in, his characteristic smile in place, as he waved at the audience.

Seeing him in person made the world slow down, even your own heart. Instead of going crazy, your heart nearly stopped, as the sight of Seokmin put you at ease. Your hands were no longer shaking, you didn’t feel like trying to hide yourself anymore. In fact, seeing him made your soul scream at you it’s him, what are you waiting for? Your soul was begging you to go to him. After all, it knew him, because despite being apart for years it recognized him immediately.

And then Seokmin looked at you.

His eyes were on yours as he stood frozen there. You could feel him everywhere. He was shocked, surprised, caught off guard, hopeful, and just so happy. His happiness was contagious because inside you felt happy too. You wanted to stand up and hug him, stay as close as possible to him. The fear you felt for years was momentarily forgotten in the back of your mind.

Your legs moved before you could even realize what you were doing. You stood up and walked to him, stopping only a couple of steps away from him. You felt his heartbeat like it was just under your skin. Being so close to him made your body tingle in the best way possible. Your entire being was begging you to just take another step, just one closer to him, just so you could touch him and feel him all around you.

When Seokmin moved forward, his hand raised ready to touch you - just like you wanted to do - you took a step back. Suddenly the realization of what could happen came crashing down around you. Your dreams, and images of Seokmin lying lifeless on the floor that had been engraved in your mind were unexpectedly in your eyes. You could see it coming, your downfall, and the things you dreaded the most, happening.

“I…”

Seokmin wanted to say something, anything, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to. What words could he possibly profess that would make the fear running through your body go away?

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this"

Turning around and walking away from him might have been the hardest thing you ever did.

You tried your best to keep living normally but it was close to impossible. Every second that went by you were reminded of Seokmin, of the broken look on his face when you walked away, of the way he felt like he had somehow done something wrong. And he felt unloved when it was supposed to be just the other way around. Even before the bond, before you had the chance to look at him in the eyes, you already had feelings for him. Perhaps it was because you knew that you were supposed to love him, you knew that once you met him your feelings would be unstoppable, or it was just because he was charming.

And just how charming he was.

You didn’t know one single person who disliked him, someone who would flat-out say that there was nothing good to like about him. Everyone loved Seokmin, his easy smile and friendly eyes pulled everyone in.

“Until when are you going to keep avoiding him?”

Jun had become the personification of what was happening inside of you. You wanted to meet Seokmin, desperately. You wanted to find out where he was and just go to him, introduce yourself, and just talk to him. Everything seemed so simple inside your mind, and in Jun’s as well, but it was so far from it.

“You’re just avoiding it, you know that”

“So, what if I am? I’m sorry if I don’t want to see my soulmate die!”

You weren’t angry at your friend or even Seokmin, as he would feel sometimes. You were just angry at everyone else, at the world, at destiny, at anyone in the world who decided that it was a good idea to make you see your soulmate die every night.

“I know that, but wouldn’t it be better if you could spend some time with him? Let’s say that you’ll have six months together, that’s it. No more and no less. Don’t you want to be with him for as long as you possibly can instead of keep hiding in here?” Jun moved his hand showing the lounge of his dance school “Think of all your past lives, about how happy you were because you were with Seokmin. In this life too, shouldn’t you be able to feel that kind of happiness?”

Jun was the only person who knew that you were Memorous and he was also the only person who would say that there was nothing wrong with it. You aren’t cursed. If you ask me, you are one of the lucky ones. I would anything to have more memories with Seol. He was also the kind of friend who wasn’t scared to say that you were messing up your own life, that you were doing something wrong. Most days he would act like the dad you never had. You were grateful for him, for having someone so eager to make sure that you were happy.

“Here’s a wild scenario” Jun smiled at Hana, who was running to him, as he stood up “Seokmin doesn’t die"

His words left you speechless as you watched him move away from you.

When you got home that day Seokmin’s journals were waiting at your doorstep.

Reading Seokmin’s words was much like reading your own. Since you started to have dreams, you thought that you were the only one who felt like that, like the only one who didn’t have anyone else to run to. Yes, both of your lives were very different, the place both of you came from was also different. But looking at it or wasn’t all that different.

His words and the way he described his feelings for you were the things that made you take a deep breath and go meet him.

I know that you are scared, I can feel it but please reconsider it. I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for a very long time and I would like to believe that you have too. I’ll be in the city for a few more days so let’s meet. If you don’t come to me, I will go to you. We can’t run away from this.

Seokmin.

Somehow you found yourself getting out of your tiny apartment and going towards Seokmin. You knew just how much he could feel your nervousness and yet he tried to stay calm so you could feel at ease too. The entire time, since you left the TV station, you could feel him in your mind and it was like he was talking to you, trying to convince you to meet or just to be comfortable with the idea of him.

At times you could swear that he was talking to you, his voice clear in your mind. It’s okay, you don’t have to worry. It was like Seokmin himself could read your thoughts. Of course, there were moments when he would feel that spark of fear, and anxiety but most of the time he was in complete control of his emotions. He was doing that for you, there was no mistake, so you felt childish for being all over the place and guilty for bombarding him with emotions that you couldn’t fully grasp.

That was one of the many reasons why you decided to go to him. His words had been the main reason, but you also wanted to put your heart in peace. From the second you walked away from him your heart had been heavy. It was the kind of emotion that was impossible to verbalize, the only word that could possibly come to mind was lost. Your heart was lost. You walked around feeling like there was a huge part of you missing, your eyes looked for something, someone, that was never there.

It was like that until you got his journals. Although you didn’t feel whole you could feel that a little piece of you was back. Perhaps it truly wasn’t a part of you, instead what could be the missing was a piece of you never found before.

The missing piece had always been Seokmin.

You stopped in front of his door, your hand closed into a fist just an inch away.

The truth was that everything you felt, every tiny thing, could be summed into just one word: fear. You were scared.

For years you saw Seokmin die in your dreams, he died in a new way every night. You saw, more times than you could count, the life left his eyes as he took his last breath. Sometimes you would just hear about it from someone, just words thrown into a conversation – words that always managed to break your heart. It never mattered how you found out, it always happened suddenly and unexpectedly.

Whenever you and he were settling into a life together, when you allowed yourself to love each other freely, it happened. You always thought that your love for him, as his for you, worked like a time bomb. And the moment the bond was made was when your time started to run out.

The only thing you thought about was how if you never made the bond then Seokmin would be able to live a long and happy life. It was okay if once, just once, you didn’t find your soulmate. As long as Seokmin got to live, you were fine with whatever life threw at you. Many people went through life without ever finding their soulmates but that didn’t mean that they weren’t happy. It just meant that they had to find other ways to be happy.

“Just, please, knock on the door”

You turned around, startled by the sudden presence behind you, a voice that you had memorized a long time before meeting the person to whom it belonged. Seokmin was there, looking at you like he had just walked out of some kind of sappy movie with his hair a mess and a hoodie that was at least three sizes bigger than him.

“How long have you been there?”

He smiled at you then making you feel like your insides were melting. Seeing him was like making the bond all over again. Your hands were sweating, your heartbeat out of control, slow, fast, and slow. The air around you was heavy and the tension between the two of you was almost palpable, like a thin sheet separating you and him.

“Long enough to know that you’ve been hesitating, for at least, five minutes”

How was it possible for him to be so calm when you felt like your heart was about to combust? Having him so close to you made your entire body shake. You almost wanted to take a step back before you fell to your knees. It was like your legs were barely there to support you.

“I want to say so many things but I’m afraid that if I do, you’ll run away again”

You shook your head at him. This time around you weren’t leaving or running. You had made it this far, there was no way you were backing down. Somehow, seeing Seokmin in front of you made you feel stronger like you could fight the entire universe just because he was right there by your side. He wasn’t doing anything, but he looked at you like you were everything that he had been waiting for and then some more.

“I came so that we could talk” you tried to smile in reassurance, for him or yourself you weren’t sure “Do you want to do this here or somewhere else…?”

“I think that it would be best if we had some privacy”

You took a step aside to let Seokmin open the door to his hotel room.

You had always been scared of people, not of what they could do to you in the spot but of what they could cause in the long run. From a young age, you learned that you were alone and that the people around you never really wanted you there. For the foster homes you went through most of your life, you were just a way to get easy money; for your first boyfriend you were just a pity bet; for your high school friends you were just the girl they let hang out with them in exchange for assignments; for your parents, you were just someone, something, that they could easily toss aside when they finally got bored.

All of those things left deep scars on you. Though you did your best to cover them, they were always there right under the surface. You always smiled at people and made sure to tell them that you were perfectly fine even though you weren’t, even though all you wanted was to curl into yourself and let yourself feel all that pain.

Jun had been the first person to get through to you, the only one who had stayed long enough for you to think that maybe he was around you because he actually liked you and not because he wanted something from you in return.

It was true that Seokmin was your soulmate, that once the bond is made someone can never really walk away from it. You knew all of those things, like a book that you were constantly reading. Knowing something is completely different than doing it. The insecurities, always in the back of your mind, screamed at you louder than any belief or hope. Your brain always told you that someone like Seokmin, someone who had everything – and anyone – he could possibly want, would never stay for someone like you, bond or no bond.

“Do you want something to drink? I can get you anything you want”

Seokmin opened the door for you and pointed at the couch in front of it. As you had expected his room wasn’t just room, it was like a goddamn apartment – hell it was bigger than half of the houses you went through as a teenager.

“I… it’s fine. I’m fine”

Seokmin knew that you weren’t fine but chose to stay quiet about it, he knew that it wasn’t a good idea to tell you just how much of you he could understand. It wasn’t only because he could feel every tiny thing coming from you but also because you were like an open book, filled with words begging to be read.

“I got your journals,” you said “I also read them”

Your words made Seokmin sigh in relief. He thought that if you saw his journals, and read his feelings, you would be able to understand how desperate he felt, how much his feelings had been all over the place – despite him trying to remain calm. His feelings mirrored yours very much, almost in every way.

“Because you shared yours with me, I think it’s only fair if I do the same with you”

He looked up at you, surprise all over his face as you handed him the small box you had been carrying.

“I’ve dreamed about you, for the past ten years, too. Every night I saw you and fell for you, every version of you”

The surprise Seokmin felt, the happiness, and the relief that ran through his body the moment he saw you at his door was almost completely gone when he heard what you were saying. He wanted to think that maybe he heard it wrong but the look in your eyes assured him that he hadn’t heard it wrong. Your words had been loud and clear, ricocheting inside his brain.

“For how long you have known about me?”

Your heart was breaking, shattering into tiny pieces when you saw and felt the change in Seokmin. He held the box with your journals like it weighed a thousand pounds, his face was contorted with something that you couldn’t decipher but his feelings were clear, like the sky on a starry night. Seokmin felt betrayed, hurt, and unwanted, all things that weren’t true.

“Since you started, around the same time, since I was sixteen as well” you whispered.

Seokmin felt his heart drop all the way down to his toes feeling sick to his stomach. He had always wanted to find you, from the day he understood what his dreams meant he looked for you – everywhere and anywhere in the world. You were the reason why he even started to work in TV, he thought that if he got a job that required him to talk to a lot of people then it would be easier to find you. But the idea, now the fact, that you had always known about him but even then, decided not to look for him, not to take a step away from him, was like a slap to his face.

“Do you know that I tried to look for you everywhere? I nearly went crazy. Every day since my dreams, the memories of us, started I searched for you. While you…” he scoffed like the world had played yet another sick joke on him “You knew who I was but you never…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it; thinking about it – feeling it – was already bad enough. Seokmin didn’t want to voice it, if he did then everything would become that much more real, too real, more heartbreaking than anything else in his life up until that moment.

The dreams crushed his heart every morning when he woke up. Seokmin felt his heart die a little inside his chest for the life he never got to live with you, for the words he never got to hear from you, for seeing the bright light leave your eyes time and time again. But ultimately those dreams were just that: dreams, memories of a different period in time, of a different life that although felt real, it no longer was.

“I was afraid, Seokmin…”

“I know that you were! I felt it, with fiber in my body, I knew that you were scared, terrified that for some reason I wouldn’t love you. I knew all of that like it was my own fear”

The despair he had in his voice was felt in your body, every tiny cell. You hated that he was feeling like that, that your first ever encounter with him – a proper one – was only worth a fight. That was not how you wanted things to go. You thought that if you ever met him things would run smoothly but the reality of it was far from your expectations.

“Like you, I am a Memorous” you had to say it, you needed Seokmin to hear your words just once “The first time I saw you, like you are right now, was on TV but it was so fast that I couldn’t be sure. I was on the bus, passing by a TV store. The next day I stayed in front of the same store the entire day, waiting for that brief second of your face for hours. When I finally saw you I cried, right there in the middle of the sidewalk because I just felt so happy to see you, to finally find the boy that I had seen so many times before, the boy I loved so blindly, even though I have never met before.

“But the dreams… they are alive inside my mind. I don’t forget them like you do. My brain stores them like they are memories of this life, all those feelings were as real as if I lived them this time around. I thought about all the times I saw you die, and I couldn’t live through that again. I couldn’t let that happen to you, not after I saw you. I only knew you from the screen of my tv but my feelings were already so strong. I wanted the bond to happen, you can’t doubt that for a second, but I was scared. I would very much rather live knowing that you were somewhere out there, living a happy and long life than having you live a short one with me”

Your words were more than enough to make Seokmin stop. Until that moment, his mind was flying all over the place but the second you opened your mouth he couldn’t bring himself to be angry anymore. Those feelings, the fear of seeing your other half – the one you were supposed to be with – die, was one he knew very well. He often wondered what would happen when he finally met you.

The first time he saw you, he had been over the moon, he felt you and everything else. He felt the pull and your desire to get closer to him. To say that Seokmin was surprised when you ran away was an understatement. He didn’t truly understand everything that was happening inside of him, the unthinkable mix of you and him made him feel dizzy because he couldn’t set you apart.

He could finally understand the things you did but it didn’t mean that he liked them.

“I think it’s going to be a very long night”

Seokmin read your journals in front of you, and it didn’t feel embarrassing. Those journals, your words, had been written for him and for him only. While you wrote down your dreams you thought of him, of how he would read them one day and how much you wanted him to.

You spent the entire night in his hotel room. You talked for hours and hours and suddenly the subject wasn’t as heavy anymore, both of your fears momentarily forgotten, and you were simply enjoying each other’s company.

Seokmin was everything that he seemed to be, but he was also that much different. His bubbly personality was still there, fully out in the open for everyone to see, but there was also a shy side to him - one that not many people knew about but it was cute to watch. More often than he would like to admit, Seokmin would trip over his words, insecure about what he could and couldn’t say to you. The ice is still very thin, it’s making me nervous he said at some point in the night.

You had scooted closer to him or maybe he got closer to you, how it happened didn’t really matter. You found yourself sitting on the couch with your knees pulled to your chest as Seokmin quietly played with your fingers.

Just having him around you felt like a dream but the moment his skin touched yours? It was like fireworks exploded under your skin, like every single nerve in your body was suddenly awake. You could feel him everywhere, like he was not just the man in front of you, but he was also part of the air, like he could be all around you whilst staying in the exact same spot. He gave you calmness, a sense of peace and security. Things that up until that moment no one had been able to give you, not even yourself.

“I really want to kiss you” you whispered. Seokmin’s fingers stilled in yours and something sparkled in his eyes as he looked at you. The moment was suspended in the air as if it wasn’t neither here or there, as if time itself had stopped and all the attention was now on the two of you and the way you were feeling in that very second.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, you didn’t want to. It was the first time, in your entire life, that you craved someone’s touch and presence. With Seokmin you wanted that and so much more, everything that he had to give, you wanted.

Feeling like that for someone after only knowing them for a couple of hours was impossible, the kind of thing that you would never expect to happen, the kind of thing that you would laugh at because something like that couldn’t exist. But with you and Seokmin, nothing was as it seemed.

It was true that you had only known him for a little while but just in this life. When you looked at him you saw traces of the many different people that he had been in the past and because of that, it was like you fully knew him. That wasn’t the case, and you knew that, but even so, the feeling of reconnection still existed.

Seokmin inched forward, his eyes focused on your lips, as he interlocked your fingers and pulled you towards him. There was one second of hesitation, one tiny second that felt like an eternity before his lips finally pressed on yours and then it was pure magic.

Seokmin had to leave a few days later and you hated the idea of having to see him walk away. It wasn’t final, you knew that, but it hurt all the same. He had stayed in the city for you far longer than he was supposed to, his phone always blowing up with text messages from people concerned about his whereabouts when in reality he had been locked up with you inside your apartment.

On the contrary to what you previously thought, Seokmin didn’t care about your tiny apartment, about the fact that you had been to more foster homes than what you were willing to admit, or about the fact that you didn’t have a degree. I like you for you, not for the baggage that comes with you.

You sat at the airport for hours after his flight departed, the emptiness growing inside of you as the seconds ticked away.

Seokmin felt the same way. He wanted to stay or for you to just go with him, but he didn’t dare to ask. He knew that even though you didn’t think much of your life, you liked it. You loved to be a receptionist at Jun’s school, loved being surrounded by the kids, loved the city you lived in, and you were a little proud of yourself for being your own person and living your own life - even though you would never admit it. He got into the plane with a heavy heart, but he had to figure things out. He had to find a way for the two of you to be together. It was uncertain of what the future held for you. You could be together for just a year before one of you died or your entire life was still ahead of you. The not knowing drove him crazy.

Three weeks apart was all he could take before he found himself boarding a plane to the other side of the country and breaking a few contracts while he did so. You called every day, facetimed whenever there was a chance and texts were always a constant but just that wasn’t enough.

Due to the distance, the constant pull to you only grew stronger and the grasp he had of your feelings, how Seokmin could tell exactly what was going on with you, was slowly disappearing. It wasn’t that you were learning to control what he could and couldn’t see. Once the bond is made the newfound soulmates need to stay close to each other, it’s physically and mentally tiring to be away. He noticed that you sounded more exhausted on the phone, as your eyes nearly closed when you talked on Facetime.

All those things pulled him to you, yes, but Seokmin also wanted to see you desperately.

He didn’t tell you that he was coming to see you, he wanted to make it a surprise. The entire flight he felt just how happy you were, probably because you were at the dance school with the kids, but he also noticed your worry, because he hadn’t answered his phone in a few hours, as you tried to push it as far back in your mind as possible.

The long see-through glass walls of the school allowed Seokmin to see you inside. He heard your laugh before he saw you, the sound had been imprinted in his mind like the type of song that just gets stuck. And then he saw your profile looking at the little boy in front of you lovingly. When you smiled, he thought that his heart would explode inside his chest.

Seeing you, even from far away, was like going home after a long time. The feeling of calmness, the feeling of finally being able to breathe properly. Just looking at you made him lighter in a way that he couldn’t exactly put into words.

The kids were the first ones to see Seokmin. The little boy you talked to gasped, and his eyes went wide. All the other kids had the same reaction, some of them pointed at him while others just went back to what they were doing before.

You stood frozen in place and watched Seokmin walk from where he was to the door. You had to make sure that he was really there, that it wasn’t something that you were imagining. If it wasn’t for the cute selfies he sent you stored in your phone, you would be sure that meeting Seokmin and everything else that happened after had been nothing but a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time you wished for a life that could never have.

You got up and took a step away from the kids before walking as fast as you could - nearly running - towards him. He met you halfway, his arms reached for you before you collapsed into him.

You sighed in contentment and relief when you felt his skin against yours, when his warmth enveloped you. Everything else was forgotten and it no longer mattered.

“You’re really here,” you said against his neck.

His chuckle ran through your entire body and he tightened his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to him.

“Half a country away is too much" he murmured.

You stayed in place for minutes, long enough for one of the kids to get bored and call out your name a couple of times. One of them ran inside and got Jun, because the little boy thought that Seokmin might be holding you for too long.

“This reunion is great and all but it’s weird for the kids”

At the sound of your friend’s voice, you let go of Seokmin but you didn’t go too far. Three weeks had been long enough, you would take whatever few moments with him that you could get before he had to leave again. So you stayed by Seokmin’s side, your fingers interlocked with his.

“Seokmin, this is Jun”

“I was the one who gave him your address, how else do you think he would send you his journals?”

Seokmin looked at you, with surprise in his face. He hadn’t expected you to tell someone about it, about his journals, or about anything at all. From the moment he saw you, and even from the journals you wrote, he knew that you were the kind of person who didn’t tell those around her much about her life so it was a surprise that you had talked about it with someone.

“It’s good to see that things worked out for you,” Jun said, he looked at the watch on his wrist before looking back at you again “Go on, take the rest of the day off”

You shook at head, pointing at the kids behind him - who were already making a fuss all over the place.

“I still have a few more hours to go and you need help with the kids”

Jun just rolled his eyes when he took a few steps closer to you and Seokmin, pretty much pushing out of the door.

“I’ll let you know that there was a time when I managed this place just fine without you”

For the rest of the day, you walked around town with Seokmin. He held your hand the entire time, letting it go just to put his arm around your shoulder, either way, he always had his hands on you. You didn’t mind it, in fact, you liked it a lot. The idea of always being close to him made your heart flutter in impossible ways, made you imagine what life would be like when you finally got to be with him for more than a few hours at a time, it made you wish for a future when you would be able to see him every day and talk to him and just be around him.

“I’ve been thinking,” Seokmin said when you reached your neighborhood.

“That could be dangerous”

During the time you and Seokmin talked on the phone, he told a lot about his childhood and there was one thing that was clear to you: he was an unpredictable kid. His ideas were always crazy and so unnatural for a child. When you were in foster care you thought that the other kids were crazy, but they were just reckless, Seokmin was wild.

“I should have never told you those stories,” he said with a sigh, a tiny smile on his face “I’ve got this job offer, here in the city. It’s not like what I do now but I think that it could be fun and I’ll try to make it work as much as possible. If I do take it, we’ll be closer to each other”

You were shaking your head before he was done speaking. Seokmin changing jobs, and doing something else that was not what he wanted initially was a huge no.

“You’re not moving here”

He sighed again and took your hand in his.

“I know you’re worried about my job, but I only started to do it because I thought that it was the easiest way to find you. I can do something else, anything else, if it means that I can have you”

You turned to look at him, your hand squeezing his. His words assured you, more than anything in the world. Hearing those words was the only thing you needed.

“Remember how I told you that Jun’s soulmate mom is a social worker? She told me that there is this University, not the most prestigious one but a university nonetheless, that is more likely to give out scholarships. A couple of months ago I took the test to get in and I got the results a week ago”

Seokmin nodded at you, not really understanding what you meant. Truth be told, he was a little hurt. The second he mentioned it you were already denying it, like the mere idea of having him close to was repulsive. He knew that couldn’t be the case, knew that those things never reached your heart but even so, the feeling of getting rejected was there.

“I got in. I have to move there in the next few weeks or so, to settle in and find my way around town”

“Where… where is that?”

You laughed and kissed him quickly. He looked way too cute with the confused look on his face.

“I didn’t ask for your address just to have it, Seokmin. I want to be close to you so I was looking for a place near yours but also close enough to the university”

Before you even done speaking Seokmin already had his arms around while he placed quick kisses all over your face, making you laugh.

Moving away was harder than expected. There weren’t many things that tied you to that place, but the few things that did make it heartbreaking.

Just as you predicted, telling Jun was easy. Your friend, like always, had been supportive saying that he had your back in all the choices you’ve made and the choices that you would come to make.

His kids were a completely different story. When you told Hana about it, she started to cry, tears running down her little face and sobs escaping her lips. You knew that it was going to be hard to talk to her, but you didn’t think that it was going to be like that. Hanbin was easier but you knew that he was also feeling it.

“Will you call us every day?”

“I’ll call you every Sunday morning,” you said pinching her cheeks “We all know how much your dad loves Sunday mornings”

Jun groaned but he still had a smile on his face.

“Why do you hate me?”

It broke your heart to leave all three of them, but it was something that you had to do, not only because you wanted to be close to Seokmin but because of yourself. The change was something that you needed to do in order to move your life forward.

Moving day wasn’t as terrible as you expected. Seokmin had helped you move all your stuff, boxing everything to perfection. You didn’t have much you wanted to take with you but even so, everything you owned had been labeled and wrapped.

Somehow Seokmin had managed to convince you to just move in with him. You tried to deny him at first. It didn’t make any sense; you had just started something with him and suddenly you were putting your toothbrushes together. That was way too fast. “We don’t know how much time we have together so why waste it by being apart?” You tried reasoning with him “What if I can’t stand your habits and you hate mine?” To what he just said, “I’ll love all of your nasty habits and I’ll be the perfect prince, so you’ll have nothing to complain about”.

It all ended with a heated make-out session on your couch.

Seokmin was feeling edgy. He was supposed to be home hours ago, he knew that you were worried but restraining yourself from calling him. He loved his job, he really did, and it was amazing that he got to keep it and be with you at the same time, but he hated days like those. He hated the late-night shootings when he had to be away - especially when he could feel how worried you were - and he didn’t even like to think about when he had to do something out of town.

The drive back home felt endless. He broke God knows how many speed limits, and crossed a few red lights. He didn’t know why he was feeling like that, he knew that there wasn’t anything wrong going on at home. You would have called him in case something happened, he would have felt something change.

But at times he couldn’t help but feel anxious.

It had been four years. Four years since you found each other, since you started your life together, probably the four happiest years of his. But whenever he wasn’t expecting it, whenever Seokmin started to feel comfortable again with his life and you around him, his dreams would come back to haunt him. Instead of seeing you, in the past, he saw you as you were in this life. He saw the woman he loved, more than any of his dreams could have let him know, die in front of him, in his arms. It was always like that, you had a smile on your face, a tear ran down your cheek and you said that loved him.

On nights like that, he would search for you. His arms moved directly to you and pulled you to him as quiet sobs escaped his lips. You always cried with him on nights like that. You didn’t have those sorts of dreams, but his despair and fear ran through your body as if they were your own.

That night was just like that. The whole day he had a sickening feeling in his stomach. Like the world was telling him that something was bound to happen. The one thing that had somehow calmed him was how at ease you were during most of the way.

Seokmin walked inside a house in darkness, the light in the hallway the only thing that could possibly tell him that there was someone home. You always did that for him when he had one of his late nights.

You were sleeping in the bedroom, so Seokmin tried his best not to make a sound. But he knew that all his efforts were useless when he walked out of the bathroom to find the bedside lamp on and you looking at him.

“I didn’t mean to wake you”

You sat up and smiled at him, shaking your head. It was a good thing that he had woken you up. Your sleep wasn’t peaceful, no nightmares or dreams but although you were asleep you still had that weird feeling of being awake while sleeping.

“It’s fine, I actually have to talk to you about something”

Seokmin wouldn’t like what you had to say to him, in fact, you were pretty sure that he would probably hate it.

“I talked to your sister today” the words left your lips in a quiet whisper.

Seokmin stood still, his eyes focused on you, but his mind was somewhere entirely. He finally understood why you had felt so anxious and nervous during lunchtime and why he was feeling on edge the entire day.

“We’re not doing this” he shook his head.

“Seokmin it’s been 12 years, you’re going to have to talk to them at some point”

You reached for his hand at the same that Seokmin scoffed at you.

“You haven’t talked to your parents in 22 years and I don’t push toward them”

Seokmin regretted his words the second he said them. He watched as you tried your best to control your emotions and not let him feel just how hurt you truly felt about his words. You pulled back the hand you reached to Seokmin and tucked it under the blankets.

“I did try to look for them, Seokmin. I found them. It went the same way as it did when I was eight years old. They didn’t want me”

You never told anyone about that, it wasn’t the kind of thing that you liked to talk about. To be honest you didn’t even like to think about it.

A week before you moved in with Seokmin you searched for your parents. With Jun’s help, you managed to find them, quite easily. They still lived in the city, in the same house you lived in for the first eight years of your life. All it really took to get a hold of them was to find the documents they filled when they left you in the foster house. Your meeting with them didn’t last long, less than five minutes and they didn’t even invite you in. All the conversation was done at their doorstep. “We can’t do anything for you, we’re not parent material,” they said to which you answered, “I’m no longer a kid who needs care and protection”.

For them to suddenly find their inner parent wasn’t something that you wanted or expected but you thought that they could, at least, be part of your life but even that they refused. They only showed some kind of interest when you mentioned Seokmin and just by looking at them, you could tell that their interest was more on what Seokmin brought with him than for you.

After that you never mentioned them again, never allowed Jun to talk about it again, not even thinking about them was allowed.

“Just because people bond doesn’t mean they become good people, Seokmin. It just means that there’s someone out there who won’t judge your choices”

“Babe…”

Seokmin crawled on the bed towards you, his arms going around you and tangled his legs with yours.

You stayed quiet for a while, unmoving. That was your favorite place in the world, his arms. Even if you had just some kind of argument with him, even if you were hurt by what the other person said, you never turned your back on each other.

“I’m afraid if I let them in again the same thing will happen. I can’t go through that again”

You turned in his arms, facing him.

“They were probably just afraid Seokmin, the things people say about Memorous aren’t nice. Maybe they were just afraid to lose their son. Your sister did sound really sorry on the phone” you ran your hand on his cheek “You’re thirty years old, the feelings you had at eighteen are not the same and you certainly are not the same person. Maybe we could try talking to them, and if it doesn't work, it doesn’t”

“Thank you for reminding me that I’m old”

You giggled against his chest, which made Seokmin kiss the top of your head.

“You’ll only be old when our kids kids go to college”

Something in Seokmin’s eyes changed, all the anger and laughter from just a second before suddenly disappeared. He rolled on the bed, so he was on top of you.

“Are we talking babies now?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed your way up from his collarbone to his lips.

“You’ve been lacking in that department lately, husband”

He pulled your hands away from his neck and presses it against the mattress.

“I’ll be sure to make it up to you, wife”

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writing-for-life · 19 days

Text

Right, okay, I’ve thought long and hard whether to write this:

A squick (even a strong one) is not the same as a trigger.

Emotional discomfort, even emotional discomfort that leads to low-level physical symptoms like e.g. mild nausea, is not trauma. Unfortunately, TikTok pop psych has done nothing to help people understand the difference, because the trend to perceive (even strong) emotional discomfort as equivalent to a trauma response is worrying and neither helps people with nor without PTSD. I don’t wish it on anyone to actually find out the difference if they haven’t yet (disclaimer, since this is unfortunately necessary these days because everything gets misconstrued: I am not talking about individual experiences, because only you can know about those. I’m talking about wider trends in an often young audience with not enough background info to be able to tell apart sound medical/psychological info and viral BS created by “influencers” for some kind of personal gain).

What people in the current fandom spat want to have tagged as “triggers” are overwhelmingly squicks. And we’re probably all guilty of quickly saying “that triggered me”, myself included (and I’m a licensed psychotherapist, shame on me). It has become somewhat of a shorthand for “extremely annoyed or grossed out”. But when it gets used in the context of tagging, it’s good to remember that no one owes us a tag list the length of our arm just because we don’t like certain things. Even if we strongly dislike them.

And even on the occasion someone else’s yuck or yum is an actual trigger for us, it is impossible to cover for every possible trigger, because in theory, EVERYTHING has the possibility to trigger someone somewhere.

E.g., a certain smell in a supermarket holds the rare possibility of triggering someone, but do you see disclaimers at the supermarket door that say, “May smell of 484 different things, which are in detail [list of 484 things] and might be different tomorrow. Plus, we might have a customer today who smells of that perfume that brings up your triggering childhood memories. Or maybe we won’t, but just on the odd chance we do, we thought we’d rather cover it”.

There might be one person with a very specific trigger that does literally nothing to the vast majority of people. Do we expect everyone on Tumblr to tag for “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” because of that? How about that person just puts “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” in their content filter instead?

Do we really suggest to put that type of responsibility on creators? More importantly: Who are we protecting that way? All we do is put people into bubble wrap and shift responsibility for our mental wellbeing away from ourselves to others.

We are trying to tell other people what to do for our own comfort. That’s controlling.

If we’re squicked out by something, there is a simple solution: we can stop looking or reading. We can use content (not tag) filters. In the worst case, we can block. We don’t have to put that type of responsibility for our personal sensitivities on creators (or people who reblog, for that matter).

We can tag for certain things as a courtesy, I’m all for it. I love being able to filter out stuff I’m not into, and I sometimes wish people would tag better or not tag a certain way (getting ship tags for a ship you’re not into slapped on your character-metas is annoying 🤣). But I don’t die, neither does it cause me unbearable distress, if I see cows where I don’t expect them. Scroll past or block. And if I’m worried about mature topics like nudity or violence: Tumblr has a community label for mature themes you can (and in my view should) use if in doubt. Funnily enough, many people don’t do that though—maybe because they worry about reach?

Of course we should include content warnings where they are due, no one says we shouldn’t. It’s also fair if a creator doesn’t wish to do that beyond general warnings (no specifics) though because they might give away, say, major plot points that way. In that case, general disclaimers like “contains depictions of violence”, or whatever it might be individually, are a good idea. And if that’s not specific enough for us despite knowing that “violence” in general might also contain our personal trigger, we might need to make the decision not to read it to stay safe, but we shouldn’t have a go at the writer for not tagging very specific things that might be considered spoilers.

Long story short: If we assume people are “triggered” by werewolves with vulvas or non-human characters, it might be worth thinking about whether we’re just talking about squicks that very much fall into the category of “personal responsibility”. And there are plenty solutions to that at our end—we don’t need to put that on creators…

#fandom problems #fandom entitlement #fandom stuff #squicks #vs #triggers #tagging #being grossed out or strongly disliking is uncomfortable #but it’s not the same as being triggered

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comradekatara · 6 months

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What are the ATLA ppl's fav pseudoscience?

okay so this is a really funny question because obviously many of the atla characters do already strongly believe in things that we would classify as pseudoscience, but also because they live in an entirely different cosmology, some of what we label pseudoscience (see: ty lee's whole deal) is in fact plausible within the world they inhabit. and there are also degrees of plausibility. we see phrenology practiced (by professor zei in "the desert") but we as the audience are expected to be critical of the practice (at least... i hope!), or while katara buys into fortunetelling wholeheartedly, sokka's skepticism is also given credence. and then the concept of qi is like. integral to the fabric of the show. so i'm instead going to frame this as "their favorite pseudoscience within my modern au" because otherwise it would simply get far too confusing.

aang would probably be into cryptozoology. i don't really have much to say here, i think he'd just believe in nessie and sasquatch and mothman because why not. makes the world more magical, yknow?

katara obviously buys into astrology and palm reading and stuff of that ilk. but it's not just a fun little game for her, like she does genuinely believe it's 100% real. and she has gotten into some really terrible fights with sokka over this. (almost as bad, in fact, as their blowout fight over whether or not pluto ought to be reclassified as a planet, wherein katara was so deeply offended by sokka's claim that "the classification of pluto is not a social justice issue, except for perhaps in the sense that you sound like a conservative right now" that she dramatically declared that she was disowning him as her brother.)

sokka's role is basically to personify/embody the scientific method so him believing in pseudoscience is antithetical to his mo. that said, i guess you could say he believed in gendered bioessentialism, but even then he changes his mind the second he is presented with data that disconfirms his paradigm, so it's more honest to state that he wouldn't really "believe in" anything since that's not how he approaches the world in the first place.

toph tries acupuncture with aang in "nightmares and daydreams," and also is a walking polygraph, so let's just go with that.

suki's a dyke so she knows the basics of her birth chart just by nature of being in those circles, but she also knows better than to mention that around sokka, because she fears that he would dump her on the spot if she admitted to knowing that she's a "taurus moon."

zuko becomes convinced over the course of his life that iroh knows everything there is to know about everything, all because of that one time iroh said "maybe you shouldn't live with your father?" and zuko was like "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!!!' and ever since he has regretted that argument so much that he has fully bought into tcm, but also doesn't really understand it himself, so he kind of just blathers on about "hot versus cold foods" or whatever, but in a way that it's clear that he's just putting words together in a poor man's facsimile of his uncle.

mai likes to fuck with people by claiming that she genuinely believes in humor theory. she'll be like "my, doesn't someone possess an excess of black bile today?" and revel in alienating everyone around her. i mean, she doesn't actually believe in it, but by the parameters of your question, it is nonetheless her favorite pseudoscience.

despite what you might be expecting me to say, ty lee's favorite pseudoscience is actually psychology.

and azula's favorite pseudoscience is eugenics, obviously. she can't get enough of the stuff.

#bigpansy #asks #the gaang and #modern au #sort of #i think this post is gonna alienate everyone actually #so youre kind of sick and twisted for asking it of me in the first place #although maybe thats on me for answering it #lmao

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craycraybluejay · 8 months

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Literally, people who joke with me about how psychotic and crazy I am are a million times better allies than some asshole who wants to debate the validity of psychotic disorders with me, an individual who has one. And people who are so scared to think about someone they know having a psychotic disorder, not because they're worried for them but because they can't see us as just people. They will dance around the issue with "oh youre just weird thats okay!" "Im sure everyone can see things if theyre really stressed" "maybe youre just depressed?" Underhanded 'compliments' about how normal they're Sure you are and how theres no way youre like "that weird guy i saw rambling to himself a few months ago in the park" or "my friend nancy who thinks she's an alien." Because they can't dare to see you as a person if you're Like Them.

You can say PSYCHOTIC. You can say SCHIZO. They're not dirty words. I love my schizotypy. It's a part of me, and it is dare I say quite a part of the reason I have the talent and drive that I do in certain fields of study and arts. Maybe other people on the schizo spectrum don't like it, and that's their choice and feelings, their experience. But one thing's for sure, accepting and destigmatizing schizo spectrum disorders is important in the madpunk movement. I don't need double-edged "praise" of how I'm "not like them." And what if I am? What if I'm stark-raving mad, speaking in tongues and trying to fight demons and falling in love with things that don't exist to anybody else? What if green-yellow butterflies fly around my field of vision while I look at you, while we talk? What if I hear the voices of people I really don't like while you and I have a pizza at my place? What if the world tilts and shifts, and suddenly I'm not sure where I am and everything feels possible and god is talking to me and the shadow government is watching me? What then? Am I no longer a person? Is my reality less important than yours? Do I deserve to be unpersoned for seeing the world differently, whether that be due to a mental disorder or simply because I don't agree with the status quo?

We all deserve to be treated equally and fairly. Some differences we are born with, others we attain later in life unrelated to genetics or anything like that, some are simply quirks. No one should be forced to identify under labels they don't agree with, and conversely, no one should be denied the validity of their own experience of themselves and their life. And all differences, psychotic ones especially, because that's what this post is about, are beautiful in their own way and worthy of acceptance and respect.

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atlasofthestaars · 7 months

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[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .006

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE: Not sure if the beginning needs any warnings and what to label it? But it is a little more dreary than the rest of the story has been previously, so take note of that.

Originally was going to be a bit of a faster paced chapter, but I started writing in like, the complete opposite way, and I kinda liked where it went so I just rolled with it. So it’s a little bit slower of a chapter this time, but I hope the fluff makes up for it since it has moments with the champion squad.

Hopefully, according to my plans, we should only have a few more chapters left in the pre-outworld arc? I think about chapter 11 is where we will hop back to it with the mini tournament for Earthrealm’s champion, but that estimate may change depending on the ideas I have. I just want to make sure we have plenty of time with all the Earthrealm men before we head back into more of the plot.

Looks like Shang Tsung is part of the official love interest line up! This actually quite heavily affects the story, so hopefully you all will be pleased by how it turns out when that part rolls around! Reiko did not make the cut, sorry to all those who wanted him! He will get screentime, but the reader will have a different type of dynamic with him due to this.

Also double whammy poll! While we have a lot of lovely men to fall for, someone asked about Kitana and Mileena! So here’s your time to let me know your thoughts on them! (Especially Mileena, because it WILL change whether I portray Mileena x Tanya in this fic or if Mileena is not with her so she can be romanceable).

I LIED I JUST REALIZED I CAN ONLY DO ONE POLL AT A TIME. KITANA WILL BE NEXT CHAPTER, THEN HAVIK WILL BE AFTER THAT.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO HAS STRUGGLES RELAXING

Turns out, you struggle with forcing yourself to relax.

It was odd, you had been content before with a life of a simple routine. All you had to do before was train yourself and be at Liu Kang’s side as your duties, you could do whatever else you wished for the rest of the day. Most times that meant going on long walks and trying to decipher your memories.

It was a routine you settled on after many had decided you needed no further routine training, and after a certain incident. Of course, you pushed yourself to train with others occasionally nowadays, but you were a student no longer.

It was a routine most were happy you had, for before that simple routine, you had found yourself often run ragged. You often went from place to place, too ambitious to train, too ambitious to strive for more. In between those training sessions, you found yourself often running around doing too many tasks that others had given you upon your request. You sometimes skipped meals, and sometimes cut hours of sleep to try and cram everything into your schedule.

It wasn’t like no one noticed the way you were slowly ruining yourself, they did, you just ignored their concerns. You waved it off, saying you were fine. You found yourself saying that line to Liu Kang the most, who always seemed to want to stop you.

It got so bad even Bi-Han had to sit you down and scold you for how exhausted you had become.

“Fool, don’t you know you’re inconveniencing everyone else when you destroy yourself like this!?” He had told you, pinning you with a harsh glare. He had slammed his hands on the desk, ice spreading from his hands onto the desk from his frustration.

You had, of course, defended yourself in every which way back then. Who cares if you were tired? You had to get things done so others could relax. Why did he insinuate that you were a burden when clearly everyone else was benefitting from this? Those points and many more were tossed between you two, and that had caused a large argument between you two for a long time.

That grudge between you two carried for a while. You had been too stubborn to admit Bi-Han was right. How could you? That’d be admitting defeat.

And you loathed defeat.

Furthermore, that meant that you had to stop doing stuff for people. Certainly you could not stop your training, that would lead to you weakening. You had to get stronger! People were counting on you, and you had a feeling that you just had to get stronger, even without thinking of others. The tiny voice in your head was screaming that you had to.

And if you didn’t cut down on training, you had to stop doing tasks. And how could you tell someone that you couldn’t do something for them? The idea of the look of disappointment followed by a pitiful “it’s alright” scared you. You already promised so many people many things, you couldn’t just go around and tell them that you couldn’t all of a sudden.

You’d be a disappointment.

So you deluded yourself that you were doing the right thing, letting yourself get carried away. It was a harsh, dark part of your life. It was a part of your life you were not proud of. You pushed many people away. Kuai Liang, Tomas, Madam Bo, Master Kai…so many people that kept on telling you to end this foolish pursuit.

You didn’t listen.

You carried on with your destructive lifestyle, aiming to try and do anything and everything all at once. If you could do it all, everyone else would be happy, and that’s all you wanted. You lied often, saying that you were okay, and tried to cover it up with a weary smile

It wasn’t until you had collapsed during training and gone unconscious for nearly a day that Liu Kang stepped in.

“I have been a fool.” Liu Kang had murmured when you had awoken that day, You felt faint, nauseous, and so many things all at once. He had reached a hand to touch your forehead, eyebrows furrowed with worry. “I should have realized earlier that you had been running yourself into the ground, I should have trusted my own instincts and never let you go this far.”

“I’m fine.” You had insisted, trying to sit up. The god had to force you down, which was easy in your weakened state. He had instructed you to take a break until you were better. “How long?” You had asked, your voice hoarse as you asked desperately, feeling the grip of fear at the idea of becoming useless for the people that meant so much for you.

“As long as it takes.” Liu Kang replied, with a tone of finality. Back then, those words were like a death sentence. Nowadays, you realized it had been a blessing in disguise. You try not to think of how long those days felt, constantly being shadowed by one of the Lin Kuei brothers or even Madam Bo. It was painful to think of, some days. But then again, it wasn’t all bad.

After all, that’s the main reason you had gotten closer with all of them.

Kuai Liang had been helpful, giving you advice and being there at your aid any time you needed. He had been a good person to confide in, for he never shamed you for the worries you carried. He was a gentle flame, providing the warmth you did not know you needed in your life.

Tomas had been a welcoming presence, giving you laughs and joy in a situation where you struggled. He was much more playful than his brothers, and the dreary days were always made a bit bright with him around. He had been encouraging too in his own ways, telling you that being vulnerable was okay. You were okay.

The other two were a bit more harsh. Madam Bo had given you harsh lectures, but in a loving way. You could tell you had terrified her with your decline in health. Those days she had given you so much food you felt often full. You were happy though, her cooking really was the best. Eventually you had learned some cooking from her to pass the time.

You still had to learn how to perfect her recipes.

Bi-Han’s shadowing at first was easily the worst. Days that felt like were filled with tension, some days you felt like you could not breathe. Then, some other days it felt like you would rather be asleep with the rants he had given you, telling you on how you should have listened to him. Eventually, the frost around the situation melted, and the days went from tense and dreadful with him, to more comforting.

Eventually he became a person you learned the world through, as begrudging as it was, he answered your many questions. And when your questions ceased, the two of you could turn to occasional conversation, ones where you both were a little more open with each other, a bit more honest. Even the silences began to feel comforting.

Occasionally, Liu Kang would take over shadowing you. It wasn’t as common as the other four, but it happened often enough. At first, you were filled with guilt whenever you were around him. You had failed the fire god, but he had told you that you did no such thing.

“I have failed you, instead.”

It mystified you, but you chose not to question it. You weren’t certain what you’d do with the answers to the questions you had about that statement. You ended up developing most of your healthy habits with Liu Kang, falling into a simple routine. You ended up developing the habit of watching the sunrise with him during these times.

Days had blended into weeks, and weeks into months, and you slowly were allowed your responsibilities again. You had been allowed to train much earlier than your responsibilities so your body would not weaken, but the responsibilities felt much more significant.

Slowly, you were given room to breathe and develop your own routine. One that was…less rigorous, one that everyone agreed that was healthy and safe for you.

You guessed your inability to relax was still a remnant of the insatiable workaholic from back then. Your mind was filled once again with responsibilities, plans, and schedules. Training the champions, the tournament…so many big things to worry about.

You worried that you didn’t have time to do everything if you relaxed, and you knew how important these tasks that were ahead of you were.

It was almost instinct to dive into everything, try to take the burden of everyone and force it upon yourself.

You were really trying though, to relax. You couldn’t bear to see the concerned looks on their faces again.

“You know, you’re doing an awful job at taking a break.” Johnny pointed out as he pulled up next to you, snapping you out of your reverie. You watched with curiosity as he pulled out his phone. You had vague memories of technology from what you presumed to be your past life, but you haven’t really used it in this life.

“I’m just watching, is that so wrong?” You inquired, trying and failing to fend off the defensive side that tried to come out. You sent him a raised eyebrow, looking at him. He sent you the sassiest look, peering at you.

“No.” He said, shrugging as he returned his attention back to his phone. “But I can see that calculating look in your eye, teach.” Johnny said, tapping the side of his head with his two fingers. “You’re not just idly watching, you’re thinking. That’s the same look my directors get when they’re reviewing a scene, and trust me, that’s anything but relaxing.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. As much as others thought otherwise, Johnny Cage was smart and observant.

“Plus, when people usually say they’re taking a break they’re usually off doing their, like, hobbies or something.” Johnny continued, pausing for a moment before looking back at you. “You do have hobbies right?”

“I refuse to elaborate.” You said after a few moments of contemplation. You really couldn’t think of anything that was a hobby of yours. Sure, you liked to cook, but that wasn’t a hobby you found yourself doing all too often outside of meal times.

The only other thing you could think of that you did often was try and make sense of your memories. And that was something you could do for hours on end. But it was all too confusing, and it gave you a major headache. Aside from the fact that you didn’t exactly want to think of those memories right now, you had a feeling that also didn’t count as relaxing.

So your next best bet at doing something to relax was watching the students of the Wu Shi academy train.

Were you really that boring?

“You…don’t have hobbies?” Johnny asked, pulling a face that made you frown. “No wonder you’re struggling to relax.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. You had an urge to defend yourself, but you averted your eyes instead, knowing that trying to defend yourself was fruitless. You really didn’t have anything to defend yourself with in the first place.

“Living a life like mine leaves little time for hobbies.” You said, which was partially a lie. You had time, and lots of it before you were entrusted with training the four of them. So you certainly could have picked up some hobbies.

But you never knew what to do. There weren’t many people in the Fire Temple who had hobbies you could indulge in, and it wasn’t like you were too close with them either. And, oddly enough, you were a bit embarrassed to ask the Lin Kuei brothers for any ideas on hobbies.

Plus, it was annoying trekking through the snow just to ask for something small like that.

“Okay, so hobbies are out of the question, got it.” Johnny said, before humming and looking up, contemplating over things. “Don’t you have anything else to do, like reading, or watching movies?” He suggested.

“I’ve read all the books they have in the Fire Temple, they’re pretty boring and not worth a reread.” You said, sighing as you remembered the lack of interesting literature. You’ve thought about asking Liu Kang for the chance to get better reading material, but you didn’t want to sound…rude. “And I’ve never watched a movie.”

That wasn’t totally true, you’ve probably watched a movie in your past life, but you’ve never done that in this life.

“You’ve never…what?” Johnny Cage said, seeming to be caught off guard by the confession. You’ve never seen such a look on his face before, one that was both shocked and almost…offended? You supposed it only made sense that he out of everyone reacted this way. Acting was his lifeblood. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not.” You said, raising your hands up trying to show no offense. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the look Johnny was sending you. He was so,,,expressive. It was really entertaining. Is that why people liked watching him so much?

“We’ve got to right that wrong immediately.” Johnny said, a determined look on his face. He shoved his phone into his pocket. “We’re going to have a movie marathon. You get to relax and see a bunch of great movies, win-win.” The actor declared.

“A bunch of great movies, huh?” Kenshi said, approaching the two of you as he sheathed his sword. He looked between the two of you, sending a pointed look towards Johnny Cage. “I’m guessing you’re going to try and show our instructor a bunch of your movies, Cage?”

“You know it, tattoo.” Johnny confirmed with a self confident smirk. You nodded towards Kenshi, who acknowledged it back with a nod of his own. “Don’t look so prissy, you and the farmer boys are invited too if you want.” You glanced towards Kenshi, raising an eyebrow out of curiosity.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Kenshi conceded, much to your surprise. “I get to help pick the movies, though. We’re not watching a marathon of the Ninja Priest movies, they’re all the same.” You watched as Johnny groaned, clearly disagreeing with the swordsman.

“Whatever, you just have bad taste.” The actor huffed, rolling his eyes. He took out a paper and pen from gods knew where, and tossed it towards Kenshi who sent him a puzzled look. “Go design whatever list you want, just know I’ll be blaming you if teach over here,” He gestured towards you, “thinks movies suck.” He stretched before pointing his thumb away from the courtyard. “Now I gotta bounce, gotta make arrangements to make this whole shebang work.” He turned towards you. “You go figure out how to relax, or whatever, meet here tomorrow night.”

And without much more explanation, the actor jogged off, leaving both you and Kenshi behind.

“What did I just get myself into?”

“I’m surprised you’ve never seen a movie.” Raiden commented after he and Kung Lao met you at the entrance of the Wu Shi academy. He and Kung Lao walked beside you as you traversed down the hall, dressed in more casual clothes as opposed to the uniforms they usually wore. With amusement, you noticed how they were not wearing the hats for once. The clothes they wore reminded you of the clothes they donned during the exams.

“In the Fire Temple, we don’t have much, if any, technology.” You explained, not elaborating much further. After all, it’d be hard to explain the whole ‘you might have watched one in a past life, but you barely remembered anything about it’ ordeal. “Johnny seemed very offended that I’ve never watched one, it was a sight to behold.”

“It makes sense, that is what he is known for.” Kung Lao pointed out, shrugging.

“Have either of you seen Johnny Cage’s works?” You inquired, looking between the Fengjian men. You were a bit surprised that they knew about movies, knowing that they both hailed from a simple village. Then again, you supposed you were being hasty in assuming their area was as technology deprived as the Fire Temple was.

“A few.” Kung Lao answered, thinking a bit before grinning. “Their techniques were totally wrong, but they sure do know how to make something entertaining.” He admitted before cockily laughing and pressing a hand to his chest. “Of course, I think if I were there to help them, they would be much better.”

“I saw a few as well.” Raiden piped up, smiling towards you. “They were flashy, and like Kung Lao said, very inaccurate, but I actually enjoyed watching them.” He put on a thoughtful look. “I think you’ll like them too, as long as you look past the technicalities.”

“I hope so too.” You said, humming. “Otherwise this would be a rather bad introduction to movies.” You joked, knowing that you could probably look past the most egregious techniques. All you wanted was a chance to relax, and you hoped to the gods that this was going to work.

“Fret not, teach, I made sure to look through Ken-bro’s list.” Johnny said as he turned the corner, a grand grin on his face. “He chose a few decent ones, but I made sure to add the best of my works in there too.” In his arms he held a large of what you believed to be popcorn. You inhaled, and you felt a bit nostalgic for a reason you weren’t quite sure.

“I tried to keep the list decent, so don’t blame me if Cage ruined it.” Kenshi quipped as he also rounded the corner, holding another big bowl of popcorn. You looked between them, noting how this was the first time you’ve seen both Johnny and Kenshi were something more casual. It wasn’t too bad of a look.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You said, grinning as you crossed your arms. The actor led all of you to a room you knew had not been previously used much. “You’ve all brought up my expectations, are films really that good?”

“Oh trust me, films can get good, especially action films I’ve been in.” Johnny cackled, and you stifled a laugh as you noticed how the group had all collectively rolled their eyes. He opened the door for you all. You marveled at the projector that had been set up, along with a basic couch that seemed big enough for you all to lounge on, more or less. “Hollywood magic will astound you, trust me.”

“I’m already astounded by all of this.” You admit, walking over to the projector. Seeing technology sent a wave of nostalgia through you, and you smiled. Something about this all brought a hazy vision of you and Johnny sitting in a room doing something similar to this, but there had been four other younger people with you instead.

How odd.

“Where did you get all of this?” Raiden asked, looking at the set up of the room. “I don’t think the monks normally have any of this stuff,” He observed as he made his way to the couch. “Well, maybe the couch makes sense.” He said, before sitting on it carefully.

“It’s a secret, my friend.” The actor replied, and you all sent him a look. He groaned and sighed. “You’re all no fun. I asked the big boss, Lord Liu Kang.” He said, shrugging as he also took his place on the couch, on the other end of the couch. “I explained how our instructor was struggling to relax and how I pitched a movie night to you. He seemed pleased by the idea, and was willing to give me all of this stuff.”

You were surprised. Liu Kang was the one who helped Johnny out? The idea of it made you feel warm.

“Lord Liu Kang did all of this?” Kung Lao echoed your thoughts, nodding slowly as he looked around. He put on a face that told you he seemed to approve, and plopped down right next to Raiden. You found yourself not knowing where to sit, before Kenshi stepped beside you and tilted his head to indicate the spot where you should go.

Right between where he would go and Johnny Cage.

You supposed that wasn’t too bad.

Taking the advice, you walked over to the spot he suggested and sat yourself carefully, making sure to leave room for Kenshi, while making sure you didn’t intrude on Johnny’s.

“Popcorn?” Johnny offered, holding the bowl out to you. As he did so, you noticed as he turned on the movie, it starting the movie which seemed to be labeled “Ninja Mime”. Shrugging, you took a small handful, popping the food into your mouth.

This was going to be interesting, wasn’t it?

“Wow, that was…amazing.”

“See! I told you, Hollywood magic.” Johnny Cage said, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he looked over to you. You rolled your eyes but nodded, conceding to the fact that you had honestly enjoyed seeing the film. It was goofy, wacky, and just the thing you needed.

“If you think that’s good, you should watch other types of movies.” Kung Lao piped up, before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. He had stolen the bowl from Kenshi shortly after the movie started, taking most of the buttery goodness for himself. You watched with silent amusement as Raiden sneakily stole a handful. “Comedies, romances, there’s more than just Johnny’s actions.”

“Why would anyone need to watch anything but my movies?” Johnny bragged, earning silence and stares from the group, mostly from Kenshi. He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, but other types of movies are for another night.” He said, waving off the silent complaints.

“We’ll have another night?” You inquired, peering at the actor with a curious look. He grinned and shrugged.

“As long as you let us, teach.” The American said, before gesturing to the projector. “First, we gotta go through the list we made first.” You watched as Johnny got up to set up the next movie. Kenshi leaned over, looking at you with a small smile.

“The next movie is going to be better, trust me.” The swordsman told you, a slight tone of playfulness in his voice. “I made sure to also introduce you to some of Cage’s better works.” You raised an eyebrow, surprised at the fact that the man was even a fan of Johnny’s works in the first place.

“I’ll be sure to hold my expectations high then.” You replied back. sending the man a small smile as you took yet another handful of popcorn. It was almost addicting to eat alongside the movie. “How many movies are we watching?” You asked, suddenly aware of the time that had passed as you spied the clock that hung on the wall.

An hour and a half passed? That movie felt like mere minutes!

“I believe we’re watching two more, including the next one.” Raiden informed you, leaning forward to look at you. “Johnny wanted to do a bigger marathon, but Kenshi and I advocated that we only do three since you haven’t watched many and we weren’t sure if you would like them all.”

“Next time, let Raiden and I pick some movies, too.” Kung Lao also mentioned, looking back to the actor who had just finished swapping the movies.

“As long as your choices don’t suck.” Johnny said before plopping down next to you. He spread out, his thigh touching yours, but you didn’t quite mind. “Alright, buckle up, time to start the next one.”

That night was the first time in a long time you remembered drifting off to sleep on accident.

You felt something shift, and you were pulled out of the arms of sleep. Yawning, you covered your mouth as you looked around. The projector was running the last bits of a movie you had no recollection of. You blinked as you also registered how you were leaning on someone.

Looking up, you were surprised to see Kenshi sleeping peacefully, allowing you to have rest on him. Or had he fallen asleep first? Your memory was hazy. Either way, you felt oddly embarrassed that you had fallen asleep during the event the men had created for you, but also grateful they had let you rest. You leaned forward, and you saw Kung Lao and Raiden who had also fallen asleep.

Oddly enough, Johnny was nowhere to be seen.

Carefully moving so you did not disturb the sleeping men, you stood up, trying to catch your bearings. You looked up, noting the clock you had seen earlier.

It was an hour before sunrise.

You stretched, letting out another yawn before you looked around once more. The popcorn bowls were gone, and the room seemed generally clean. You walked towards the door of the room, before it swung open to reveal Johnny Cage.

In his arms were blankets and some pillows. You blinked in surprise, and so did he before he let out a small chuckle.

“Finally woke up?” He asked, a slight teasing tone in his voice. “You know, you fell asleep during the best one.”

“Ah, I’m sorry.” You apologized, crossing your arms as you tried to cover up your embarrassment. It was odd, this type of thing never happened. It was weird to have slept so easily, and on accident. “I usually don’t fall asleep that easily, it’s odd.”

“Nah, I’m just kidding. You actually stayed up to watch all of the movies we had planned, then you knocked out.” The actor informed you as he walked over to set down the blankets on the couch. “We just decided to make a bet of who could stay up the longest, and I won.” The man bragged smugly, “I was just getting some blankets and pillows for you, actually.” He explained, gesturing to the items he brought. “But judging how you’re awake now, you don’t need them.”

“I thank you for the pillows and blankets, but you’re right, I don’t need them now.” You said, chuckling. “I’ll be going back to the Fire Temple.” You informed him. You gestured to the others. “What about them?”

“Eh, I’ll just wake them up and send them back to their rooms.” Johnny said, shrugging. “So, what’d you think of movies? Still amazing, right?” He asked, confidence dripping from his tone. And while you were tempted to lie to knock down his ego, you knew better than that.

“They were all lovely.” You admitted, and paused for a few moments, staring at the projection as the credits scrolled by. “Thank you, Johnny. I really needed this.” You told him, a tone of sincerity in your voice. You were really grateful. “It was fun.”

“Anytime, wildstyle.” The actor brushed off your thanks with a wide grin. You raised an eyebrow at the new nickname, thinking it was probably linked to your shapeshifting powers. He had such an interesting imagination. “Just remember this when I talk to you next time about acting, yeah?”

“I will.” You promised. You looked back at the sleeping men for another moment, taking note to thank them for also helping to make this wonderful night happen next time you saw them. “Goodnight, Johnny.” You said as you exited the room, and you heard with simple satisfaction as Johnny bid you goodnight too.

Obnoxious as the actor could be sometimes, he had an honest heart. You understood a bit more why Johnny was chosen to be a champion. You’d have to repay his kindness.

The air was crisp and cool, and as you made your way to the Fire Temple, you could not help but think back to the movies you had seen. What entertaining bits of work! You chuckled to yourself as you mentally commended Johnny on his acting too.

You’d never let him know that you actually thought he was an excellent actor, though.

As you crossed the bridge to the Fire Temple, you blinked in surprise as you saw Liu Kang idly waiting by, seeming to have expected you. You walked towards him, a bit uncertain whether he needed you urgently or not.

“How was your movie night?” The fire god asked, after greeting you with your name. You smiled. Ah, he was just curious about how it went. You went on to ramble about the movies you had seen, talking for a while about them and your newfound fascination with them. Liu Kang listened diligently, a warm smile on his face as he nodded and acknowledged your words. “I’m glad to hear it went well.”

Liu Kang was a good listener.

“Yeah, I think I really needed it.” You admitted, looking up to the sky which was losing its dark color, the beginnings of the sunrise appearing. You two stayed there in silence, basking in the comfortable atmosphere. “Thank you, by the way. I heard from Johnny that you helped get everything for him.”

“It’s no issue.” The protector of Earthrealm told you warmly, looking at you with fondness. “I would do anything for you.”

The way Liu Kang said those words, there felt like there was a hint of something else within his words that made you feel warm, much like the fire he wielded.

“Thank you.” You said, not knowing how to follow up his heartfelt words. You looked up to the sky for a few more moments, before sighing. You felt oddly tired. “I’m going to go and sleep in today, I think.” You told the god, who simply nodded in return. He seemed to approve of your decision, if the smile on his face indicated anything. “Goodnight, Liu Kang.”

“Goodnight. Sleep well.”

part seven

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octuscle · 8 months

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my asian jock friend, putra made me a card labeling me "good boy"......wtf is this?

Every school has a Putra, right? The one who's the lad everyone's secretly in love with. The lad whose smile melts the freshmen and the seniors, the cafeteria cooks and the teachers. Putra is the star of the swim team. Putra is best gymnast in the school. Putra dances like a young god.

For most, however, Putra is unattainable. He is friendly and polite to everyone. But at the same time completely unapproachable. No one has ever seen him making out and holding hands with a girl. Or with a boy. Putra talks about his dream of becoming a policeman, he talks about the soccer club he is a fan of. And there is hardly a person who pines for him as much as you do. Because you know something that no one else does: Putra would love to hold hands and make out. And that with a man. With the man of his dreams. And as unfortunate as that is for you and also for him: You are not that. You are a couch potato. You are cautious and introverted. You are a aesthete. Hell, you have many good qualities. But you are not the man of Pura's dreams.

And now you hold this card in your hand. "Good Boy." Nothing else. "Good Boy." The back is blank. The card made of heavy black cardboard with gold lettering. "Good Boy." You recognize his handwriting. You've tutored him often enough to recognize it. He's obviously put a lot of effort into it. You need to keep working on your term paper now. The card is stuck in the keyboard. "Good Boy." Damn it, you have to concentrate. The term paper has to be handed in by midnight. With your nose close to the keyboard, you notice that there is a smell coming from the card. The card is perfumed. But with a strange perfume… It smells like a burnt lunch. Strange spices. Rubber. There are lots of smells mixed together… You have to put the card somewhere else. With the smell in your nose, you can't concentrate at all. But the smell is somehow… hypnotizing. You take the card to your nose and breathe deeply. Fuck the term paper. Fuck the report cards. Yes, the card stinks. But still you love that smell, it's Putra's smell. Mysterious, a little wild, a little rebellious. That's who you'd be. That would be a good boy. With one hand you start massaging your cock. With the other hand you move the mouse over the desktop. Fuck, the term paper is good enough as it is. My God, it's about passing. Nothing more. You need porn now. Hot men sucking each other's dicks. As you do so, you imagine working Putra's cock with your tongue.

Your cell phone vibrates. A message from Putra. His cock is so hard and he imagines you licking his balls. Putra is a perverted sow. But you understand each other without words. But with hard pictures. You send him a picture of you jerking your cock. He asks since when you wear a PA. Hehehe, you answer that he never asked. Fuck, jerking off and chatting at the same time is really difficult. The phone rings. Putra. You put it on speakerphone. He asks you moaning if you are a good boy. You answer that you are horny and hard at the moment. But definitely not a good boy. Hehehe, replies Putra. There are already two of you. Fuck, you say, why isn't he here so you can suck his balls. Putra says that it is really difficult when you visit your family in China. Shit, you didn't want to fly. But you are a good boy, family is important. Dude, without you it's a disaster here, you answer. You are bored to death. Putra answers that he feels the same way. He jerks off three times a day to distract himself. Hehehe, you answer, in the future please only together. Fuck, you're almost ready. From the other end of the line you hear only a moan and then a loud "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck". Shit, you blow your load all over your face. Your mother calls from the next room, whether everything is okay. You answer in your best Cantonese that you're just playing a video game. Putra laughs on the other end of the line.

You go into the bathroom, wipe the cum off your face and chest, and switch to video. Honey, you already know I have a paper due. Putra replies that you're both going to college on athletic scholarships anyway, so you shouldn't make such a fuss. You laugh and say that at least you have to send the file. Putra gives you a kiss through the cell phone and says that he has to take a shower now, he has to go to the gym right away. Shitty time difference. You give him a kiss back and ask who is a good boy. He laughs and says that you are a good boy.

Pics found at @2-otoko, @nervousconnoisseursublime and @slutty-milan

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #male transformation #muscle transformation #race change

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 1 month

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I came out as transfem to my friends a couple months ago, but every now and then I feel like I'm faking it. But when I'm called by my preferred name, my heart starts racing and I get a little smile.

Is this a normal thing?

Lee says:

Experiencing feelings of doubt or questioning like you're "faking it" can be part of the process for many people as they explore their gender identity.

This doesn't invalidate your experiences or your identity; sometimes it's a reflection of navigating a complex personal journey within a society that has rigid norms about gender.

Having doubts is normal, and many people who come out as trans continue to identify as trans throughout their lives, even if they initially had some discomfort getting used to their new identity and occasionally felt like they were faking it.

There are also some folks who feel like they're faking it and while they may not be intentionally faking an identity, that kernel of discomfort and wrongness may be a clue that something isn't quite right yet, whether it's their particular label, their gender expression, their pronouns, or their feelings about the gender roles they feel pressure to inhabit. I'm not saying that this is the case for you-- it seems like it likely isn't-- but I do feel that it's also important to acknowledge that not everyone who questions their gender will ultimately identify as transgender.

There should be no shame in questioning your gender, trying on new labels for a while, even coming out to friends to see how it feels to use the new label/pronouns/name, etc but ultimately reidentifying. The process of exploring one's gender identity is deeply personal and unique to each individual and there's nothing wrong with someone realizing that they aren't trans after all.

I'm writing all of that because I think this type of ask is often sent by folks wanting to know whether what they're feeling is normal because they're seeking reassurance that they're trans.

But we're not really here to reassure you that you're trans. We don't know you! Only you know your gender. If I tried to reassure you by saying "oh yeah I know for sure that you're trans, don't worry!" it would be beyond my scope as someone who is not-you.

I can tell you that it's normal to feel that way, that many other trans folks have felt that way, and that you will find your path eventually. It can be hard to figure it all out, but don't stress! Everyone always seems to have this super big sense of internal urgency, but it's okay to not be 100% certain of your gender identity, and to feel that way for months or even years.

Be patient with yourself. Understanding your gender identity is a journey, and it's okay to take your time. There's no rush to figure everything out immediately or to fit into any particular box. Trust yourself, and allow your journey to unfold in a way that feels authentic to you. All that being said, your current identity is valid, regardless of whether it shifts over time.

It's super common to have feelings of doubt and wrongness and feelings of faking it at the start of a transition, and that doesn't necessarily have to overshadow the joy and happiness that you experience when you're called by your preferred name. That gender euphoria you described is super real!

Seeking support can be incredibly helpful. This might include talking to friends who understand and support your journey, joining support groups for people exploring their gender identity, or finding a therapist who specializes in gender identity issues. These resources can provide a space to discuss your feelings, explore your identity, and receive support from others who have had similar experiences. Your feelings and experiences are real, and they deserve acknowledgment and respect.

Anons say:

(See follow-up post here!)

#Lee says #trans #questioning #faking it #identity

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dovand · 4 months

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i am as always thinking about 14 and the nobles... specifically 14 & shaun. CRIMINAL lack of 14 & shaun content . excuse me that is my emotional support deranged lovers-in-law prongs of a queerplatonic throuple V. that is my little scrinkly wet cat and his chill saint bernard friend. that is my symbiotic relationship weirdos who sleep back-to-back to 14 can a) leech his body heat b) cuddle donna c) not fall off the bed. that is my favourite “both wake up early but one of them is being clung to like they are a teddy bear and it is Not Shaun, who is making ‘too bad’ faces at 14 and tiptoeing away” dynamic.

(14 either ends up dozing again after he wakes up early or just lays there curled up thinking—but, either way, when shaun shows up with breakfast in bed every sunday, he is treated to the beautiful sight of the two huge autism creature eyes peering up at him from behind the most bedraggled mop of hair ever seen. whether there are any thoughts behind those eyes depends on whether their owner has been napping or Pondering)

(yes this is all made up in my head!!! yes i am dismayed by there only being FOUR FICS (4!!) using it as a tag and none of them (afaict) doing it in a qpr way. where is my deranged weirdplatonic polycule!!!)

further insanity under the cut pleasseee please please read. please i need to be insane about this with people

(also btw this post is about queerplatonic doctordonna, doctordonna shippers i love you and you are welcome to contribute but it is a Little squicky for me so if tag ur additions (so i have a heads-up) that would be so lovely and i would adore you forever <3)

shaun likes listening to people ramble and 14 likes rambling so it is a regular occurrence to find the two of them like. standing in the kitchen holding cups of tea except one of them is actually drinking the tea and one of them is talking too rapidly about equivalent exchange to remember to blink, let alone have a sip of earl gray that has veered violently past lukewarm and is headed straight for room temperature

if 14 is in a not-wordy mood tho… thru shaun’s expert tutelage he has mastered the art of the Dad Nod. he passes shaun in the hall and gives him a little nod. shaun gives him one back. 0 words are spoken but they understand each other on a deeper level than if there had been.

they go on a Family Outing to a thrift store. rose and donna disappear to the dressier sections. shaun creeps along the racks of trousers, solemnly comparing seemingly identical pairs of jeans. 14 follows him and stares for a while, then silently hands him a loudly patterned pair of shorts. shaun takes them without question and adds them to his basket & sylvia loses her mind just a little bit when she sees him wearing them

(^ this inspired by going thrifting w my friend and looking @ everything and then finding her dad looking thru the racks of shorts comparing two beige ones, and my friend handing him a pair of pink shorts with penguins on and him buying them. because he has some . i think plaid shorts? at home and when he wore them his wife said he looked gay. so he’s trying to do it More) (it's an incredible family dynamic there. i have no idea what is going on)

god jesus. 14 learns how to cook so he can be the housething (as opposed to housewife or househusband. he is just a weirdgenderthing. little creature). someone buys him a nice apron and he wears it with so much delight. chases everyone else out of the kitchen so he can concoct something lovely. runs out into the garden to stick something into an oven in the tardis kitchen because “i am not working with enough ovens, here, people!”. organises the pantry and gets this crazed look if anyone tries to stop him. “how will i know where things a—” “it will be LABELLED.” brandishes a label maker that DEFINITELY is not from modern-day earth given that it seems to take dictation as input and can print in colour and has not needed a refill of paper even though he has extensively labelled EVERY PLASTIC BOX of stuff in the pantry

sometimes he gets into Moods where he needs to solve a problem before it makes his head explode and that used to be a like. tinkering in the tardis thing. where he’d have himself and whatever poor companion he was with just floating in the time vortex for a week while he tries to make this bit of the tardis do what he wants it to. now it’s a day or two spent almost entirely in the kitchen trying to find the scientifically optimal method by which to make meringues. he starts gesturing dramatically with a spatula forgetting it is not a sonic screwdriver. makes a sonic spatula. realises he doesn’t often need to like. scan a pancake for malware. sadly puts the sonic spatula away

he is absolutely a nightmare to watch movies with btw bc a) can’t sit still b) so tall. either he is bouncing his leg and shaking the whole couch or he is stretched out across the entire sofa. no in between. donna buys a thick rug so he can just lay on the floor. the rug is TOO comfortable and he starts just spending time laying on the floor which would be fine if he thought to turn the lights on because people keep almost stepping on him while he’s having 4am Floor Time (on the nights he's not drooling all over donna's pillow)

if anyone else has thoughts about Them PLEASe share i will love you so much and forever. doctor~donna/shaun weirdcule is the only thing in my head

#me.txt #doctor who #14th doctor #doctordonna #donna noble #this is ALMOST fic but not quite. i feel like i should tag it something specific #doctor who headcanon #that works i think

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itsclydebitches · 1 year

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Does everyone know that one found family post going around that's something like, "What do you MEAN they all go their separate ways after the journey??"

That's how I feel about Ted going back to Kansas.

To be clear, I'm not arguing that it's an unlikely ending to the series. I think it's very likely, especially when I consider a lot of the cool meta people have been writing lately, but that likeliness leaves a sour taste in my mouth because what's waiting for Ted in Kansas? "Henry!" the fandom cries and yes, obviously, but that doesn't feel like enough to me (which I realize sounds like a callous statement regarding a father and son, but hear me out). The only other things Kansas has are an ex-wife, a horrifically unprofessional step-dad in the making, and a long line of comforts that Ted has outgrown. I've noticed that this season in particular Ted has been moving away from his American roots: he misses his BBQ sauce but manages to find a perfect replacement in Amsterdam, he's finding solace in paintings for temporary homesickness, he's using "football" and "maths" naturally in conversation, many of his speeches lately have been about how he once WAS this American so-and-so but has changed significantly since then. From a canonical perspective, Henry is the only thing in Kansas that's good for Ted anymore and even if we put that aside for a moment (which I don't think we should) it seems quite significant to me that Ted has spent three successful years parenting from across the pond.

Is that ideal? No, but Ted Lasso hasn't gone out of its way to paint this separation as a failure, or a crippling blow to Ted or Henry, despite them obviously missing each other a great deal at times. I'll admit that this aspect is absolutely colored by my own bias. As someone who doesn't want kids herself, I dislike the implicit message that a parent must give up everything they want/need in order to be 100% available to their child. I'm of the belief that there's a big difference between loving/raising your child and lacking a life outside of them because Every Aspect of Your Existence Must Serve Their Direct Needs Until the Magical Age of 18, so I've never jived with the "Ted is a horrible father who abandoned Henry!" takes. Not just because I think the show has made it clear that Henry doesn't feel abandoned, but because it tells viewers that parents can't have anything for themselves once they've brought a life into this world... which feels pretty shitty to me. Thus, that whole Henry-based argument rings as unpersuasive both from my biased perspective and a canonical perspective: "In order to be labeled a good father Ted MUST go back to Henry in Kansas, leaving behind every bond he's formed here, despite the fact that he's spent a significant amount of time making this long-distance relationship work really, really well."

Putting Henry aside and going back to my original point above, sending Ted to Kansas requires the audience to imagine up a life for him that has never existed on screen. Sure, we can assume that Ted will form new bonds and rekindle old ones there, but that would exist entirely off screen. Like the story that asks you to ignore the family that's been built right in front of you in favor of the headcanoned one that the characters are separating for, a Kansas ending would ask us to toss aside three seasons worth of family, community, and still developing relationships for... whatever it is we'd personally imagine up post-series. Audiences (by and large) don't WANT their protagonist to end up with [insert OCs here], they want them to stay with the developed cast, whether that's a romance, a friendship, or a family. To me, there's nothing satisfying about imagining Ted in a location the series has never explored with people who don't exist yet except for, as said, an ex, a man who justifiably makes him incredibly uncomfortable, and his child whom he already has a fantastic relationship with in the community where Ted is happy.

There are a lot of other reasons why this ending would be a big disappointment to me, most notably the rejection of untraditional forms of parenting + the message that Ted was always destined to "reset," returning to precisely where he started out, like he's just a hope dispenser who isn't allowed to significantly grow himself. Sure, you can divorce and get better about managing your anxiety... but making a permanent, positive life change? Nah, let's act like this is an episodic show and toss you back to the beginning. I've seen a couple of people compare Ted to Mary Poppins and while a part of my does like that connection, another part cringes at the idea of him playing the role of magical benefactor, his own future happiness deemed insignificant compared to the lives he's already changed. Thanks for the help, Ted! Hope you manage to find some more happiness for yourself back among everything you've spent the series leaving behind. Open your umbrella and let the wind take you; wherever you land and how hard the fall is doesn't matter because the show is over.

So there's a lot going on for me, however, the found family bit is where I'm truly stuck. You're really going to build up this community and Ted's place in it for three seasons, moving him from "wanker" all the way to beloved coach, only to pack him back to Kansas after he's finally carved out a place for himself? Kansas, the place the show has consistently argued has nothing to offer Ted except for the child he hasn't actually lost? Yeah no, sorry, I'm not a fan.

Which doesn't mean I think Ted Lasso is going to become a terrible show if they choose this - again, very likely - ending... but I will personally be pulling a Nick Fury about it.

#Ted Lasso #mymetas

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hwajin · 10 months

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☆°. — 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 : ᴏᴄʜɪsɪᴀ

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, smut

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x fem!reader

𝐰𝐜: 10.1k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: big break up (👀), a bit of swearing, unprotected sex, implications of cumming inside, oral (f receiving), painful angst etc etc!! this is a LONG one and i hope you'll like it!! i eat up every bit of feedback!! the next chapter will be the final one so i wanna thank everyone already who has been reading and reblogging this series 🫶🫶

series masterlist | final chapter

You and Hyunjin were friends. The label all but feeling foreign to you now, everything but scary; a few weeks ago it would have been frightening. Holding stable contact with the man wasn’t a hard task if you’d call it one in the first place – not long after the first introductory words and small talk was done, when the basics of a persona had been revealed your conversation had flowed naturally, as though friends for decades. It was as easy talking, texting and calling him as it was when you had first exchanged numbers – when Hyunjin had looked up your number in his system, that is. You enjoyed time when it meant spending it with him, even if you didn’t meet up physically. Hearing his voice over the speaker was calming, often fun – Hyunjin bore a kind of humour that you deemed only came out when he found himself in comfort, not intentionally comedic, simply naturally witty; you never missed a day giggling about whatever with him.

Often it was relaxing. You weren’t always talking when on the phone. Sometimes your words would fade into a comfortable silence and the only sound you’d hear from Hyunjin’s end of the speaker was pencil on paper, or brushes against a glass of water to wash off the previous colours. You’d often ask about his art, whether he was an artist to show it around or one that shied away from the attention towards his pieces; if you could ever catch a glimpse at them. He had argued that, considering it his wanted career, he needed to be brave enough to showcase his work and to accept critique for it – so yes, he’d be ready to show you, if you only asked.

Moments like those, the ones you spent in silence, in a comfortable one that only established itself between good friends and over time, it seemed, felt the most sinful, though disguising as the most innocent. When you weren’t meeting each other physically, and when you barely talked – when in fact, it seemed like you shared the least amount of contact it felt utterly shameful. Because it was intimate. Because it was more than any physical connection could ever build, you thought. Because in moments like those you could be vulnerable, existing in each other’s presence, if only in thought. Allowing yourself for them to wander, allowing sole silence to settle between you. It felt worse than any physical cheating could ever feel.

But then again, it was platonic. You argued it was, internally. You have met once or twice in the store, unintentionally – you had both needed groceries, and had stayed a bit to chat. It had evoked nostalgia, when you’d remembered it was the first place of your meeting. You had talked like friends would when crossing paths without planning to, had laughed and paid at the register together before making your ways home. And yet you had a feeling within that didn’t mimic friendship, that felt somewhat foreign yet strangely and wholly familiar. It was comforting, rather than butterflies that swarmed in the lower pit of your stomach it felt like waves of soft waters, ones you’d lay atop on when visiting a beach. Every conversation with Hyunjin – the physical ones more than the ones when you called, or merely texted – felt like water carrying your body weightlessly; utterly calming, silent, longing. You often tried to ignore it to your best abilities whenever it evoked, but it was not deniable eventually that whatever was developing between the two of you was maybe, just maybe, more than what you’d call a sheer friendship. Because you truly shouldn’t feel as excited, as happy and curious about another man you claimed to be simply acquainted with.

Speaking of, you were everything but keeping Hyunjin a secret from Chan. Despite your situation, dilemma – however you wished to call it, certainly not an easy turn of events, surely – you didn’t have the heart to give up on Chan, not that easily. You had promised to try, and he had too – which all but meant a sudden careless relationship. Arguments occurred, still, ones you didn’t seem to grow out of. Over little things, over bigger things both of you deemed important – Hyunjin was a subject of said disputes, more often than not. You felt guilty, surely, for feeling as content with him as you did. Though you had often argued that you wouldn’t tolerate jealousy from Chan in that matter. You said there wasn’t a reason for Chan to grow protective if you were the very person to admit you and Hyunjin being friends; which in no way was forbidden, Seungmin and you were too, after all; you found it childish thinking of every member of the opposite sex as a potential threat to a relationship, which Chan reluctantly agreed on. You were aware that you weren’t fully honest, not truly, that you were sinning in one way or another – you weren’t cheating, were far from it, and you’d never stoop so low – before anything possibly developed, you’d be the first to break it off with Chan. Yet you weren’t lying when you had promised to try again, to not give up the year long relationship you had been building, had honest intentions in that matter – if anything, you were thoroughly conflicted. Staying with Chan to observe, to see if your bond would reconnect, yet befriending Hyunjin to yet grasp if he was a good match, a better than Chan maybe, altogether; it drained you, internally.

And faster than you could look, four weeks had passed since you had been in the library, since you had lent out the book you were supposed to bring in sooner or later. You had enjoyed reading, had remembered Hyunjin all the while – recalling he had read the book as well, wondering his thoughts on an impactful passage or a nice message you’d read. You enjoyed that you had similar taste – momentarily drawing the comparison that you and Chan could never bond over factors like these, your taste in literature and similar arts fundamentally different. It had never been an obstacle in your relationship, though having another person to enjoy the same things as you did was comforting, you couldn’t lie.

One o’clock on a Monday, and you were excited when you stood before the library, approaching the familiar wooden door. It looked heavy, was heavier when you pulled on it; it opened with a thick creaking, one that dared to disturb the entire quiet of such a silent space. The smell of books filled your senses momentarily, and though the place was utterly clean small particles of dust reflected in the rays of the sun and danced a dance you disturbed by walking right through. Hyunjin was sitting on his assigned desk, as promised working from twelve to six from Monday to Thursday – you had missed his face. You had missed seeing him, had missed observing him during work – not that you have done it often enough to truly miss it, yet excitement filled your body when he caught your eyes and smiled back at you. You’ve seen each other occasionally the last weeks so his smile seemed familiar, warm in nature and showing pearly teeth, and you had missed it. You had missed him. Deeply so – it didn’t scare you.

Eager steps carried you to the man, your shoes clacking softly against the wooden floor and echoed through the tall room of the library. Hyunjin fit into this place like a glove, you though – you could see the appeal it drew to him, could see how someone like him – someone quiet, someone sensitive and life-loving – would enjoy a beauteous, nearly sacred place like this. That he enjoyed typing away on his working computer and listening to the keyboard’s melody as he did, undisturbed and silent room around him, or that he liked grabbing a book or a pencil to kill time while work was slow – it fit him, in the best way it could fit.

“Hey.”

His voice like honey, and you have missed that, too. His voice, you have noticed the first time around, bore soothing fruits that melted on your tongue and got you hooked when you as far as tasted it. Anything about him had such effect, you couldn’t lie, but it was his voice that you learned to enjoy so much over the past weeks. You had missed it, deeply so.

You responded, watched as Hyunjin’s eyes softened at your word, took out the book you had not forget to pack and return. A bit of small talk around it, mutual asking about certain passages, about the ending or the characters and warmth coursed its way through your limbs – it certainly was nice to have someone with similar taste, someone who thought and felt close to the way you did. Chan rarely did, not about literature or arts, anyways.

“Oh, I’d love to see your stuff at some point…”, the conversation had shifted to Hyunjin’s very own art – ever since the party you had wondered what kind of paintings he created, ever since the party Hyunjin had told you you’d be welcome to stop by any time. “…do you like, have studio?”. A shy approach to invite yourself without actually doing so, without seeming pushy, interested instead. Yet you hoped Hyunjin would get the hint.

“Oh, no- not really, I mean. I’ve always wanted an atelier, but I can’t afford it right now…”, a glance up to you, reading your face, wondering if inviting you would be too much at this stage. Risking it anyways. “…I do have a home studio, though. You know, if you want… I’m free in an hour here.”

An exchanged smile, relief from both sides after you agreed and said you’d grab a book to read while waiting for his shift to end. Mutual giddiness bubbling in your chests and you all but could concentrate on whatever novel you picked from the various shelves – in thought already at Hyunjin’s place. You hadn’t expected, hadn’t particularly planned to be invited home to him. Your intentions had been pure, you hadn’t lie when you said you were interested in his art – though you couldn’t lie over the face that being within his own four walls rope a sort of anticipation inside you. Ones home was utterly intimate, felt like a new step to your friendship – a step you should probably be wary to take, one you maybe shouldn’t take altogether. Though you weren’t able to mind it, in all honesty.

Minute by minute went by and an hour felt like an infinity. You’d read barely twenty pages, having to go over paragraphs more often than not in your lack of absorption, until Hyunjin stood before you, finally. Bag thrown over one shoulder, single strands of hair fallen out his ponytail framing his face, soft smile dancing across his lips – he was a sight comforting to look at, and if there’d been any guilt left – about waiting an hour for the man your boyfriend was most jealous of, about visiting said man in his very own home, about taking more interest in his life, his art, his passions than in your boyfriends’ – then it was all gone by now. You didn’t mind anymore, didn’t care. Had decided maybe in that particular moment, with Hyunjin standing before you in all glory, so cautious since aware of your unavailability, yet a promising look in his eyes, one telling to simply choose him, leave your gone love behind and find happiness in a new one, that whatever was left with Chan was long over. Was barely worth fighting for, if not for sheer comfort and habit. That you in fact would stop fighting, for you’d been the only one doing so, after all. That though Hyunjin was yet a land foreign to you, yet to be discovered and explored he was a land of most promising and ripe fruits, of most beauteous nature and sight, of most comfort and secureness.

“You ready?”

___ . ꫂ

Hyunjin had played down the state of his home studio severely — it was as good as an actual atelier would be, to your knowledge anyways. The apartment he shared with his roommates — all gone now, stuck in classes or blowing raspberries at work — bore an extra room too small to be a bedroom and too spacey to work as a simple storage room, and Hyunjin had quickly taken the chance to claim ownership over the space. It’s walls and floor were littered in various combinations of cold and warm colours, stains Hyunjin was likely unable to remove for the overall state of the room was a clean one, despite being the one of an artist – you didn’t know any artists personally, yet had always imagined them to be on the chaotic side. Hyunjin’s studio, stains aside, brought nothing of such – brushes and paint kits stood under a rough system, seemed clean and neat in their position. Yet the studio carried the aura of pure artistry nevertheless — canvases piled up on each other or against the walls, unfinished and breath-taking sketches revealing themselves the longer you laid eyes upon the room, new mystery revealing itself with every closer look you took. There was art everywhere you looked, warm and comforting art you didn’t think you’d ever grow tired upon seeing. Art that made you blush, naked bodies piling upon each other, wondering if Hyunjin ever took live references, art that made you think, canvases filled with so much abstractness, so much variation in colour and texture that it needed you a minute to understand what you were looking at altogether.

You wanted to never leave this place again.

“You made all that?”

Stupid question expectant of stupider answer, though Hyunjin merely chuckled, his cheeks darkening, his fingers fiddling suddenly.

“Yeah... I mean, some of it is like super rough and not really good but... you know, inspiration comes and goes.”

The man gave you a look shy, one you wanted embedded behind a lock within your heart for an eternity – it was pureness, it was innocence that laid in his eyes when he looked at you like this. It was salvation, spoken with a pair of orbs, freedom offered with a single gaze.

And it was art that revealed itself to be a person, laying eyes on Hyunjin, art prettier than pencils and colours could ever create. Looking at him as though your entire world, looking at him as though he was the answer to everything you’d been looking for.

“Oh, shut up, nothing in here is ‘not really good’, I love every single piece…”, exchanged shy look, reddened faces the both of you, and you continued quickly, “I mean, I’m no artist but looking at your paintings makes me, like… feel something. I guess that’s a compliment for an artist, no?”

You chuckled, made your way into the depths of his atelier – it wasn’t anything but, as modest as Hyunjin chose to be about it – and let yourself flood with emotions he had converted onto paper and canvas, allowed yourself to discover colours and shapes, to give them a meaning only guessable – you truly weren’t an artist nor in any right of a good critique, though for Hyunjin you felt ready to learn it all. To understand theory and technique and profession, to dive into a world so unknown to you before, so beauteous you found yourself unable to resist.

A chuckle from him, then; “Yeah, you’re right… thank you.”

Hyunjin wasn’t following you through your journey across his works, stood by his most current piece near the window of the room – he had explained before that natural light was the best to paint with, so grateful the room happened to face the west side. He stood and watched you, enchanted by your interest in him, in his most vulnerable thing, nervous if you’d end up liking it altogether – art was insanely subjective, and while Hyunjin never took it personally nor illy if people and critiques reacted negatively, he needed you to be of an opinion positive. He needed you to like whatever you saw, to maybe understand even, inspiration and emotion, thought-process behind pieces and paintings. Though maybe that was too much to ask for, maybe to greedy of a wish to make. So Hyunjin stood watching you by the open window, hoping for simple contentment with his works from your side. Simple liking, nothing more. Because your validation was all he viewed necessary, from person least knowing of the subject yet of most important value.

Eyes meeting his, and you chuckled out, catching Hyunjin by surprise.

“You don’t talk much, huh?”

Catching Hyunjin by surprise anew – you were impossible to figure out. Admittedly, he had been silent from the moment you started making your way through his works. While he could have explained his inspiration behind certain ones he decided to refrain from it, letting you – hopefully – enjoy the silent satisfaction art brought. He was merely watching you – if maybe because in awe, though you were right, surely. He didn’t talk much, ever, truly.

“Yeah. I don’t really have much to say, I guess.”

Surprised look from your side now, and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know. Your paintings say otherwise.”

And with that you kept looking, and left Hyunjin utterly perplexed. It was a statement so base yet so determined in its character, and Hyunjin nothing but blushed at it.

He kept watching your eyes widen at certain works, when you liked the colours or when you did, after all, reciprocate thoughts and feelings, watched as you walked carefully, cautious not to nudge or bump against still wet canvasses and drying paint. Watched and shied when your gaze met his, when you decided to explore him instead of the art all around – and Hyunjin wondered if you felt the same. Ever wondered if the tension he still felt when around had dissipated for you already, if you had gotten used to the pulling and urging and longing your bodies fell into whenever near each other. No doubt that you had felt the same yet wondering if it was still the case, or if he was the one needing to hold a grip of himself – his body plucked by yours in the smallness of the room was unbearable, nearly, made him lose himself if he wasn’t careful enough. Needed constant reminding to not lose himself in the sight of you fully, converting his eyes for a second or two, collecting composition, regaining control. Control you so loved to take away from him, were so eager to steal right through the holes in his heart.

He damned your boyfriend — if it wasn’t for him, Hyunjin would have long made a move, despite his shy, his careful character, would have long spilled out his hearts’ desires for it took his body every last nerve to resist you, the whole of you. As you made your way through his paintings, through his emotions, through the soul of his Hyunjin’s body urged to be with yours, his heart desired your very own.

“You’d be beautiful to paint.”

Words past Hyunjin’s lips, gushing out too fast as to catch them from being heard. Far louder in the small room that he had intended them to be, for he hadn’t intended them at all. Hyunjin hadn’t even finished the thought before the words had materialized into the room – they simply appeared, as much to your surprise as his, and they bathed the both of you with a shower of fluster, of speechlessness. Exchanging looks, though faces burned hot converting eyes wasn’t in neither of your strengths to do – you simply looked at each other, purified disbelief dripping from within your eyes and onto your faces, standing like two idiots caught red-handed; because that was the first time thoughts had been spoken out aloud. Thoughts too secret, too forbidden to share, thoughts nearly sinful, bashful to even think, really. And they occupied your minds entirely – and Hyunjin was the first to admit to them. Though not wanted yet he did, and you’d been scared of the consequences. Scared to move because that would mean realness, scared to shift gaze because that would mean shyness, similar-mindedness; sin.

“I’m – oh my god, I’m sorry. I just mean --- you’d be a good reference, that’s all. I-”

Words a waterfall, and you shook your head, back in the studio after having felt lost, floating somewhere above the room, brought back the voice of his. And roughly, so.

“No, no… don’t apologize… uh- thank you…? I’m sorry, uh, thank you, really.”

Voice as trembling as you felt, and you shook your head all the while speaking, huffing out in attempted amusement, though it came out as a snort and ended up awkward; which made your heart beat faster and your face paint darker, and you cursed Hyunjin for saying those five words, so short a sentence, so small a promise and yet enough to shake your word. Walls you built so carefully before stepping into his home crumbling in their place, any sort of shield around your heart, regardless of its material, shattering into pieces to let free the feeling you had been trying to suffocate beneath layers of pretend. Allowing your body to be pulled by his, allowing the string that connected your hearts to tighten, to bring you closer, to connect you. To truly connect you, because now his word was spoken, now his promise was made. As small a promise as it was, and there was way to go, but it was irreversible.

And he knew it, too. Felt the threads, felt the needle in his arteries poking deeper, felt the fine fibre pulling him towards you and you towards him, felt your heart sink altogether, felt your crumbling composure. Knew even, maybe, entirely what you’ve been thinking – though not a master to mind reading he swore he knew what was going on in yours, felt your thoughts as though they were his own.

“I… actually… I haven’t really painted you, per se, but…”, though shy, resistant, Hyunjin let his mouth speak, as though a stranger to his own words, with no control over his mouth, his body. But the moment called for honesty, and he was ready to grant it to you. Ready to cross boundaries if he needed to – he hated your damned boyfriend, and if the last thing he did was being the reason for your end then so be it. He’d be ready to die on that hill, he’d be ready to die on any hill, if it was for you. Pathetic, because unsure if you felt the same, though not embarrassed, never ashamed. Hyunjin decided maybe in that very moment that he’d fight, as long as you let him. That, as long as you visited him, the library, his studio, or merely your voice at night over the hushed speaker of his phone, when your boyfriend worked his life away, unapologetic of your own, that he would fight for you. For your love. For your heart.

“I made this. And you… were the inspiration, I guess. More like, the feeling I have… when I’m around you. The feeling we both had, I think… when we first touched at that party… God that sounds so stupid.”

He mumbled; you nearly asked him to repeat himself. Though the very moment you laid eyes upon the canvas every thought ceased to exist within you – you had never seen a painting, a work of art as delicate as the one he showed you, brought up from behind a pile of abstract looking pieces. It were hues upon hues, oranges and blues, light and dark composition, moulded together in a way you wondered how was humanly possible. Where one colour ended the next began, mixing where they met each other, connecting in strokes articulate, almost. As though the painting bore the ability to speak, telling you of its thoughts, of its longings and desires, of its love. Of Hyunjin’s love, ultimately – for he was the one who brought the painting to life. With you in thought, with you behind the lids of his eyes, with you before his very being.

And you knew from maybe that moment that it was him. That it had always been him, the empty space within you, the wishing part of you, the one asking for contentment, for delicateness, for love within your life. That it had been him before you ever grew to know him, that it had been him before you’d been placed on this earth, before you had walked the planet, altogether.

___ . ꫂ

“You have no right to be angry at me, and you know that.”

Not screaming though you weren’t too far from it at that point, trying to collect voice because volume surely wouldn’t help.

You had come home, step light and head high, Hyunjin and the past hour occupying your mind entirely – until you had reached your entrance door, made your way into it, and had met Chan on the sofa, angry, upset.

“You have forgotten our date.”

Words as simple as that, and they had made you furious. Furious because he was unbelievable – missed chances from his point and it was fine, the moment you gave him a taste of his own medicine, bitter and unpleasant he reacted. It was unfair on you, and he was crazy not to be seeing it. His hypocrisy, his idiocy.

And you had been impatient. Had nearly not wanted to fight or argue because you saw no point within, knowing your boyfriend well enough to predict no outcome would leave the both of you satisfied. That compromising throughout your relationship, throughout the time you’ve spent together could only do so much, could only work for as long as it has. That you have reached a breaking point, surely, finally.

“You have no right to be angry with me. I can’t even count on fingers how many you have missed and I won’t let you ride my dick for the one that skipped my mind today!!”

You and Chan stood opposite, so far away from each other, and it didn’t feel like enough. You wanted to get away, needed to, because he was suffocating. Suffocating and impossible, loved so dearly once and now hated all the more. You didn’t want to; hate was a word so strong it nearly scared you, though love was as well. The flame with Chan, if there’s ever been one, had burned out, had used out every last match it could find, every last piece of rotten wood it could burn. Left was a cold bundle of ash, asked to be taken out, to be thrown away, to be abandoned. To be finally left alone, because it was tired, exhausted of the constant tries of starting a fire, of getting it to burn again. Pained from the constant nagging, from the fruitless effort, from the overripe dejection.

“I am angry though!? We’ve promised to start to make an effort, and I’m really fucking trying here, I’ve cleared my fucking schedule for you, I’ve cancelled important meetings and appointments I needed to attend and I did for fucking you!? Fucking hell.”

Words intended to make you feel bad though you failed to. Couldn’t, not with a right mind. Though Chan wasn’t wrong in theory, you couldn’t bear the heart to truly feel bad for him; you long stopped to, should have long stopped pretending to. You looked at him, through eyes cold, senseless. You’ve lost all hope with him, all hope for him. There was nothing left within you to feed the love you’ve so carefully tended, nothing that would make you regret your thoughts, doubt them, demonize them. You looked at him and he was furious, shouting words meaningless to you. Telling you to speak, to explain to him, to make him understand. If this was the moment where it was over, where you’d part ways. Where you’d give up. It was nothing but meaningless to you. Didn’t feel bad for Chan even when you saw tears daring to stain his cheeks, his shirt. When his fingers ran through his hair, noticing how thin they’ve grown. Couldn’t feel bad for him when his body sank to the ground, missing the sofa by inches, making contact with cold hardness beneath him instead, letting head fall into hands, chocked sobs emerging from within him.

You couldn’t feel bad for him. Couldn’t because it had been you on that same spot by the sofa countless of times, the reason him, always. You who would choke sobs past your throat, embarrassed of how they sounded through the echo of the apartment, an apartment so lonely you had wondered if it was shared, in the first place. Apartment so lonely you had doubted you had a partner altogether, maybe only a fraction of your imagination, a fabrication of your deepest wishes. To be loved, and to love – you had been missing that even though committed, and you had decided now, watching, listening to your lost love cry, that it was the last time you would miss it. That this point, the breaking one, should have enrolled far longer – though now you’d make the best of it, with what you had.

“It’s over.”

Words so disturbingly loud you jumped at your own voice, jumped at Chan’s reaction to them – his head shot up momentarily, glistening eyes boring into yours, brows furrowed and lips quivering impossibly. He was furious, confused. Started begging, screaming. Seated in his space, not moving an inch from the spot by the sofa. Stayed screaming at you, begging right after, apologizing frantically, crying fat tears that rolled heavy down his cheeks. You couldn’t feel bad for him.

He stayed crying at the spot by the sofa when you started moving, finally, letting your body get used to the sensation, feeling heavy, feeling as though you stood a statue of stone by the kitchen counter, not as much as blinking. You moved towards your shoes, grabbing a jacket as you went, slipping into the right, then the left. Motions automatic, robotic. You couldn’t care about him. Grabbing keys, listening to his pleading, to his cries of your name, to his apologies. Words you’ve heard so very often you feared to grow null towards them, emotionless, careless. Words worth gold though Chan reduced them to mere dirt, nothing more than. Words you now heard behind you, hand on the handle, opening the door to welcome the cool from outside, before it engulfed you whole, before it consumed you fully and never bound to let you go, not for tonight.

___ . ꫂ

He was in love with you. When you had left his apartment, Hyunjin feeling a useless fool, corners of his mouth from eye to eye, the pounding in his heart had never seemed to stop. He had prepared himself dinner, had put on a show he didn’t pay the least attention to, he washed the dishes with a carelessness he never laid upon chores – and then his phone’d chimed up, ringing in a tone familiar, and his heart had nearly made its way out of its confines, snugly laid within the ribcage beneath his skin when he saw your name, a text from you. Maybe she felt me thinking about her, he thought, naively, and cringed at his very own theorization.

00: 18 >> hey, are you free? right now?

Questioning look on Hyunjin’s visage, and he’d responded he was, yet asking whether there was a problem – it was a bit after midnight, and though Hyunjin would welcome you with open arms regardless how late, regardless the reason, he worried. He knew you shared a place with your boyfriend – scoffing at the thought right as he had thought it, body flooding with dislike the very moment – and there was seemingly no reason for your search for Hyunjin, not after having spent half the day in company.

And then hope filled his being, occupied his lungs with so much weight it felt heavy to breathe, made his soul bloom in flowers most delicate, most spacious he was at risk to lose sight of all else – you had texted him in the middle of the night, though it was your supposed boyfriend you ought to be with at such hour. Him who you had come home to, in all likeliness – him, or the traces of him, the loneliness he left the thing you fled from. To Hyunjin, instead. To the guy you surely walked on eggshells around, the very guy your boyfriend must be hating insatiably. And yet you had texted him a little after midnight, and had rang his doorbell.

“I’m so sorry, I know how late it is, I just- I’m so sorry, oh my god.“

You stumbled into his apartment after Hyunjin had opened the door for you, apologies gushing past your lips like mantras. Reassuring you, offering you a seat by his sofa – the apartment was yet empty, roommates having texted they would stay over at their friends’ or partners’, and Hyunjin had been giddy about having the place for himself for a night, not remembering the last time he had had the chance to – yet he was giddier now that you joined his lonesome, though worry overshadowed any excitement Hyunjin could have bared.

You weren’t crying, though the puffiness of your eyes, the red around them, your bruised up lips revealed that you had been before reaching Hyunjin’s place. He knew the reason was the boyfriend, though he didn’t allow his jealousy, his messed-up mind to start a conversation – you would explain if you needed to, wouldn’t if you didn’t have the strength to. Hyunjin would wait it out either way, would grant a listening ear or a simple companion – he’d be whatever you needed him to be.

“God, I should have called Seungmin… I would have called him, I just- I felt like I needed to see you.”

Your voice frantic, though less now than before. Hyunjin sat beside you on the soft cushions, keeping a fair distance though it wasn’t possibly enough – your distraught heart pulling him forward, and he shifted to create more space – he would touch you if he didn’t, would lay a comforting hand on your shoulder, would embrace you in a hug. Figuring it was the last thing you needed he regained control against the waves of pressure your body shot his way, waited simply for your words to take on form, to start making sense.

“No… it’s okay, don’t worry about it… are you okay? Are you hurt, did something happen?”

Soothing words and far more soothing voice, and it nearly shot another heat of tears right past your eyes and onto the wetness of your cheeks. You felt bad, guilty for disturbing Hyunjin’s night, guiltier to come crying by his doorstep. Though there wasn’t an ounce of reluctance within him, it seemed, welcoming you as though it was a normality, as though it was a given for him to take you in. And maybe that made it all the worse, his kind-heartedness, his demeanour, his readiness for you. His drastic difference to you boyfriend – your ex –, his wholly different character, kinder, calmer, softer.

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine. I just… I ended it. With Chan. I couldn’t take it anymore, Hyunjin.”

Silent tears down your eyes, glistening against your skin like flooded rain in pavement cracks, tears as you materialized what had happened prior, as you made real a tragedy so relieving. Hyunjin shouldn’t be happy, oh did he feel bad for wanting to flip over the world in feeling of newly gained strength and energy, of satisfaction so grand he never thought possible. Felt so very bad for not feeling bad for you, not in ways one would think – it hurt his heart that you were pained, understood that despite his despise it was a relationship your own heart had been invested in, so all the more painful now that it was over. And yet he was relieved. For your very own sake, because he was aware of the hardships a one-sided love must have brought, undoubtedly. Screws in his brain rutting, and Hyunjin realized he must offer a place of comfort, despite his flawed thoughts, despite his evil mind. He only hoped you couldn’t read the relief in his eyes as you locked in his gaze with your teary one.

“Fuck, I’m… I’m so sorry. God, you must feel horrible, wait… let me give you a water, are you thirsty? If you have no place to stay you can sleep here, by the way, all the others are gone… you can have my bed and some clothes, just… feel at home… wait, let me give you that water—”

And you started sobbing. Tears gushing out as fast as Hyunjin’s words were, words of utter comfort, of compassion, of kindness. You damned him for it. Damned him for your fragile heart, for the way he was so easy to shake it. Damned him for making his way into your life so unknowingly, so quietly you hadn’t noticed the point where it’s been too late. Damned him for loving him as much as you did, for seeing him when thinking of deepest desires, of love in its very being. Looking at him, eyes milked up yet looking at him. He stared back, perplexed, halfway to the kitchen though stopped in his tracks at the sound of your cries, at the sight of your eyes, your face – he stood looking at your pain, unsure gaze meeting untempt one, seconds feeling like days, entirely too long while anticipating an answer or an explanation altogether, for sudden outburst, for sudden tears at act so kind.

“Stop… just stop being so nice to me.”

Standing up from your seat, legs feeling weak as they moved around the room. Heavy steps towards Hyunjin, careful not to get too close, not to meet his tide, a tide so strong you’d be pulled into wholly if movements grew too risked.

“Please stop being so nice to me, I- I’ll fall in love with you even more.”

Words cutting into every layer of tension that had laid itself upon the room, breaking every damn either of you had built tediously, shooting right through every wall, through every measure of safety you had kept around your hearts. You had taken the knife and stabbed times a million where it was most sensitive, had cut out oxygen from where it was more necessary. And you were close. Too close to him to feel at ease, too close to Hyunjin for his blood to pump in speed it would be healthy – mind and body racing, part of his brain encoding the meaning of your very confession, of your impossible words. Words so powerful it knocked him off his feet, words he never believed to be lucky enough to hear. You were wholly insane, and he was utterly in love.

Stepping closer to you, space between you buzzing, hissing, lighting up as though bodies were electrified, as though highest volts were coursing your veins, your skin. Stepped closer to watch your face paint in agony, so close he was tempted to wipe off the tears grazing your eyes. His hand raised, inches away from your cheek. You shifted, tilted your head to escape his touch. He stayed in position, arm raised, eyes boring into you.

“I can’t.”

Your voice so quiet he had to lip read, his hand ever in position, ready to soothe if you only gave the word. More and thicker tears rolled down the curve of your face, the perky bone, down the plush and onto the dip by your collarbone. He watched it, wished to kiss it away.

“I can’t get into a relationship right away. I know there’s… something… here…”, you let your hands sway through the space between your bodies, your hand breaking through resistance so strong you didn’t believe there was nothing than mere air between your bodies. Had to be something more, something deeper, “but me and Chan, it was so exhausting.”

A choked sob and you regained control, eyes losing his for only a moment before holding gaze anew – his own didn’t wander, every of his senses glued onto you as though you’d break apart if he only as though looked a different direction. He stood listening to you, aching heart and far more aching soul – he was willing to gift you anything, to morph into the very person you needed most this very moment, to become whatever you now desired. Understanding you and waiting to take him as he was, because he was willing to get hurt if it was for you. Tears wettening your shirt, apology staining the room – and Hyunjin’s hands engulfed your face, one big hand on either of your side, palms dampened in tears. The feeling that shot through your bodies was one neither of you could ignore, eyes softening, limbs stiffening, minds short circuiting – it needed Hyunjin a moment to find his words, though sure of them the sensation of touch, your skin against his had knocked out remaining rationality.

“I need you however you’ll let me have you.”

Blinking, his words like sweetest venom in your ear. His eyes expectant, his palms providing warmth, soothing touch to disrupted skin, to torn up heart. You tended to it, tended to him.

“Will you let me hurt you, then?”

And then your lips met. Hyunjin’s answer his mouth on your own, his hands in your hair. Your own finally brave enough to reciprocate touch – you had never sensed him before, not really. Had never sought out to find his touch directly, never actively, so. It was a sensation like no other, a million light bulbs, uncountable fireworks popping in colour underneath your skin, just where yours met his. Fingertips on his neck, by the back of his hair, by the perk of his shoulder. A million fireworks in blue and red and purple and green, sounding through your ears as though going off in this very room, in this very apartment, place so lonely, filled with two lost souls that had found each other finally, though maybe in the wrong moment. Two souls connected the way two snap hooks were, sealed within each other.

Hyunjin lead you through it. His mouth opened to a kiss of teeth and clatter, and you allowed him to, sunk into the feeling of him, his lips on yours, his hands on the vastness of your body. He wasn’t greedy with his moves, needy though as he stopped before his tongue protruded into mouth of yours, asking for permission silently until you granted allowance – only then he continued forward, wet muscles enchanting in a dance addicting, warmth spreading through the entireties of your bodies. You stood in place and kissed each other, a kiss so long awaited it might have been a dream, altogether. A kiss so surreal Hyunjin had to pull away or a moment quick, looking at you, looking at the whole of you – your blown out eyes, pleading, scared. Your lips red, your hands on his chest, his own by the curve of your waist. He had dreamed of this very moment throughout countless nights, when it was only him and his thoughts, and you within them. Had dreamed to kiss you under different circumstances, yet kiss you altogether; and it was sweeter, softer, better than any dream could fabricate.

Staggered breath from both of you as you took the other in, locking blown out eyes and holding trembling bodies, tending running minds, with as much as a look, a touch. And then lips found lips again. As though instinctively, as though it was the very thing, the only thing you’d been born to do. To wrap mouth around mouth, to allow tongues within, to graze upon teeth, to bite down on lips. Softly, experimentally, and then again, when wanted reaction followed.

Hyunjin started backing against the soft of the sofa as your hands made their way through his hair, messing up the softened locks to your liking. He let you, gratefully, toy at him as you wished. Let you explore his body as he explored yours, bunching up clothes in fists, so impatient, so eager. Because this has been all you’d ever wanted, the both of you, everything and more of what you’d desired, since the very moment you’d seen each other in the small of the convenience store, entirely unfamiliar then yet strangely connected. The embrace of the other, lips dancing in sync as though meant to be, hands dancing across body as though born to serve that very purpose.

Hyunjin crouched down, motioning your body softly, swiftly, so you sat on the edge of the couch, his body hovering above yours, darkening your view against the dim light of the living room. His lips never tore apart from your own – the sounds of wet against wet filled the small of the room, joined by softest sighs and gasps for air; you were left speechless, thoughtless with every additional touch, with every further exploring, the both of you. Hyunjin crouched down further, face to face with you and he went lower, yet, pulling your head with him, leaving you to be the one above him after he settled on his knees between your own. Hands on either of your thighs, caressing the plush, groping at the flesh when your fingers pulled against his darkened roots – you quickly discovered him to like it when you did.

Hyunjin broke the kiss, reluctant to let you go, meeting equally reluctant eyes, your lips chasing his for a moment until he connected them to the curve of your neck, minimally dampened in sweat – you must have walked to his place, only now he figured, feeling even deeper discontentment with your ex; until he remembered he was the one kissing you this very moment, his mouth the one attached to the softness of your neck, to the bit behind your ear, to the hollow part of your collarbone. He was the one whose hands steadied themselves on your waist, squeezing to his liking, kissing down to meet your chest. He was the reason you squirmed in his hold, in between his hands, on his couch, in his home – it was him, and Hyunjin would be a fool to grow salty, to let you go. To miss the opportunity, the way your ex did – Hyunjin wouldn’t possibly be so dumb, would give his heart to treat you the way you had deserved to be treated, the years passed. Would show you what love could be like, if it was him you were with.

You grew desperate. Loved the way Hyunjin’s mouth lapped at your body, loved his hands exploring it – but you needed more. Needed the very thing his whole demeanour pointed towards – his body caged between your legs, his hands on your thighs, moving closer to your sex, his face inching nearer towards it. Though he was taking his time. Sweet time to dote on you, to tend you, to love you. Hands only going as far as pulling your shirt high enough to litter your lower stomach in kisses most sweet, and you couldn’t take any more.

“Hyunjin... please.”

Your words as though brought him back to reality, if he had forgotten his surroundings before, merely focusing on you and your body, on the way you sounded, smelled and felt to the touch he now was grounded again, finding himself on his knees before you, finding your eyes looking at him with so much plead, so much desire he might just implode. He understood, your words of impatience, and he mumbled a quick apology, wasting no time now to jumble up the hem of your shirt, to busy his hands with the button of your jeans, hook his fingers into the waistband of your attires. Sliding off pants and underwear in one go after an approving look, and Hyunjin feared that truly, his heart would simply shoot up in a million tiny pieces and out of his body. The sight of you, hovering on the edge of the sofa, body leaned against the back of it, arms working as a prop behind you — lower half exposed, sinfully so; you were glistening in soft wetness, excitement lacing your features, the entirety of you body. It was better than Hyunjin could have ever dare to dream of. This very image having haunted his nightly fantasies ever so often, guilt in the pit of his stomach as his hand had lowered to ease himself every single time — and now he lived it, would no longer have to rely on his mind to fabricate most eager sceneries, wouldn’t need to rely on solely his hand to grand him sweetest release. You lay before him and in flesh, and his eyes glazed over with a sheen of adoration, with a hint of disbelief, maybe.

“So pretty. So, so pretty.”

Words leaving mouth quietly as his lips connected to the plush of your thighs, your body jumping at both the compliment and the sudden contact of warm lips to warmer skin. It felt foreign yet all too much familiar, too known a feeling to be strange, and your lids fluttered close, neck giving in, head lulling to the side. Hyunjin didn’t keep his eyes off you for a moment – watching you intently through deep lashed as he bit and sucked on the flesh of inner thighs, learning most sensitive zones, most erogenous spots. Mouth moving closer to your heat and your legs opened wider at his antics, feeling his lips on the bone connecting leg and pelvis, and your hips rolled forward – minimally yet enough to drive Hyunjin insane, seeing, sensing your need a matter unbelievable to him – you wanted him as much as he wanted you, and he everything but stayed calm at the mere thought alone. A feeling of increased ego, or simple relief – the both of you had walked on eggshells around the other, ever since the day at the store. Had felt feelings reciprocated yet had never been entirely sure, because too cowardly to ever ask – knowing surely now, the desire was of mutual nature – Hyunjin felt utterly helpless.

Mouth attaching to your slit, wetness covering him whole momentarily, hum leaving his throat and sending vibrations right through you, making your back arch into him this much more, your neck throwing back now, eyes shut and hand entangled in coloured hair. Pulling on it slightly to get soft sounds to leave his lips, to feel them against the sensitivity of your clit, to hear his satisfaction in satisfying you. His tongue lapping up your every bit, humming at the taste of you, at your smell. At the sight of you basking in his ministrations on you, focused and determined, wanting nothing more than to please you, the way he’s been dreaming of, imagining too many times to count. It was working, seemingly – shy whimpers leaving your mouth, self-conscious of being too loud, yet unable to deny the feeling Hyunjin provided you, gifted you with. Tongue dancing in kitten licks and sucks against your clit, or prodding at your entrance, and you’ve lost yourself further and further into him, both waiting for release, anticipating it yet dreading it, because the moment would be over, then. Wanted to bask in the impossible feeling of satisfaction that would never be enough only to not let the moment end, altogether – yet Hyunjin didn’t stop, kept driving you to said release, with licks against your slit, with kisses against your sensitivity, detaching only to litter wettened kisses against the vastness of your thighs. Your following whines of protest in loss of touch made Hyunjin chuckle and he went back to bask you in sweetest pleasure, fingers toying at your entrance, sliding into you when your hips bucked to allow him in, when impatient hands grabbed for his wrist, pleads rolling past your tongue in sheer holiest mantras.

Hyunjin was driven, wrist sore from curling up against the spot he had found after moments of searching, knowing he had when your back had arched so violently it had nearly scared him, jaw clacking in overuse though he was the last to care about any of it. Driven to drive you to where you needed him to, until you’d see white, until his very name would be the last thing on your mind, the feeling of him on you the very last feeling you’d die to feel. He watched you as your hands pulled him closer to your middle, as your hips rolled against his face, until you started clenching around the girth of his fingers, relentless pleasure in the way they never missed the softest spot so deep within you, until you started seeing stars. Only mumbling nonsense, utterly lost in the feeling of him, thighs contracting beside his head, your mind free from the frustrations of previous moments – wholly focused on your release that came in waves heavy, stormy, washing over you as Hyunjin sat careful to ride it out, not stopping movements until you told him to, until you squirmed in his hold in overstimulation. Your breath staggered, your chest heaving, your legs tired. Your eyes finding his in a moment of realisation, hearts skipping a beat as you fell back to reality – Hyunjin’s pupils were impossibly blown out, outlined erection visible even through the fabric of his worn-out sweatpants, breath as staggered as yours was. You ought to scream at the top of your lungs at the lust, the desire he watched you with – knowing he wanted you as much as you did, knowing he had felt the same about you the previous weeks where worry’d been all that’s been on your mind, worry about lost love, worry about the risks of finding a new one – he had been there and he had been feeling the very same you had, and you urged to kiss him at mere thought alone.

Pulled him up by his chin so your lips could meet in a kiss passionate, wet and laced with your release, drowned in your contentment, teeth clashing and hands groping wherever they could reach. Sneaking beneath shirts to pull them off seconds later, leaving you wholly naked, Hyunjin in only his sweats. And the kiss was never enough. The moment you wanted to pull away for air, or to ask Hyunjin for more, for his pants and underwear to be gone you simultaneously felt reluctant to, seemingly unable to break the kiss, to detach your lips from his. Having waited to have him like this for far too long it now seemed impossible to let him go for even a moment, if it meant burning with emptiness and desire a little while longer.

Though your bodies could only take so much. Hips longing for friction, yours as much as his, the confines of his pants only paining him, his impatience. And you didn’t let him hurt for too long. Started reaching down his body, tracing lines of abs and soft muscles to hook your fingers into the waistband of his undergarments, pleading for him to take them off, eyes anticipating, hands wanting. He complied gratefully, pulled off sweats and boxers in one go, adding them to the pile of carelessly tossed cloths before his eyes were back on your own – only looking, exchanged gaze as you waited for someone to do the crucial move, the one that would bound you as one for the remaining of time. Both of you too cowardly, hot breath hitting faces, sweat forming to dance on flushed skin.

“I can’t- I can only give you this much. I can’t give you want you want, not right now. I want you to know that, this is- this is the only thing I can give you.”

Voice on the verge of breaking, quiet in your throat, eyes filling with agony. You didn’t want to hurt him, wished to be able to love him the way he wanted you to, the way he deserved it. Wished that Chan wouldn’t have settled into your very being as persistent as he did, making him the only reason for your heart to be reluctant, scared to open up as wide anew.

Hyunjin’s thumb caressed the high of your cheek, head leaning closer, giving a peck to bruised up lips to lean his forehead against yours a moment later. Intimacy dizzying the both of you, closeness and proximity making it heart to reach for air.

“Then it’s enough for the time being. I’ll wait for you, I promise.”

A sigh out of your lungs and a nod, and Hyunjin started lining up with your entrance, precum and your wetness enough for his sinking into you to be utterly painless, for the stretch to be one of unbelievable pleasure. Fireworks setting off in your bodies anew, and only now the relentless pulling seemed to have faded, had turned into a feeling of passion, of pleasure in measures unknown to you times previous. You whimpered out momentarily, reciprocating Hyunjin’s deep groan against your ear, his stuttering hips as he bottomed out within you, so deep your body felt as helpless as they came. All five senses entirely focused on him, on the way he filled you – though for the very first time, you yet felt nostalgia rushing through you, as though this very moment had happened in a past life, as though your bodies, your souls had loved each other the very same way long before you had known it yourselves.

Setting a slow rhythm, embracing each other, holding your bodies close. Chests flushed, heartbeats in sync, hips meeting somewhere in the middle, where your cores connected. Sweat a sheet across your fleshes, breaths hitching in your throats, confessions spilling past kiss-bitten lips – it was connection you had craved for years on end, connection so deep it dared to scratch your heart. And in this very moment, one you’ve anticipated behind closed doors, in most private fantasies, you weren’t man and woman having sex, you were two people, two souls loving the other. Because it were your souls that loved, not your bodies. When you kissed, when you touched, when you let lips and hands dance across bodies where it was most desired your bodies expressed the love your very souls felt, because your souls themselves couldn’t possibly reveal such feelings. So, you took your bodies as a vessel, as a messenger for your love, your desire, your longing. Materialized what souls were feeling – and you grunted against the other, bodies growing more frantic, more feverous, reaching closer the point you so badly wanted to reach, together, in unison.

It didn’t take you much longer – one thrust, a second and a third until you whined out, letting Hyunjin know how close you were, through gritted tears and teary eyes, until he nodded and agreed, telling you, begging you to let go, for you were with him. And you did at the sound of his voice, waves of pleasure gushing over you before they took over Hyunjin, whines filling the stuffiness of the room, confessions following right after. Collapsing on top of you and staying within the hold of your arms – another dream he’s had, so all the more unbelievable, impossible now that he was living it. Shifting on the sofa so you lay comfortably, never letting go of bodies, holding close to warmth. Careless about your stickiness, your sweat covering the whole of you – careless because this moment, you were everything that mattered, Hyunjin was.

“I don’t wanna sleep yet. Because then this moment will pass.”

Chuckling in his hold, and you felt no different. Basking in the feeling of him, laying on his sofa, heartbreak and suffering so far away now you wondered if the last hour had even occurred, or if it was a fabricated memory for your mind to play with you, to hurt you. It was all gone in Hyunjin’s arms, with his body so close to yours. The pulling, the string that had seemed to be connecting your hearts, your bodies wherever you went, from the moment in the store had tightened the two of you together for eternity, finally, eventually. At it was a feeling good, of utter contentment. One of relief, because the matter had been sitting on your shoulders for far too long, for your own good, for your own health. Your hearts had finally found each other, rightfully so, like they were intended to before your bodies walked this earth – and you fell asleep to Hyunjin’s soft snoring, you in his heart and him in your own, ought to be bound with nothing to tear you apart.

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