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#when will i be free of Attachment Discourse?
tarisilmarwen · 1 year
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Why is Luke's characterization in TBOBF Chapter 6 considered OOC and character assassination when it is fully in-line with Jedi teachings? (Even if it was written by Lord Darth Dave Felonious and was clearly framed in a bad light because of that)
That... is a complicated story that basically boils down to two things:
1. A long-standing fandom-wide misinterpretation of Jedi philosophy and teachings.
2. Fandom nostalgia and attachment to Legends EU material. (That's pre-Disney-buyout Expanded Universe books/comics/games/whatever wasn't the six OG films. Note that EU material operated on a nebulous and often contradictory tier system of canon and could be overwritten at any time by Lucas himself on the "G tier".)
See, fandom conflates "attachment" with "any close or intimate interpersonal relationship whatsoever" and think the Prequel Order's prohibition on marriage is stupid so they basically have this whole insidious pervasive fanon where Jedi aren't allowed to love or have friends or express feelings/emotions and therefore they adore and One True Jedi Luke for "bucking" all of that and having compassion and saving his father and his friends with The Power Of Love or some shit and for allowing the members of his new Jedi Order to marry and have families.
A good chunk of the material about Luke's New Jedi Order, it should be noted, was written before the Prequel Trilogy came around and clarified how the Jedi Order of old actually operated (more monastic and structured, under the Senate's authority). And people... did not like that the portrayal of the Jedi in PT contrasted with the EU material they were reading and preferred Luke's Order to the seemingly more sterile and esoteric Prequel Order.
And thus emerged the first roots of the fanon idea that the Prequel Jedi were supposed to be portrayed as Having Things Wrong and that Luke, being of course the One True Jedi, came along and "fixed" things with his new order.
You can see now how people who were operating under this fanon framework came to decry Luke's The Last Jedi portrayal as him having "repeated the mistakes" of the old Order. (That's not why TLJ Luke was OOC but that is a rant for another day my friend.)
TBOBF Luke, being in line with the Prequel Jedi philosophy of "attachment bad, this is a serious commitment and you can't half-ass it, you gotta be 100% in on this" is seen as a continuation of the "bad characterization" established for him in The Last Jedi, because again, Luke is supposed to be the One True Good Jedi Who Fixed Everything Wrong About The Old Order.
Even though the things that fandom thinks were wrong about the old Order weren't actually problems, for the most part, because "attachment" =/= "love" and Lucas has been clear and explicit about this from the beginning, attachment is the fear of loss and the inability to let go. Not "romantic relationships", not "family and friends", it has a very specific connotation in the Star Wars universe and people are very stubborn about ignoring that fact in favor of their preferred fanon interpretation.
Full disclosure I haven't actually seen TBOBF so I'm unclear about the tone of Luke's portrayal but just from what I've seen in gifs it seemed honestly more neutrally portrayed than negative. (Though given Filoni's track record of being mostly in-line with Lucas aside from annoying moments of, "Well but weren't the Prequel Jedi just a little bit in the wrong?"/"Isn't attachment just a little bit good sometimes?" I wouldn't put it past him to lean that way.) And you're right, nothing Luke said or did is out of step with Jedi teachings.
It's just that fandom doesn't like/doesn't understand Jedi teachings so they don't like Luke adhering to them.
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lovelyhan · 11 months
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— meet cute of the century ⟢
the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.
★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader
★ WORD COUNT; 25.4k words
★ TAGS; meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut
★ NOTES; it's finally done!! and it turned out to be the longest oneshot i've written ever T T i reaaally didn't mean it to become this long but i got overly self-indulgent so here we are :3c also psa that this story features a handful of other characters from the series, so if you find them familiar that's totally on purpose HEH
this is part of the doting on you! series.
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★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, service top wonwoo, praise kink, voice kink, first time together, fingering, creampie, ofc they're grossly in love
★ TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @coffeestay - @jkbabiey
★ SERIES TAGLIST; @ti--red - @jeonwonhi - @gyusbabydoll - @xiaoting999 - @marksluvr0 - @ohmyhuenings - @downbadreading
P.S. i reserve the right to refuse to add you to my taglist if you don't have any age indicators in your profile :^)
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There are a handful of things that a college student can do with their free time. Studying, hanging out with friends, and maybe even picking up a hobby of sorts. You, on the other hand, use up all the hours you’re not spending on your undergrad thesis or sleeping the day away at an animal shelter just a few minutes away from your apartment. 
Your friends constantly wonder how you’re still able to maintain a remarkable GPA with a part-time job that’s starting to look full-time, but you just laugh their questions off for the most part—saying that other people have got it worse than you, but can still perform leagues better academically. 
You also tell them that most of your motivation comes from all the unadopted animals from the shelter. You started as a volunteer just to kill time on weekends when you’re free, but even if you knew better than to get attached to all those adorable faces, you eventually found yourself on the employee roster anyways. 
Now you’re rushing to finish your degree so you can get a neat sugar mommy job that’ll let you afford to adopt everyone that’s been stuck in the shelter for nearly a year or more.
Okay, maybe not everyone because you’re no fool with a savior complex. But just enough to give a few furry friends a new home, right?
“Don’t look now,” your coworker, Mina whispers conspiratorially while you’re in the middle of snacking in the break room, “but that cutie you’ve been crushing on just walked inside. He’s checking out the cats out in the playroom as usual.”
Right. Apart from your altruistic dream of adopting as many animals as your financial capabilities can allow, there’s another reason you’re always looking forward to your shifts at the shelter. A reason that you’re a bit too embarrassed to let your friends know about.
You nearly choke on a potato chip when Mina informs you of the news and she immediately breaks into a fit of laughter. Glaring at her, you compose yourself with a long gulp of water before saying, “I do not have a crush on him.”
“Sure,” she plays along. “If you consider making googly eyes at the guy every time he drops by as ‘not having a crush on him’, then I’ll concur.” 
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t, sweetheart. Now get out there and sweet talk him into taking one of the kittens home! Pretty sure he wants one if he’s been showing up as much as he did for the last two months.” 
While you would’ve argued that the so-called cutie you’ve been crushing on could just like seeing the cats play around in his free time, you don’t really have much energy to play mental gymnastics with Mina. You’ve had a long day of revisions and other nonsense materials you have to submit for your majors, so you’ll let this one slide.
Your workplace is as bleak as every other shelter you’ve seen a few times in your life. Gray walls, concrete floors, and steel cages stacked on top of each other. It looks more like a prison than anything, really, but it’s the staff and those kind-hearted souls who rehome animals that have long been abandoned that give the entire place some life.
While Mister Cutie That You’ve Been Quote-Unquote Crushing On doesn’t exactly fall into either of those categories, you like to think he still leaves the building just a touch more colorful once he walks out of the front door. 
Speaking of color, he’s wearing a loose, dark green shirt that falls just below his elbows. Cutie—as you’ve deigned to call him not because you think he’s cute but because you’re yet to get his name—has one palm flattened across the viewing glass of the playroom. He’s wearing his usual black face mask today, but from the way his eyes glint behind his glasses, you’re just going to assume he’s having a good time just by watching the cats frolic inside.
“You’re here pretty late,” you state nonchalantly before standing a few feet away from him. 
“Is that so strange?” he murmurs with a chuckle, surprisingly not startled with your sudden entrance before glancing your way. “I always show up here at this hour, don’t I?”
God. No matter how many times you hear his voice, you just can’t get over how deep it is. But before any of your thoughts could show on your face, you get talking.
“True. You’ve sparked a debate among the volunteers about your line of work, actually.” Not exactly. You’re not sure if any of the volunteers have even seen this guy, since they mostly work day shifts. “Anyway, are you just here to check ‘em out or am I finally going to hand you the adoption papers?”
His eyes crinkle a bit before he shifts his gaze towards the playroom again. Most of the older cats have already been put back in their respective cages. All that’s left inside are the kittens with way too much energy to spare. The director, A.K.A., your boss, believes that it’s best to tire them out first before settling them into individual enclosures for the night. Keeps the place nice and quiet for the evening shift fellows like yourself.
“Not yet, sadly,” Cutie says with a sigh before pointing at a small black kitten huddled up in a corner. “That one’s new, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve seen him around before.” 
“Her,” you correct. “Her name’s Hani. She’s a stray that someone from the university I’m attending brought in last week. It was pretty ugly, actually. Poor thing got into an accident and was bleeding everywhere. Good thing our usual vet was paying a visit when they came here.”
“Oh? That’s a relief then. No wonder she’s got a little limp every time she walks around,” he observes with a saddened tone. “But I digress. You mentioned you were attending university?”
…Okay, why’d the topic of interest suddenly shift to you? 
But since it’s a harmless enough question, you reply with, “Yeah. The one that’s just a few blocks away. It’s kinda why the person who found Hani brought her here instead of a vet clinic. The nearest one’s like half an hour away.”
“Good call, good call.” He nods with a look of understanding. “I hope someone comes and adopts her. She deserves all the love she can get. Well, everyone here does of course.” 
You flash him a conniving smile, raising your brows a few times. “You could give that to her.”
Cutie shakes his head with another low-pitched laugh. “As much as I’d love to, my…living conditions won’t be suitable for her at all. Or any of the other animals for the matter.”
“Hm?” You stare at him curiously. “Your landlord doesn’t allow pets or something?”
“Mmm… Not exactly.”
The conversation pretty much ends there. Cutie excuses himself—saying that someone is waiting for him at home. You don’t know why your heart deflates a little at the very real possibility that he has a significant other. Then again, if you’re this whipped when you haven’t even seen his face, you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to settle down with someone who has.
Either way, it’s none of your business. And correction: you’re not whipped. Just…hyper aware of his presence every time he stops by.
Despite the fact that you’re dead-set on filing this strange fascination you have for the guy, however…
“Wait!”
Cutie turns around to face you with an inquisitive look. “Yes?”
You swallow thickly, deciding to just bite the bullet before your nerves get the best of you. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Cu—I mean, Glasses Guy in my head whenever you pay us a visit.”
He blinks for a few seconds, obviously nonplussed by your forwardness but you don’t think your pride can take it anymore if you had to refer to him as—
“You can call me Woo,” he says warmly and you can almost see the smile that stretches behind that black face mask.
Shit. Did your heart just stutter?
“Mister Woo—”
“Just Woo is fine.”
“Okay, Woo,” you start, kind of liking the way that something that’s obviously a nickname rolls off the tongue, “just let me know if you ever want to take Hani home. We’re open twenty four-seven, as you already know.”
He nods. “Sure thing. Is it okay if I can get your number for that?”
Now you have to fight the urge to scowl at him after he’s been so nice to you all night—and every other night he’s dropped by. 
This guy isn’t flirting with you. He said it himself—someone’s waiting for him at home. Plus, he’s expressed consistent interest in adopting a kitten for himself a handful of times before. Maybe he just connected with Hani on a level that’s above the others. Enough to ask for your number since the possibility of him bringing one of these angels home is becoming more and more real. 
Yeah, that’s definitely the reason!
So you give it to him—hastily scrawled behind an old flier gathering dust in one of the drawers on the front desk. It’s way too big to write just yours and the shelter’s contact details on, but the other calling cards are nowhere in sight. You’ll have to ask Mina if she’s seen them once—
“Thanks. I’ll keep in touch,” Woo tells you while folding the sheet of paper into a sleek black Louis Vuitton wallet.
Wait a minute.
Before you can even seriously ponder about what job he’s got to be able to afford that, Woo is already out of the door—heading into the evening streets without once looking back. 
“Gosh, I swear that guy’s an idol in disguise or something.”
That’s the first thing that Mina tells you when you find her doing a few rounds among the sleeping dogs in the far back. You haven’t even spoken a single word about your most recent exchange. 
“What makes you think that?” 
“He just exudes idol vibes, y’know? Shows up here when the place is deserted. Always acts subtle and inconspicuous. Oh and not to mention how hot he looks even with a face mask on! He could be that one idol your little sister is crazy about.” 
You roll your eyes at her odd ways of deduction. “Mina, I’ve seen enough of Haewon’s Mingyu merch to last a lifetime and Woo definitely does not look like him.”
“Oh?” Your coworker perks up with a mischievous smile. “You finally got his name, huh?”
God. This is going to be a long shift.
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The next time you see Woo is, surprisingly, not at an ungodly hour in the shelter. 
Well, it’s still at an ungodly hour, but the change in venue is a little baffling. You were up all night studying (read: cramming) for a major exam that you’ll take at eight in the morning the next day. When you were finally at your wit’s end, you decidedly hauled yourself away from your laptop and fluttered off to the only twenty four-hour coffee shop in the neighborhood. 
You don’t usually frequent this place because you’ve tasted their shitty americanos firsthand, but you’re not in the mood to grind some beans yourself and you’re much too stubborn to drink anything instant—convinced the powdered concoction would only make you sleepier.
So here you are, in line for an espresso because you’ve decided to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe not everything on the menu tastes less than it’s worth. With how many other students are pulling all-nighters here, that should be testament enough that they tolerate the place’s drinks enough to linger. 
But, to your horror, when you’re right in front of the graveyard shift barista, he informs you that wireless payments have been temporarily disabled and that they’re only accepting cash up front. You make a show of patting down the pockets of your hoodie to check for your wallet even if you know damn well that you left it back at your apartment on purpose. Just when you’re about to resign yourself to buying shitty instant coffee at a Seven Eleven instead, the person behind you in line clears his throat. 
“Uh, I can pay for her drink.” 
You don’t think you’ve ever whipped your head around to check for a person’s identity faster than you did at that moment. It’s not that you’re particularly obsessed with the low timber of his voice or anything, but you’d recognize the way the shelter’s late night regular speaks in a goddamn heartbeat.
“Woo?” you scowl as he maneuvers himself to the front of the line, bringing out that same Louis Vuitton wallet you were ogling the last time you saw him. 
He pulls out a few banknotes and places them on top of the counter with what you think is a smile behind his mask. “Couple that with four iced americanos please.”
You purposely hold your tongue about your personal vendetta against that particular drink as the barista nods, punching in Woo’s order and asking for a name. Just when you thought he’d say the same one he’d given when you’d asked, however—
“Soonyoung. Oh, and I’ll get those drinks to go, please.” 
Your gaze is on him the entire time as the two of you shuffle to the end of the counter to wait for your drinks. Woo is doing a pretty okay job at playing it cool despite the fact that he lied about the names on his orders. Or maybe he lied when he told you his name was Woo. 
Either way, does it matter? It’s not strange for people to make up fake names for baristas to write on their coffees—Mina does it all the time. But something about the idea that the man standing in front of you doesn’t look like a Soonyoung bothers you more than it should. It makes you wonder what his actual name is and if it’s weird to ask when he already gave you one to address him with—
“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he suddenly says and you nearly have a heart attack.
“Uh,” you start somewhat dumbly, before finally getting a hold of your brain. “I live around the area. Thought I could use a drink if I didn’t want to sleep through my lecture notes.”
He lets out a low chuckle and at that moment, you let yourself observe him a little more closely. His hair is hidden behind a black beanie which he expertly paired with an equally black parka that’s zipped up all the way. He’s wearing a different pair of glasses today—one with thick, black frames—and you’re starting to get an idea of what his favorite color might be.
“Is that why I haven’t seen you at the shelter these days?” he wonders. “Every time I dropped by last week, you weren’t on shift.”
Oh. Shit, he’s been visiting still? And he was looking for you?
“Yup, I needed to take a few days off because if I wanna graduate, I’ve got to keep myself from failing any of my majors,” you explain as briefly as you can—not wanting to go into detail about GPA requirements and your thesis. “How about you? Why’re you out and about at this hour, Soonyoung?”
It’s kind of adorable, how the tips of his ears flush pink at your words. “Soonyoung’s one of my friends. I actually went out tonight because I lost a bet and had to buy four of us coffee.”
You’re not sure how and why you feel a wave of relief wash over you, so instead, you brush the feeling aside before leaning against the counter. “Lost a bet about what, pray tell?”
Woo is quiet for a while, as if contemplating if he should unveil his losses to someone who’s virtually still a stranger before letting out a defeated sigh.
“Mario Kart.”
The snort you let out draws a few curious stares from other customers sitting near the counter and you force out an apology that’s underscored with a hiccup of laughter. Woo doesn’t seem at all offended by your reaction though. In fact, he seems even amused by it.
Not ten seconds later, the barista calls out his—rather, Soonyoung’s name and he hands you your drink while he carries a takeout package in his other hand. You try not to think too much about the way his fingers brush against yours when he gives it to you, thanking him despite the obvious redness settling across your cheeks.
“I actually meant to text you last week but I didn’t know if you were comfortable with it,” Woo admits as he opens the door to the coffee shop for you—thanking him as you step out of the air conditioned space and into the humid evening air. “I wanted to ask about the adoption requirements at the shelter.”
Part of you is a little skeptical about his explanation because… If he’s been dropping by your workplace as often as he claimed last week, then he could’ve just asked the other staff about the details. Why wait until he meets you again to bring it up? 
But of course, you’re way too polite to ask that to his face.
“I don’t mind you texting me about that or…anything, really,” you say, turning up the flap on the lid of your espresso before taking a small sip. Bearable. “It’s not like I’m too busy to respond to you. Well, I kinda am, but I can spare a few minutes.”
Woo nods with a soft laugh. “Okay. I’ll just get into detail via text later. I gotta bring these coffees back or they’ll chew me out for the rest of the night for being late. Oh, but do you need someone to walk home with you?”
The idea of having your not-work crush escorting you home flusters you more than it should and when you take another sip of your drink, it nearly goes down the wrong hole. Woo pats your back in comforting fashion when you sputter from your coffee, tears stinging your eyes as you attempt to breathe like a normal person. Fuck, you must look so fucking weird right now.
“I-I, um, sorry about that.” You cough into your fist, laughing uneasily as you grip your drink a little too tightly. “No, it’s fine. I only live a few blocks away.”
Now that you mention it, does that mean Woo is the same? If he’s out here in this specific neighborhood at this specific hour, that would only mean he lives in the area, or is at least staying for the meantime, right? But before you could get swept up by your own curiosity, you immediately sweep any and all ideas under the rug.
“Oh, that’s—that’s good to know.”
He sounds disappointed. Why does he sound disappointed?
“So I guess this is goodbye? ” you start. 
Woo nods briskly. “Yup. I’ll keep in touch.”
You chuckle. “That’s what you said last time.”
Whoa. Were you propositioning him or something? Sometimes, it baffles you how one minute, you’re choking on a cup of coffee—several shades embarrassed—and the next, you’re practically daring him to text you like he said he would.
“And I’ll make good on that as soon as time permits.” Woo shakes his head with a laugh. “It was nice seeing you again, though. Good luck with your exams.”
You can’t help the way your cheeks heat up yet again at the thought of him having remembered that you mentioned your exams. “Thanks. I think I need all the luck I can get.”
When Woo turns to look at you through those thick-rimmed glasses, you almost wish you could see the smile that’s undoubtedly spreading behind that pesky mask of his. 
“I’ll be happy to give it to you every time then.”
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Today was probably the shittiest day of the week.
Not only did you spectacularly flunk the exam you took this morning whilst running on less than two hours of sleep, but your thesis adviser emailed you about several concerns regarding the latest version of your manuscript. Needless to say, you spent a good chunk of your day holed up in the university library, consulting new reference materials to back up your data since the ones you used were much too outdated for your adviser’s liking. 
It should’ve been something you’d consider a walk in the park, given the many revisions that have preceded this one, but it just so happens that you’ve got three more exams to worry about for the remainder of the week. Meaning, you had to squeeze in a few minutes of studying in between editing your newest draft and telling yourself that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if you got held back for one semester before graduating. 
You’ve been so caught up with your piling academic responsibilities that you’ve barely looked at your phone. You only deigned to dig it out of the deepest pit of your backpack when you got a little hungry and wondered if they still let food delivery guys past the school gates. To your surprise, you’re greeted with a few text messages that you immediately feel horrible for not replying to the moment they were delivered. 
Unknown Number [10:45]: So about those adoption requirements…
Unknown Number [11:33]: Oh. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. It’s Woo.
Ignoring the fact that you’re obviously famished, you hastily type in a response after marking down Woo’s number with a black cat emoji right next to his name. It takes a moment because you’re so shaky, you end up suffering from a few typos here and there.
Me [13:10]: hey! sorry i was a bit busy and i just saw these…
Me [13:10]: what do you wanna know? i’m on a self-imposed lunch break rn
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:15]: No worries, I figured you got a long day ahead. Hope lunch is good at least.
Me [13:16]: actually, i haven’t ordered anything yet ‘cause time got away from me but Anyways
Me [13:16]: you wanted details abt the adoption process?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:18]: What? You haven't eaten yet?
Me [13:18]: yeah, but it’s no big deal. i could just have some food delivered.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:19]: Well, I’m out right now. I could just buy some food for you and drop it off. 
Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets when you read each word of Woo’s text message. Is he being serious right now? The guy just paid for your coffee last night—a coffee that you forgot to pay back because of how surprising the circumstances were. Now he’s offering to buy you lunch?
Me [13:20]: you really don’t have to, i swear!! i’ve still got a few discount vouchers in baenim
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:22]: I insist. I’ve got my bike with me anyway.
Me [13:22]: bike? like, a bicycle?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:23]: Mmm. Close. Anyway, what food do you want? 
Now what the hell does that mean?
Part of you feels like you should be freaked out with how…kind he’s being to you. The world is full of weirdos who play the nice guy just to do something despicable to you in the end. Yet another part of you—a less reasonable one, admittedly—insists that Woo is nothing like that, despite the fact that you barely know the guy. 
Then again, you’re tired, stressed out, and barely slept a wink last night. If the hot guy you’ve been quote-unquote crushing on is offering to buy you food, where’s the harm in accepting?
Me [13:25]: fine. i could use some yangnyeom chicken and tteokbokki. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:26]: Nice. I know a good place. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:27]: I’ll head out in a few, so just text me the address.
Right after sending your university’s pin location to Woo, you start to consider the chance of him being some sort of serial stalker. Could he be biding his time, trying to let your guard down and easing personal information out of you so he could do something nefarious when he gets you alone? Fuck. Maybe it’s a good idea you didn’t let him walk you home yesterday…
But despite the very real possibility of Woo being someone with bad intentions regardless of how nice he is, you see no problem in meeting him at the school gates when he arrives with your food. In fact, you don’t even feel apprehensive of him in spite of all the ideas you conjured in your head over the past hour.  
Me [14:15]: where are you?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [14:16]: Parked by the curb in front of a bookstore. You can’t miss me.
 Me [14:16]: i don’t even know what you Look like today, genius
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [14:17]: I told you, I’ve got my bike with me. I don’t see anyone else looking the same way within a twenty meter radius. 
You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. For someone you deemed as ‘nice’, he can get pretty mouthy if he wants to. 
You head to the general direction of the bookstore that Woo was talking about as you try to ignore your growling stomach. Given that the lunch rush is more or less over, the usual crowd of pedestrians has considerably thinned out and it makes it easier for you to scan the vicinity for any bike-wielding impromptu delivery guys. 
However, the only person that does stand out to you is some dude wearing a black leather jacket, chilling next to an expensive looking motorcycle as he taps away on his phone with a matching pair of leather gloves and everything. His face is obscured by a black helmet and you would’ve let your gaze go past him had it not been for a sudden realization that hits you right there.
Bike? Like, a bicycle?
Mmm. Close.
“Woo!” 
Of course the leather jacket-clad, expensive motorcycle-wielding man looks up at the sound of his name being called from across the street. The visor of his helmet is drawn all the way up and you could see that he isn’t wearing his glasses for good reason. He seems to perk up at the sight of you before grabbing something from the trunk of his motorcycle and jogging to meet you where you stood.
You’ve seen him sporting a spectrum of comfortable outfits during his late night visits, but this is the first time you’ve witnessed Woo looking as dapper as he is now.
“Late lunch delivery?” 
You don’t even try to hide the way you roll your eyes as you accept the paper bag he hands to you. “Thanks. How much do I owe you now? You already got me coffee and now lunch.”
He shakes his head and you find it a little ridiculous, considering he’s still wearing that huge helmet of his. “It’s on me. It’s the least I could do to repay you for being so accommodating.”
“Woo, I haven’t done shit for you ‘cause you’re yet to properly talk to me about the adoption process. What on earth are you talking about?” 
“But you will do shit for me when we do talk about it. I’m just repaying the favor in advance,” he rebuts cheekily before pulling back the sleeve of his jacket to check for the time. “Though as much as I want to do that now, I need to catch a flight in a few hours.”
That makes your expression morph into disbelief. “You need to catch a what?”
“A flight. Gotta head to Japan for a few days,” Woo tells you nonchalantly, as if heading to Japan for a few days is something people do on a regular basis. “Can you make sure no one else takes Hani home before I can settle everything on my end?”
You tell yourself that you’ve got time to mull over what this guy does for a living some other time. Clearing your throat, you manage an awkward smile. “Um, yeah, sure thing. You’re really attached to her, aren’t you?” 
“You can say that again,” he laughs softly. “She kinda reminds me of myself from a long time ago… But anyway, I’ve gotta go. Tell me what you think about the chicken when you’re done with it?”
You nod. “I’ll be as brutally honest with my review as possible.”
“Just the way I like it,” Woo replies, eyes crinkling with amusement.
When you head back to the library, the person you were sharing a table with looked after your stuff for you while you were gone. You thank her profusely before settling back into your seat, grabbing the takeout packages from the paper bag that Woo personally delivered to you. 
Before you can start wolfing down the delectable-smelling chicken he brought, however, you notice a cute sticky note plastered on the lid—a doodle of a cat with glasses and a speech bubble that says you can do it~ scribbled on the corner.
Don’t overwork yourself. It’s been ages since my last exam, but I know how hard it can be. Make sure to eat properly so you can absorb all the info you need.
When your head bangs against one of the many wooden tables in the library, the person seated at the far end stares at you with a concerned look. You can’t muster the energy to assure her that everything’s alright, though because…
That quote-unquote crush of yours? 
It’s starting to become a little too real.
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You’re in the middle of throwing out old files from the back room archive when Mina peeks her head into the doorway and says, “You’ve got a visitor again.”
One glance at the old wall clock hung above the steel cabinets tells you that it’s midnight, but you know for one that this mystery visitor isn’t Woo this time around. 
You’ve been keeping in touch with him through Kakao, since you can’t exactly afford to send international text messages to Japan and your new friend(?) has been keeping you posted about his shenanigans for the past week. He hasn’t replied to your last message from over three hours ago and you’re not so delusional to think he got on a plane back to Korea and is suddenly here to surprise you.
When you see who it is, though, your heart warms just a little.
“Why haven’t you been texting me back?” Haewon, your sister who’s two years younger, gets up from the seats lined up across the walls of the lobby. “I missed you!” 
You shake your head before pulling her into a hug. “I missed you, she says. But you’re really just looking for someone to show you around the city again, aren’t you?”
“Hey, missing you and needing a chaperone aren’t mutually exclusive,” she huffs and you notice that she’s in full fangirl gear again—a lightstick hanging off a strap slung across her shoulder, a windbreaker with her favorite boyband’s logo sewn on the front pocket, and of course, a photocard of Mingyu dangling from her little handbag.
Despite the fact that she’s also in college, Haewon chose to stay in your hometown in Jeju to pursue her studies there instead. The first few months since you left were the hardest—so unused to not having your little sister go on and on and on about how much she loves SEVENTEEN. But you’ve also come to appreciate the peace and quiet that living alone in Seoul affords you. 
Besides, with how much money she’s raised for being one of the more well-known event organizers in her fandom, Haewon can pretty much come visit you in Seoul whenever she feels like it. 
“I’m guessing your thirteen boyfriends have a thing going on?” you ask before glancing over at the playroom to make sure there aren’t any kittens left inside. 
Haewon nods enthusiastically. “Yup, they’re having a mini fanmeet outside their company building in a few days—”
“In a few days?” you parrot before gesturing for her to follow you in the break room so you can get changed. “What’re you doing out here all dressed up then?”
Your little sister rolls her eyes. “Unnie, I’m not some weirdo who wears their merch on a regular night for no reason. I came from this little cupsleeve event for Wonwoo’s birthday. Things ran a little late because we had to help clean up at the café.” 
While you’re not well-versed in fandom jargon, you have learned a few terms from Haewon here and there. Plus, she already took you to a cupsleeve event for another member’s birthday once. You’re not really sure who it was because the only one you do consistently remember is Mingyu—your sister’s ultimate bias, apparently. 
“What made you stop by then?” you wonder as you exchanged your work uniform for a loose shirt. “You didn’t tell me you were coming in advance. I could’ve fetched you from the airport.”
“I did tell you in advance.” She pouts. “But you said you were busy working on your manuscript when I did, so it must’ve slipped your mind.”
Oh. Okay, now you feel bad. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you this weekend with dinner?” 
Haewon whines. “Unnie, their fanmeet is on Saturday and I leave on Sunday.”
“So? How long is that going to be anyway?”
“Uh, all day?”
You sigh. “Fine. How about you crash in my place tonight and we can rewatch Hometown Cha Cha Cha while stuffing our faces with ramen?”
“Deal.”
After timing out for the evening, you say goodbye to Mina, who’s just waiting up for your other coworkers who’ll cover the next shift. Haewon talks your ear off about what happened in the event she attended as you both walked back to your apartment and, while only some of the things she’s saying makes sense to you, it’s nice to be in your little sister’s company again. 
“Oh, by the way, here.”
You stare at her curiously as she rummages through her bag, handing you a photocard enclosed in a dainty-looking toploader. 
“What’s this for?” you ask. 
“You told me back then that Wonwoo was your type,” Haewon explains with a grin. “So I did my best in one of the parlor games and won that extremely in-demand photocard just for you.”
You scan the piece of idol merchandise in your hands for a few minutes more—staring at Wonwoo’s face as if waiting for him to speak. You never really understood the appeal of collecting photocards. As long as it makes Haewon happy, you won’t bat an eyelash.
But now she’s giving you one to keep for yourself and the more you stare at the idol printed on the sturdy paper, the more you think that you’ve seen him somewhere.
Then again, Haewon has been talking about these boys since they debuted years ago. The familiarity must’ve stemmed from those numerous fancams and music show performances that she forced you to sit down and watch with her. 
“You better take care of him, okay?” Haewon pouts. “If I see him suddenly being sold for a high price, I’m never going to let you live it down.”
“I barely know how the market for this works, so you don’t have to worry about that,” you chuckle before carefully sliding the toploader inside your own bag. “So what ramen are we eating? Shin Ramyun or something else?”
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Me [21:17]: btw, when are you coming back again? 
Me [21:20]: someone was asking about hani earlier and i feel like you’ve gotta come back here to assert your dominance.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: Shit, sorry. I forgot about the time.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: My friends and I had a birthday celebration at the izakaya near our hotel. It’s been a while since we got to unwind like this.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:36]: Anyway, who’s the funny guy who thought he could have my cat?
Me [02:38]: wow. YOUR cat? 🤨🤨🤨
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:40]: You’re still awake?
Me [02:40]: yeah, my little sister is in seoul and we’re binging our favorite drama
Me [02:41]: how about you? why are You still awake?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:45]: Taking care of drunk friends. Remember Soonyoung?
Me [02:45]: what about him?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:47]: Pleading for forgiveness in the toilet while he retches his guts out.
Me [02:47]: huh. some birthday party. who’s the celebrant anyway?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:47]: Me.
“Whoa. You okay?” Haewon asks when you suddenly lurch forward on the couch, choking on the ramen you were in the middle of slurping. 
You thank your sister when she offers you a glass of water and you gulp it down to soothe the burning sensation in your throat. “It’s fine. I just received a surprising text is all.”
“From a boyfriend?” she teases.
You scowl. “No. From a friend. Just a friend.”
“Boo. But you’ll tell me once you land yourself your very own Hong Dusik, right?”
The look on your face only worsens at the reference she’s made to the drama that’s still playing on screen. “I’d actually rather die than have someone like Dusik as a boyfriend. If the whole enemies to lovers thing works with Hyejin, it really won't with me.”
“True, you’ve always been a mellow lover,” Haewon agrees and you roll your eyes. “That’s why Wonwoo would be perfect for you~”
“I think me landing a Hong Dusik-esque boyfriend is more likely than me getting together with a world famous idol but okay.”
You’re momentarily distracted from your conversation when your phone vibrates in your lap again, and— Fuck. 
You forgot to reply to Woo.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:55]: Fell asleep on me already?
Me [02:56]: no, no. sorry. my sister was just talking to me. 
Me [02:56]: anyway, it’s your BIRTHDAY?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:57]: Hahaha, yes. It’s been a while since I could sit down and actually celebrate it with my friends. 
Me [02:58]: is that why you went all the way to japan? for a little birthday getaway?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:58]: Hm… something like that 
Me [03:00]: i’ll give you hani’s adoption papers as a gift
Me [03:01]: that or you let ME treat YOU to something nice for a change
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:05]: Well, I’ll be back in Korea this Saturday, but won’t be free until late at night.
Me [03:05]: back to regular programming, huh?
Me [03:06]: we can celebrate later if you’re busy, you know. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:07]: It’s okay. I wanted to spend time with you anyways.
“You sure that’s just a friend you’re talking to?” Haewon asks with an unimpressed stare as you choke on your instant noodles for the second time. “The only way I’d react like that to a text is if my friend told me one of our professors is fucking his TA despite being married. If that’s the case, you gotta let me in on the juicy details.”
You make a face at her. “Isn’t that way too specific?”
“Isn’t that way too specific?” Haewon mocks. “Whatever you’ve got going on with this friend of yours, promise I’ll be the first to know once you make it official?”
“Haewon!”
For the sake of your own sanity, you only reply to Woo’s message once you’re tucked in bed and Haewon is comfortably dozing on the couch in the living room. She’s a heavy sleeper that passes out quickly after a long day, so you don’t feel particularly worried about your little sister barging into your room when you type out a response.
Me [03:43]: gotcha. just meet me at the shelter after your thing. 
Me [03:45]: happy birthday, woo.
You don’t wait for him to type out a reply anymore—eyes drooping into slumber as you let the screen of your phone fade into sleep mode. 
Unbeknownst to you, a man who just finished putting his intoxicated friends to bed an ocean away stares at your chat history with a fond smile, heart racing just a few beats faster at the prospect of what awaits him at home.
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You’re just about done cleaning up the big dog kennels when Woo drops by on a bright Saturday morning. 
The sound of his deep ‘hello’ nearly made you drop all the cleaning utensils you were about to put away. When you turn around to confirm that the shelter’s nighttime regular has indeed switched things up and decided to visit during daylight hours, you’re too busy scowling at him to mind the fact that you’re all gross and sweaty from all the hard labor. 
Sure, you texted him about taking up a day shift today, but you definitely didn’t expect him to visit when he just got back to Korea a few hours ago. 
Surprisingly, Woo isn’t donned in all black this time around. He’s wearing a gray pullover with some muddled text you can’t quite read with the hood pulled all the way up, concealing the white cap resting on top of his head. Of course, his signature face mask is still in between you and his no doubt handsome countenance, but you’ll take what you can get.
“What’re you doing here?” you ask, a bit breathless before you notice that takeout bag he’s setting down on one of the empty tables. “I thought you’re not gonna be free until tonight.”
“Thought you could use another lunch fix,” he says nonchalantly. “Well that and I wanted to personally give you some cool trinkets from Japan.”
The sentiment makes your heart stir a little, but you end up voicing out a dry laugh before stuffing the shelter’s cleaning paraphernalia inside the broom closet. “Keep doing all these nice things and I’ll start thinking you’re in love with me.”
Woo laughs but does absolutely nothing to deny the allegations.
“Here.” Your brows arch a little when he fishes something from the pocket of his hoodie, handing it to you. “I wasn’t sure which one you’d like so I just got all of them.”
You’re a bit reluctant to receive his gift in your current state—dirty hands, dirty clothes, dirty everything—but Woo doesn’t seem to mind when he drops a small plastic package full of…
“Kitties!” You coo out loud at the assortment of colorful enamel pins inside before gawking at him. “Seriously, Woo, you’re way too nice to me. I’m starting to feel indebted.”
He shakes his head with an adorable laugh. “It’s nothing. I swear. They just reminded me of you when my friends and I passed this one booth at a festival.”
Shit. They reminded him of you?
“So are you finally going to sit down and talk to me about adopting Hani or are you gonna keep skirting around again, mister?” You place a hand on your hip, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction as you tuck his gift safely in the back pocket of your jeans.
“Surprise, I actually came here to do just that. I still have an hour free before I have to go to work,” Woo admits and him mentioning work taps in on your innate curiosity about what he does for a living. “But your coworker said something about rounding up the dogs and putting them back in the kennel?”
Oh. Shit. 
As if on cue, Mina—along with a few on shift volunteers—emerge down the hall, all of their hands gripping several leashes as an army of dogs fills the hallway with excited and agitated barking alike. 
“Are we good to go?” Mina yells over the noise.
Trying not to look too disappointed that your time with Woo has been cut short, you give Mina a thumbs up before striding off to meet them halfway. You take it upon yourself to take a few of the dogs off one of the volunteers’ hands and he looks at you with withering relief when you do. 
“Yep. Everything’s as fresh as a daisy now,” you inform them. “Hope these guys didn’t make too big of a mess up in the front though. That would mean Kino’s turn for cleaning duty came a little early.”
“Hey!” The volunteer in question complains. “I’ve got a date later, noona. Don’t go saying weird stuff like that.”
You’re just about to tease him a little more but you suddenly feel the force of a couple of former strays tugging you forward disappear. That’s when you notice that Woo made his way to your side, guiding the dogs silently as he helps lead the first of them to the kennel.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insist but your friend(?) merely shakes his head. 
“It’s no big deal,” Woo reassures.
It doesn’t help that this particular hallway is a little cramped. You’re practically standing arm to arm as you all make it to the end. You can practically smell the expensive cologne wafting from his clothes amidst the scent of dog fur that’s starting to permeate the air. When Woo lets out another soft laugh when one of the dogs he has on a leash licks his hand, you know it’s over for you.
It takes about half an hour to settle all fifteen big dogs into their respective cages and by the time it’s over, you’re convinced that you need a shower now more than ever. As Mina and the rest of the volunteers head back to the reception room, you decide to take a break and help yourself to the takeout that Woo personally delivered yet again.
“Thanks for your help. Cleaning day is really one of the toughest days of the month. Especially when we have to clean up the big dog kennels,” you sigh before plopping into an empty seat in the break room. 
“Don’t mention it,” he says and you find yourself imagining a smile behind his mask yet again. “I actually have a dog at home, too, so I would now. But she’s definitely more tame than these guys.”
That makes you pause. “Is that why you’re beating around the bush so much about adopting Hani? You think she won’t get along with your dog?”
He hums a little before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “That’s one of the reasons, yes.”
“Well, you won’t know unless you try,” you huff as you unseal the takeout package—the delectable scent of yangnyeom chicken pervading your senses. “Anyway, you’re going to sign the papers this time, right? Right?”
You have a feeling that you’ve finally got him cornered, but before Woo can even formulate a response, a ringtone that definitely isn’t yours starts going off inside the break room. 
Your friend(????) answers it with a wistful sigh. 
It’s so quiet that you can vaguely make out the voice at the other end of the line saying, “Hyung. Everyone’s looking for you. Where are you?”
You try not to stare at Woo as he takes the call out of pure decency—distracting yourself with your food. But you can’t help but listen in when their conversation is the only thing you can hear at the moment. 
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Tell everyone I’m sorry for the hold up, Mingyu.” 
The moment that name leaves Woo’s mouth, you freeze mid-chew. Did he say Mingyu? Like…the idol that Haewon is downright obsessed with? No… It was probably just someone with the same name. It is pretty common, after all.
When he ends the call, you flash him a tight-lipped smile that manages to conceal your momentary surprise. “Rain check?”
“Rain check,” Woo sighs in agreement. 
You nod. “It’s okay. The more you keep delaying Hani’s adoption, the more presents I get from you.”
“And you’re absolutely right about that,” he humors you before reaching out to ruffle your hair. You haven’t even recovered from that little gesture he just did when he asks, “Hope our plans for later are still up though?”
Woo must’ve caught the look on your face with the way he retracts the hand that was just on top of your head to snicker into his palm. “Don’t tell me you forgot. We were supposed to celebrate my birthday, remember?”
Curse you and your habit of making plans at ass o’clock in the morning. You always forget them!
“Uh, it kinda slipped my mind?” you admit sheepishly as you pick at your food. “I ended up going for a day shift ‘cause I have to see my sister off at the airport tomorrow.” 
He nods in earnest and it kind of makes you feel bad about your short term memory. “It’s alright. I’ll just drop by some other time to get the paperwork over with. I’ve disturbed you enough as it is.”
“No, it’s fine!”
Your sudden outburst makes Woo look up at you with a confused stare. “Hm?”
“I-I can still meet up with you later,” you stammer and you have to force yourself not to bury your face in your hands out of sheer embarrassment. Pull yourself together, damn. “If you’re not too tired from your plans for the day, of course.”
He mentioned something about having to go to work, and while you can’t imagine what sort of work has to be urgently done on a Saturday, you’ll still respect his time. 
Woo blinks for a few seconds, as if still digesting what you just said before his eyes disappear behind his glasses with a soft chuckle. Your brows cinch together, not getting what’s so funny. 
“Noted. I’ll come pick you up here later, still? If you’re not comfortable with sharing your address with me yet.” 
He’s so thoughtful, you might actually give him all your personal details at this point. But at the end of the day you’re actually a person with a head full of common sense, so you answer him with, “Sure thing. Thanks for going out of your way to come hang out despite how busy you are.”
“No, thank you for always putting up with me,” Woo insists with a shake of his head. “I swear I’m not hassling you with this whole adoption thing on purpose. There’s just…a lot of things to consider on my end. I hope you understand.”
You wave away his concerns with a laugh. “Just keep getting me more of this chicken and we’ll call it quits.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
When Woo sees himself out of the break room, you fumble for the plastic package in the back of your jeans—taking one of the adorable black cat enamels before pinning it in the front pocket of your uniform. You can’t help the smile that creeps up your face when you see your reflection on the small mirror sitting on the table. 
How could you be this down bad for someone whose entire face you’ve never even seen before? 
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Haewon 🪷 [17:20]: Are you suuure you don’t wanna come to the fan meet?
Haewon 🪷 [17:21]: I’ve still got a few extra passes :3c you’d get to see wonwoo in the flesh!
Me  [17:30]: why do you want to set me up with wonwoo so badly 
Haewon 🪷 [17:31]: Bc we’re sisters? And it’d be cool if we stanned MinWon together?
Me  [17:32]: …not even gonna ask you to elaborate on that
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Haewon 🪷 [18:00]: Unnie ㅠㅠ
Me [18:00]: why? what’s wrong, hae?
Haewon 🪷[ 18:05]: Mingyu looks sooooo much better than I remember
Haewon 🪷[18:06]: The girlfriend allegations must be true
Haewon 🪷 [18:06]: Only a man in love can smile like that!
Me [18:07]: or: a man who relies on fanservice to get paid?
Haewon 🪷[ 18:08]: RUDE!!!!
Haewon 🪷 [18:08]: Here’s a pic of Wonwoo to shut you up
Haewon 🪷 [18:09]: [Sent an attachment]
Me [18:10]: idk if i should find the fact that you think some kpop guy affects me in any capacity amusing or concerning
Haewon 🪷 [18:11]: !!!! Take that back wtf?? Wonwoo isn’t just ‘some kpop guy’?????
Me [18:10]: sure he isn’t.
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Haewon 🪷 [19:45]: Good news!!
Me [19:45]: you’re finally going to get off my back about the whole wonwoo thing?
Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: No ^_^ My Monday final got canceled so I can stay in Seoul for a day more!
Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: Aka you don’t have to wake up early to drag your ass to the airport w me
Me [19:47]: oh. that’s cool. what’re your plans for tomorrow then?
Haewon 🪷 [19:48]: Gonna attend the pre-recording for a music show :3
Me [19:50]: …Haewon i swear to god if you ask me to do what you’re about to ask me to do
Haewon 🪷 [19:50]: Come with me pretty pleaaaase?
Haewon 🪷 [19:51]: I’m using my adorable dongsaeng powers to get you to agree
Me [19:55]: there’s no talking my way out of this, is there?
Haewon 🪷 [19:55]: Nope <3
Me [19:56]: fine. just text me the details. i need to go out soon. 
Haewon 🪷 [19:56]: HEHE have fun !!
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You weren’t lying when you texted Haewon that you had to go out soon. You agreed that you’d meet up with Woo for his post-birthday celebration at 9 P.M. Hell, you even called a local bakery to have a personalized cake made for pick-up before you head over to the rendezvous point. Everything was already set right from the start.
But then you ended up falling asleep while scrolling through Twitter and now the clock reads 10:45 P.M., and you’re rushing to pull on a ratty sweater instead of the cute outfit you planned for the night as you rush out of your apartment.
Me [10:47]: FUCK IM SORRY
Me [10:47]: i was SUPPOSED to take a five minute nap but i didn’t realize how tired i was
Me [10:48]: are you still up to hang out? i totally get it if not though.
You immediately stuff your phone in the pocket of your jeans—not even bothering to glance at Woo’s reply when it vibrates with a text notification. Your conscience is much too guild-ridden to read any sort of reassurance he’d undoubtedly give to you despite how long you’ve made him wait. 
Two hours, jeez. You’d be furious if someone was that late on you.
When you arrive at the shelter after doing a couple of quick detours, you’re panting like you just won first place in a marathon. Needless to say, it’s a pitiful sight to behold when Woo is leaning across his motorcycle—looking much too attractive in that stupid leather jacket of his. 
“Is this what the kids call fashionably late these days?” he chuckles.
If you weren’t so apologetic, you would’ve rolled your eyes so instead, you give him a crumpled paper bag with a smile that borders on overcompensating.
“Happy birthday?”
Woo looks like he was just about to say something until a quiet mewl interrupts him midway. You gaze at him with a puzzled look until he stifles a soft laugh, pulling the lapel of his jacket open to reveal—
“Hani?” You scowl.
The black kitten is tucked away snugly in the inner pocket of Woo’s jacket—nearly blending in with the leather. It’s almost as if two pairs of big yellow eyes are staring at you from a void. 
“Finally got the papers over with when you fell asleep on me,” Woo chuckles before scratching behind her ears. “So I guess it wasn’t so bad that you made me wait for two hours.” 
“Hey, I said I was sorry!”
“Yes, and I heard you,” he insists before peering inside the paper bag you gave him. “What’s this?”
“No peeking until we get to your good old thinking spot,” you scold, smacking his hand away. 
A hand that you just noticed is also clad in a leather glove. 
He shakes his head playfully before putting his arms up in surrender. “For someone who’s two hours late, you’re pretty demanding.”
“Woo!”
During his last few days in Japan, Woo told you about his favorite thinking spot that’s specifically located beneath Hannam Bridge. There’s an old watchtower that was built before the bridge even existed. I go there when I want to clear my head. 
When he said he wanted to bring you there for his belated birthday bash, the ghastly possibility of him turning out to be a serial killer luring you to your doom crossed your mind for half a second before you ended up agreeing anyway.
Now here you are, drowning in the musk of his cologne as you press your cheek against the fabric of his jacket. He’s definitely going past the speed limit with how sharply the wind sings in your ears, but instead of complaining about it, you tighten your arms around his torso—letting the warmth of his body seep into yours. 
“It’s not so scary if you don’t think about it too much,” you hear him shout from the front. “Look to your right! This is why I’ve always liked doing late night rides!”
Easy for him to say. He’s brave enough to harbor a kitten inside his jacket and a person who’s never ridden a motorcycle before at a hundred kilometers per hour! But despite how terrified you are of falling off his bike, you do as he says anyways.
When you tilt your gaze in the direction of the Han River, you’re immediately greeted by the dazzling lights that glimmer across the water. You haven’t been to the districts on the other side of the river, but you think you’re content with getting to see them from afar.
With the roar of an engine ringing in your ears. With the summer evening breeze whipping past your face.
With your arms around someone who’s slowly but surely leaving his mark in your life. 
“Are you sure this is legal?”
Your companion glances behind him as he makes his way to the aforementioned watch tower—a knapsack full of god-knows-what slung around his shoulder while he carries the paper bag with your “gift” in his free hand. “I’ve never seen a single ‘No Trespassing' sign since I’ve started going here ages ago, so probably.”
“Probably?” you parrot and Hani, who you’ve deigned to carry in your arms after that grueling motorcycle ride, meows as if she’s just as incredulous as you are. “So it’s still possible for us to get arrested?”
“Yeah, but what’s life without a little risk?” 
Unbelievable.
Yet, despite the common sense you were oh-so proud of this morning, you still follow him up the winding steps of the watchtower, which is hardly even a watchtower given that it’s a few meters beneath the widest bridge in the city. Woo wasn’t lying about his strange description of it after all.
“Well, here we are,” he announces when the two of you reach the platform on the very top. The edges are lined with metal rails that are beginning to rust with age, but seem sturdy enough to grant you some sense of security—no matter how sparse. “I’ll just set this up. You can go enjoy the view if you want.”
Woo doesn’t even let you get a word in before he unzips his bag and brings out a checkered picnic blanket. He gently lays it across the dusty concrete, smoothing out the fabric before fishing some more stuff inside his gym-bag-turned-picnic-basket. You keep yourself from making any snide comments about his choice of venue because despite the unorthodox location, you actually get why he’d find it peaceful here.
It’s far enough from the freeway that the sound of vehicles rushing through the night can barely reach your ears. If you listen closely enough, you can even hear the water flowing below much more clearly. You close your eyes to get a better feel of the place—imagining a six-foot something guy leaning across the rusty railings as he watches the city lights sparkle across the Han River.
“There we go.” 
You startle when you feel Woo’s warm, leather-clad hand on your shoulder—prompting you to turn around and see his handiwork. In the middle of the picnic blanket is something that looks suspiciously like a portable emergency light. How he got his hands on something like that, you’re not entirely sure, so you decide to focus on the other details instead. 
Like the two unopened bottles of soju right next to a take-out package of your favorite yangnyeom chicken. 
“Didn’t we agree that I was treating you to something this time around?” you grumble as you absentmindedly stroke Hani’s fur. 
“We did, but then you overslept and—”
“Okay, fine! Point taken!”
Woo snickers as he hands you the paper bag you brought for the trip. It looks even worse than it was when you ran all the way to the shelter and you can only hope the package inside isn’t completely ruined. 
You decide to let Hani down inside the gym bag that Woo left unzipped. Surprisingly, the newly adopted kitten makes a home out of it quickly—curling up into a ball as her tail swishes every now and again. Cute.
“Don’t judge, okay?” You breathe out nervously as you take the plastic container out of the bag. “I had a legit cake custom-made and everything but…yeah. Overslept.”
When Woo doesn’t respond a second too long, your gaze nervously rivets to his face to parse for a reaction. Was he disappointed? Should you have gotten a different design?
The moment you see the dazzled look in his eyes, however, you realize that isn’t the case.
He receives the little cupcake with open arms when you give it to him. It’s chocolate topped with bad fondant icing art, but you didn’t really have a choice. When you spotted it in the convenience store earlier, you grabbed the one that looked most like a kitten and dipped. It’s nice to know that he might actually like it after all.
“Oh and uh, sorry, but I couldn’t bring any candles for you to blow,” you add sheepishly. “You can just make a wish and pretend.” 
Woo’s gaze drifts to you for a moment before his eyes crinkle with laughter. “I don’t really have to do that though. My wish has already come true.”
Huh?
To your chagrin, he doesn’t elaborate. Instead, Woo invites you to sit on the picnic blanket—carefully removing his boots so he wouldn’t track dirt all over the food and you follow suit. 
You fill the silence with your goings-on for the rest of the day and how exactly you ended up dozing off and he’s kind enough to listen to every word. However, when you ask if he wants to do a toast, he shakes his head.
“I need to drive you back, remember?” 
You shoot him a dirty look. “So you took me all the way out here just so I can have two bottles of soju all to myself while you sit there and listen to me talk about my day?”
“...Yes?”
Men are so fucking infuriating sometimes, you can hardly believe it.
“Nope.” You firmly shake your head—plucking the bottle opener he set down on the blanket to pop the caps off. “You’re drinking with me. Just quit driving past the speed limit so we won’t die in a freak accident.” 
You immediately notice the stiffness in his shoulders as you shove the bottle of soju in his hands and part of you feels kind of bad for being pushy. For a moment, you allow yourself to scrutinize him for a bit longer. What could possibly be deterring him from drinking after going out of his way to do all this? 
That’s when you realize he still has his mask on.
Does he…have issues about people seeing his face?
That would definitely explain why he hasn’t once taken it off in all the times you’ve met him so far. With that in mind, you promptly decide to tell him that okay, he doesn’t have to if he really doesn’t want to, but then Woo is already reaching up to peel the blasted face mask off. 
Your chest seizes with panic, hands flying in front of you to keep him from doing something against his will. But the effort is futile because it only takes a second for him to remove and… 
Fuck.
Cue the choir of angels because goddamn does this man look like heaven.
Woo shifts somewhat uncomfortably under your stare, as if he’s waiting for you to blow up all over his face or something. But you’re much too mesmerized by too many things to form any sort of response right away. 
The sharp cut of his jaw. The gentle curve of his Cupid’s bow. The tinge of red spreading across his cheeks.
“I can’t believe you’ve been gatekeeping yourself from me all this time,” you whisper with a strained laugh—purposely peeling your gaze away for the sake of your own sanity. “I knew you were hot, but…God. I hate you.”
“You…don’t recognize me?” 
The question brings you out of your feelings for a moment, making you glance at him with a questioning stare. “Am I supposed to?”
Woo gapes at the question like he didn’t expect that to be your response before shaking his head vigorously. 
“N-No. Anyway, you said I was hot but you hate me?”
You narrow your eyes at him before taking your first swig of soju. “Don’t start getting all cocky with me, mister! I’ve got eyes and I can’t help that you’re objectively attractive. Just stating facts here.”
When Woo smiles for the first time without the figurative cockblock that is his signature black face mask and honestly? If you died right now, you’d die happily. 
The night presses on in a haze of soju, spicy chicken, and the occasional visit from Hani who uses either of your laps as her personal bed for about five minutes before switching to the other person. 
This is the longest you’ve been with Woo and you’re starting to realize that he isn’t much of a talker, which you completely understand. You can’t imagine someone who’s hell-bent on keeping what he looks like a secret for so long being a chatterbox.
“Oh, but you mentioned something to me at the shelter one time,” you pipe up before scooping a forkful of chicken into your mouth. 
“Yeah? What is it?” Woo asks softly as he pets Hani’s back. 
Feeling just a little bit tipsy from the alcohol, you try not to stare too hard at his handsome face or the way his lip curls at the edges with a tiny smile when Hani purrs from his touch.
“You said Hani reminded you of yourself from before,” you whisper as your gaze drifts to his leather-gloved hands. “Is it okay to ask what you meant by that?”
The sound of the river flowing beneath the watchtower fills your ears as you bask in the silence. It’s a pretty personal question. You’d totally get it if he decides not to answer, but you’re much too curious to keep yourself from asking. 
“Well, I wasn’t a stray or anything, but there was a time in my life that I felt so…aimless. I lost someone near and dear to me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it for a very long time.”
Hearing the earnest ring of Woo’s voice, you force yourself to snap out of your subtle inebriation—scooting a little bit closer to him on the blanket to make sure you catch every word. 
“I didn’t get into a life-threatening accident like this one did either, but…” He trails off for a moment, stroking the scar that you know runs along Hani’s sternum but has long healed with his fingers. 
“I managed to get back on track when the people around me showed me their support. They didn’t leave even if all I wanted was to be left alone. If it weren’t for them, it might’ve taken me even longer to move past what happened. Worse, I might not have moved past it at all.
“When I saw Hani that day, she looked scared of all the other cats. Like she wasn’t ready to let anyone get close to her just yet.” Woo breathes deeply before taking a small sip from his bottle. “I guess I was the same way, too. Healing isn’t linear. Sometimes, when I think I’m all better, one day, I just spiral back to where I started in the next one. That’s…kind of where you fit into the picture, actually.”
The brief pause in his story makes you blink at him, surprised. “Me?”
He nods. “You used to feed the strays in your neighborhood, right? You even had a schedule and everything.”
“That was months ago,” you mutter. “You mean you already knew me back then? Because of that?”
“I…actually live in that area, too.” He clears his throat, that familiar blush settling across his cheeks once again. “I often saw you feeding the strays because that’s usually the time I got back from the cemetery. One day, things got a bit too much and I kind of��broke down in the park instead of just doing that at home.”
He says it like he’s embarrassed and now that he mentioned it, you vaguely remember consoling a stranger during your days before volunteering at the shelter. You don’t recall much of it though—just the memory of awkwardly patting his back before sending him off feeling just a bit better because you saw him smile a little.
Other than that, you’re drawing blanks.
“How exactly did I help you, though? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
“I wouldn’t say you helped me or anything, but…” Woo pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose while slyly avoiding your eyes. “I distinctly remember you saying something like—”
Hey, it’s just a bad day. Or a bad week. Or a bad month. I don’t know. But it’s not a bad life. It’ll get better soon. I promise.
Fuck. Maybe you do remember.
“It didn’t really mean much to me at the time. Honestly, it kind of pissed me off at first,” Woo admits with a guilty chuckle before taking another sip. “But you were right. Sometimes, things got worse. Other times, it got better. But one day, I realized that I got to a point where it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.
“I’m not usually this open about my problems, but I learned overtime that talking about them makes them less taxing to deal with. Almost like I’m just talking about the weather, you know?” He smiles softly and you swear your heart melts at the sight of it. “And…I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.” 
“Now you’re here spilling your guts out to some random college senior,” you snicker before taking another swig of your soju. You pout when you realize the bottle’s all empty before placing it back on the picnic blanket. “That’s some character development.”
“It really is.”
The silence sets once more and your eyes wander off to the city so close yet so far away. The lights from the skyscrapers glimmer like stars across the calm waters of the Han River and you like to think it compensates for the fact that the sky is blocked out by the bridge stretched far and wide above you. 
This isn’t how you imagined your first stargazing date would be like, but it’s a good start.
Although, the moment the idea crosses your mind, you’re quick to jolt at your own thoughts. 
This isn’t a date. You’re just celebrating his birthday together. Alone. On a picnic blanket. With one of the loveliest sceneries you’ve laid your eyes on. In a place where he claims that he never once showed to anyone else. 
“Hey, is this—”
Your breath hitches in your throat when you turn to look at Woo—only to find his face mere inches from yours. 
“What?” he whispers and despite the fact that you’re wearing a sweater, you feel goosebumps rise across the skin of your shoulders. 
“Uh.” Fuck. “Is this a date?”
His mouth curves into a smile that you can’t quite get a read on. “It can be what you want it to be.”
“Okay,” you breathe out, suddenly feeling hot all over as his eyes flicker to your lips. “Just so you know, I don’t kiss on the first date.”
When Woo laughs again, it’s a deep-seated noise that makes your insides tingle with an indescribable feeling. You don’t really want to give it a name.
“Okay,” he repeats before pressing his forehead against yours. “We can have our first date next time then.”
Of course the sly fucker dives in for a kiss anyway.
“H-Hey,” you whisper in between, trying not to get too distracted with how plump his lips are as you keep holding him still by his broad shoulders. “You’re going to end up crushing Hani if you d-don’t cut it out!”
Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away regretfully. For a moment, he stares at the sleepy kitten on his lap, gazing around cluelessly after being roused from slumber. His expression softens for a moment as he scoops her up with both hands, settling her down in the comfort of his gym bag. She lets out a satisfied mewl before curling into a ball once more.
“Better?” 
You’re not sure if he’s asking you or the cat, but…
“Better,” you whisper before fisting the lapels of his jacket and crushing your lips with his.
You don’t know where you’re pulling all this pent-up frustration from. During the very brief period that you’ve gotten closer to Woo, your general opinion about him never really deviated from he’s cute and he’s hot. Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet here you are, gasping into his mouth as he flattens his tongue against yours. A strong arm hooks around your waist, pressing your bodies infinitesimally closer and your skin is slowly hitting a fever pitch beneath your clothes. Something wild and all-consuming burns in your veins and you channel it into a moan that makes his grip on you grow tighter. 
You don’t know how exactly you wound up on top of his lap—knees planted on either side of his hips as he continues devouring you with no intention of leaving anything behind. You can feel the expensive material of his leather gloves when his fingers graze along the hem of your sweater. Your skin tingles like every nerve ending has been set alight and if you weren’t already rendered dizzy by his intoxicating cologne, you’re in for a ride with each second his touch hikes further up your torso.
Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away momentarily—eyes aflame before he removes his fogged up glasses with one hand, tossing them somewhat carelessly on the picnic blanket. 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
Why was that so hot?
You’re too stunned to even draw a breath as he stares you down without the constant partition of his glasses. Has his gaze always been this sharp? Have those eyes always been transfixed on you?
“This…This wasn’t part of the plan, if you’re wondering.” Woo croons out the words huskily. Like an afterthought he only considered out of concern for you. Cute. “I swear I didn’t have any ulterior motives when—”
You giggle, before pressing a kiss on his nose. Woo’s eyes widen just a fraction.
“What made you cave then?” 
The way his Adam’s apple bobs has no right to be that alluring, but it pulls you in anyway. “You looked really cute tonight.”
“Is that all?”
“Um, I thought it was sweet that you still got me a cupcake after you overslept?”
You groan, forehead bumping into the crook of his neck. Jesus Christ, he smells so fucking good. “How long are you going to hold that over my head for?”
You feel the vibrations of his laughter humming against your connected chests and your heart swells as Woo wraps his arms around your frame—pulling you into a firm embrace as the heat that engulfed the both of you slowly simmered into the cool evening air. You can feel him tracing idle shapes along your shoulder blades and the small of your back, and it does nothing to keep you from melting into his touch.
It’s so strange how easily you gave into him. You’ve formally known Woo for about three months and became legitimate friends(?) for less than three weeks. If you told Haewon about this whirlwind romance of yours, she’d hit you upside the head and tell you you’re being way too hasty for a man. 
But if it’s a man with a black kitten taking a nap in his gym bag while he kisses you senseless underneath one of Seoul’s busiest freeways, you suppose you can make an exception.
“We should go,” Woo murmurs softly. “You’ve still got to accompany your sister to the airport right?”
“Mmm. Nope. She’s staying a day longer,” you inform him with the same quiet tone, letting your fingers trail up to his hair so you can toy with the strands in your fingertips. “But I do have some more edits to get over with in my final manuscript, so…yeah. We should go.”
Despite wanting nothing but to stay there in Woo’s little safe haven, the two of you manage to miraculously peel yourselves away from each other. Your face is hot the entire time you helped clean up his little picnic setup. When he shuts off the portable emergency light, you squint as you parse your way through the darkness. 
You kind of end up tripping on air like a complete idiot, but before you can tumble off the rails and into the river, Woo catches you by the waist—not so different from how he held you ten minutes prior.
“Careful,” he mutters as he lets you go and you can’t help but silently mourn the loss of his touch again. “I don’t want to be accused of being a murderer.”
You snicker as he gently scoops Hani out of the gym bag and back into the spacious compartment in the lapel of his leather jacket. For a sleepy kitten, she’s surprisingly compliant. “I actually thought all this time you were some sort of serial killer trying to lure me to my doom.”
“You thought that but you came with me anyway?”
“Why not? You’re hot.”
That night, you let Woo drive you back home now that he’s more or less beaten the serial killer allegations. You tell him that he doesn’t have to walk you to your apartment, but he insists—saying that he can afford to leave Hani on his bike for a few minutes. 
Of course, it ends up with another heated makeout session against your front door. This time, those stupid leather-clad fingers hike high enough on your back to toy with the clasp of your bra while his other hand remains tangled in your hair to pull you impossibly closer.
“I have to go,” he rasps before swiping his tongue along his bottom lip—giving you a sudden itch to sink your teeth into it. “But you’re making it really hard to leave.” 
He’s making it really hard to tell him to go home, too, but as much as you want to kiss the night away, you still have some of your wits about you.
You chuckle as you reluctantly extract his wandering hands away from your body. Woo sighs in surrender with a nearly inaudible laugh.
“You already bent my I don’t kiss on the first date rule, genius,” you remind him breathlessly. “Don’t push your luck just yet until we’ve had that so-called first date next time.” 
He grins. “So there’s going to be a next time?”
Deciding to keep him on his toes, you bat your eyelashes coquettishly at him. “Only if you want to.”
Woo leans in to press his lips against the corner of your mouth—trying his best to suppress the grin on his face. 
“I’ll hold you to it then.”
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Despite having lived in Seoul for four years and having a hardcore fangirl for a sister, today’s the first time you’ll be attending the pre-recording session for a music show. 
Needless to say, you feel like an outsider amongst the fans armed with all sorts of idol merchandise and dressed in the prettiest outfits. Haewon managed to mooch a lightstick off one of her friends for you to use, but despite the fact that you know not a single soul would give two shits about you here, the alienating sensation remains. 
“Hey, don’t be too nervous,” your little sister chortles as the marshals usher the crowd into the studio. “All you gotta do is wave that lightstick to the beat. You’ll blend right in, I promise.”
You crack her a nervous smile. Oh, the things you do to make Haewon happy.
It’s a little bit of a blur from there. You squeeze past the throng of fans while simultaneously trying not to lose your sister in the crowd. Some of the staff are handing out photocards that you hear are exclusively given away at this specific broadcast and were worth hundreds of thousands of won. You’re not sure which member Haewon got for you, but knowing your little sister, she must’ve snagged one of Wonwoo’s.
When the two of you are settled in your seats, you take the time to admire the set. You never imagined idol music show stages being this massive in person. In fact, you never really spared an active thought about them. Most of the info you do know about these kinds of things are secondhand accounts from Haewon from all the times she’s been to several broadcasting studios across the city. 
“Did you bring the PC I got you last time?” she asks before taking out the broadcast ones out of their plastic package. 
You shake your head. “Sorry. That Wonwoo’s sitting in a different bag.”
“Well, at least you haven’t sold him,” your little sister laughs before handing you one of the cards in her hands. “I told the staff to give us Mingyu and Wonwoo, but they gave me Hoshi and Wonwoo. It’s okay though, ‘cause Hoshi’s my bias wrecker anyway.”
Ah. More fandom jargon that you’re just now hearing about.
Just as the staff is starting to do the final preparations on stage, you decide to check out the broadcast PC that Haewon just gave to you. When your eyes land on Wonwoo’s face, however, you suddenly feel your blood freeze in your veins. 
You…don’t recognize me?
One of the staff members announces that the boys will be out shortly to begin the pre-recording session but the words are all but muted in your ears. 
Because how the hell can you focus on anything else when the face of the man who drove you back home last night—the man who kissed you until you were lightheaded—is plastered on a photocard that could be exchanged for an entire fortune?
This can’t be right, you muse with a scowl—fishing your phone out of your bag as your trembling fingers make haste to open your messaging app. He can’t be the same guy. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:35]: Good morning, I hope you got enough rest!
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:36]: I have a schedule later this morning so I might be MIA 
Me [09:40]: it’s cool. i just woke up actually hahaha
Me [09:40]: i also don’t mind! i’m heading out with my sister in a while too
Me [09:41]: have fun at work(?)
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:45]: Haha I will :) Have fun with your sister!
With a deep breath, you lock your phone just as the lights start to dim and the crowd cheers their hearts out. Haewon urges you to turn on your lightstick and the part of the studio that’s filled to the brim with an audience is lit up with hundreds of dazzling lights.  
You would’ve appreciated the sight if only a certain someone didn’t play you for a fucking fool.
Just as promised, the boys that your little sister has been crazy about since their debut all fill the stage gradually. Some of them greet the fans with wide grins and silly little gestures. The others are a little more reserved with their greetings—all shy smiles and reserved movements.
Like Wonwoo, for example.
After several years of only knowing Mingyu thanks to Haewon, this is the first time you were able to pick out another one of them on stage with ease. Why wouldn’t you be able to recognize him? 
He had you pressed up against your front door only a few hours ago.
It all made sense now. The affinity for keeping a face mask on. The late night visits. The fact that he seems to make an exorbitant amount of money from a job he doesn’t want to disclose.
Woo is Wonwoo from SEVENTEEN. 
And he somehow forgot to let you know over the course of your time together. 
You try to keep down the frustration that burns in your throat, making you feel like the roof of your mouth is stuffed with cotton. It’s much easier to mask your feelings once the performers all get into position and the music starts. The loud beat blaring from the speakers coupled with the well-practiced fanchants from the audience easily overpower the sound of your hitched breathing. Even Haewon was too engrossed with the performance to notice your distress.
Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. Especially when Wonwoo’s the one who starts up the first verse of their newest song. 
He looks so…different from the gentle giant you’ve come to know over the past few weeks. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes that you know is all for show, but it makes your spine tingle at the sight of it nonetheless. The words to the song are raspily sung into the mic and if you weren’t convinced that he and Woo aren’t the same person, you most certainly are now.
After all, it’s his fucking voice that got you so down bad in the first place.
Once his part is done, Wonwoo quickly heads over to the next formation—a complete professional by heart. He belts out each dance move with such perfect precision and you wouldn’t expect any less from an idol who’s spent years honing his talents. But despite how awe-struck you are to see this side of him in person, it just wasn’t enough to completely erase the feeling that you’ve been betrayed.
It stings even more when the song ends and the studio is filled with deafening screams from the audience yet again. For once, Wonwoo’s stoic expression cracks with a handsome grin as he and the rest of his bandmates huddle together and exchange high fives. 
That person on stage is both the man you caught feelings for and a stranger at the same time. He easily smiles at the fans the same way he would smile at you, but the difference between Woo and Wonwoo is that only one of them is willing to show this part of his life to the rest of the world. 
Did he not trust you enough? Did he think you’d act like some crazy fan if he told you the truth?
You love Haewon. You love your little sister more than anything in the world, but you can’t pretend that things are okay when the man who kept you in the dark is standing right in front of you, clueless of the revelation that occurred to you just now.
“Where are you going?” Haewon calls out when you make your way out of the rows of seats—earning yourself a collection of glares from the other fans in the vicinity. “Unnie, hey!”
The last thing you want to do is ditch her for something you promised you’d see through until the end but you’re just so fucking done. You don’t want to see Wonwoo right now. Or hear him and his stupidly perfect voice through the studio’s sound system. 
Right now, you just…want to be alone.
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About two weeks after you stormed out of the first and last music show pre-recording you’ll ever attend in your life, things have more or less mellowed out. Sort of.
You’ve been taking fewer and fewer shifts at the shelter as graduation draws ever-so near. But aside from wanting to focus on getting your academic backlogs over with, you also wanted to stay away from the one place that Woo—or should you say Wonwoo—can easily find you and subsequently corner you to talk. Because you don’t want to talk to someone who’s basically been lying to your face the entire time you’ve been friends.
Well, you suppose if you really don’t want to hear even a peep out of him, you should’ve blocked his number altogether. But that’s not really the case.
Your phone buzzes while you’re in the middle of signing off adoption papers to a couple who wanted to adopt one of the shelter cats. You thought it was pretty adorable of them to make that decision since having a pet together is almost as good as having a kid together after all.
Thinking it was from your adviser, you snuck a glance towards the notifications in your homescreen. But when you see a familiar emoji plastered on the sender’s nickname, you’re quick to put it face down on the wooden desk.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:35]: Good morning. Are you at the shelter today? Can I speak to you?
How he has it in him to keep texting you as if you haven’t given him nothing but radio silence for the past two weeks, you’re not sure. Wonwoo must’ve sensed that something was amiss the moment you stopped replying to him altogether, but he never tried to pester you about what was wrong. Instead, he simply continued sending all those messages to check in on you despite the fact that it’s almost as if he’s talking to a wall.
Well, it’s not like you have time to entertain him now anyways. 
“Are you sure she doesn’t have a name yet?” One of your clients—the boyfriend—asks as he smooths down his newly adopted Maine Coon’s fur. 
The girlfriend rolls her eyes. “You heard the nice shelter lady, Vern. This one just wouldn’t respond to any name they tried to give her.”
You agree with a half-hearted laugh, trying your best to ignore the guilt that’s perpetually swelling in your heart the longer you ignore Wonwoo’s pleas. “Yup. Our director said she’s got a bit of an attitude, but I think she just has high standards.”
Vern the Boyfriend makes a funny face at that. “So you’re saying that she doesn’t like the names she’s been given so far?”
“Mhmm. We tried Cupcake, Winter, Princess, and Lily, but she liked none of those. Try naming her something fancy. ”
“Chairman Meow?”
“Vern.” 
“What? You gotta admit it’s funny, Sohee.”
Sohee the Girlfriend rolls her eyes. “Yes, but it’s an overused pun now! Think of something else.”
“Hmm. How about…Milana?”
“Is that because Seokmin wouldn’t shut up about his trip to Milan?”
“Ugh, yeah. Two months later and he still won’t stop talking about—”
“The gorgonzola he had for dinner the night before he flew back to Korea. I know. You won’t stop talking about it either.”
“Hey, Seokmin-hyung pays great attention to detail when it comes to food. You can’t help but want it, too.”
As you observe the friendly banter between the couple, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You don’t come across two people who complement each other as well as they do, and from the curious glint in their newly adopted cat’s eyes, you think she likes being in their company as well.
“Fine, let’s test it out first,” Sohee huffs before scratching behind the Maine Coon’s ears. “We’re going to call you Milana. Does that sound good to you?”
When the cat nuzzles her hand with a pleased meow, Sohee and Vern turn to glance at each other at the same time—two matching smiles plastered on their faces.
God. You can only wish to have what they do.
Once the rest of the documents have been finalized, you and Mina—who just got back from updating the vaccination records for all the animals in the shelter—see your most recent clients off. Vern the Boyfriend, Sohee the Girlfriend, and Milana the Child are off to the streets to start the next chapter of their lives or whatever.
When the door to the front entrance clicks shut, you let out the longest, deepest sigh known to mankind. Your coworker stifles a laugh.
“Looks like someone’s jealous,” Mina comments. 
You whine. “How could I not be jealous of that? They’re so in love, it’s sickening. They even got a kid together!” 
“You know, you could easily have that too if you just stopped avoiding—”
“Oh, look at the time!” You interrupt her a little too theatrically, stomping off to the direction of the break room. “Gotta go meet my thesis adviser. Kino and the other volunteers should show up in the next hour, though!”
You don’t catch the frustrated look on Mina’s face as you make a hasty retreat, but it doesn’t make you any less guilty about trying to skirt around the topic every chance you get. Mina’s always had your back during these past two weeks. Though you never told her why you’re avoiding your not-so-quote-unquote crush like the plague, she’d always come up with excuses and alibis to throw him off your trail. 
Which, coincidentally, happens again just as you’re changing out of your uniform.
“I don’t suppose you’re looking for a sibling for Hani?” you hear Mina sigh from outside.
The person she’s talking to laughs softly. “No. I think you know why I’m here again.”
God. That fucking voice.
“Well, again, she’s not here,” your coworker bluffs. “And uh, word of advice, I get that you’re hot shit and all, but if you keep trying to bother my friend who, for some reason, doesn’t want anything to do with you, I might have to call the authorities.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.
That’s a little too different from the typical ‘oh I’m sure she’ll come around one of these days’ spiel that Mina always feeds to Wonwoo every time he visits. Sure, you’re not yet ready to face him yet after everything that’s happened, but it’s not like you want him thrown in jail—
“Uh, right. I get it,” he says awkwardly, clearing his throat in the process. “It’s just that she hasn’t spoken to me in days and I’m a little worried—”
“That’s clearly a sign for you to back off, buddy.” You can almost see Mina with her arms crossed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been keeping myself from saying anything about it, but I’ve always found it strange how often you visit a goddamn animal shelter. And now that she’s clearly avoiding you, you’re still trying to corner her? Are you a stalker or something?”
Fuck. This isn’t how the conversation is supposed to go! 
Mina’s job is to just politely drive Wonwoo away so you can slip out of the building without having to talk to him. But your coworker must’ve misinterpreted your persistent reluctance to meet him as genuine fear and…while you’re glad you have a friend who looks out for you like that, she’s going about all of this the wrong way!
Wonwoo doesn’t speak for a long time and your heart squeezes at the notion that he’s been called all those harsh words when all he wanted to do was talk to you. You didn’t even give him any reasons as to why you suddenly decided to cut him off. But instead of marching out there to face him and clear the air yourself…
You stay hidden in the break room like a fucking coward.
“I understand why you’d assume that, but I don’t have any ill intentions—”
“That's exactly what a guy with ill intentions would say,” Mina scoffs. “Do both of us a favor and just leave, yeah? And stop trying to contact her when she obviously wants nothing to do with you anymore.”
The silence hangs thick from outside and despite being in the break room, you swear you can almost choke on it yourself. 
You’re not sure what expression Wonwoo is wearing. Actually, you don’t even know him well enough to know those kinds of things. The most you’ve seen of his face was during that quiet night you spent together two weeks ago and you’ve severed contact with him all because of something that he probably could have explained if only you gave him the chance to.
“Okay,” he whispers so softly, you almost don’t catch it. “Thanks for your time.”
Fortunately, Mina doesn’t try to add any more fuel to the fire. All you hear is the sound of retreating footsteps and the sound of the front door clicking shut. 
It’s only when your coworker pokes her head inside the break room that you realize you’ve been holding your breath.
“He’s gone now,” she murmurs with a comforting smile. “And if he doesn’t stop bothering you even after that, I’ll raise the complaint to the director himself. I’m sure he can pull some legal strings to keep that guy out of the area for good.”
You find it kind of ironic that a few minutes ago, Mina was teasing you about him and now things have escalated into restraining order territory. But you can’t really blame her for it.
Especially when you’ve done nothing to clear up the misunderstanding.
“Right. Thanks, Mina.” You manage a thin smile, fingers absentmindedly drifting to the black cat enamel you still pinned to your uniform’s chest pocket.
“I really appreciate it.”
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Haewon 🪷 [10:30]: Unnie hiii
Haewon 🪷 [10:33]: Can you call me as soon as you read this? Xoxo
You get to check Haewon’s message three hours late because finally, finally you’ve managed to defend your thesis after innumerable sleepless nights and neverending changes to your manuscript draft. Your panelists and advisers had nothing but praises to sing about your work—even going as far as to promise that your paper will definitely be published in the next volume of the academic journal you’d been secretly hoping it’ll get selected for. 
It’s still surreal that the only thing you’ve got left on your university to-do list is to attend the commencement rites scheduled in three weeks’ time. Four grueling years have really just gone by in a flash. 
After enjoying one of your last lunch breaks in the quad with some old classmates who’ve also conquered the figurative beast that is their undergrad thesis, you excuse yourself for a while to give your little sister a ring. Haewon picks up on the second ring. 
“About time you called,” she huffs. “I thought you were sleeping in the day again.”
You shake your head with a laugh despite the fact that she can’t see the gesture. “No more sleeping in the day for me ‘cause I’m graduating.”
Haewon gasps—loud enough to create static across the line. “Really? Oh my god. That’s good news then! Mom and dad were actually getting worried about you, you know? You’ve been throwing yourself into that stupid thesis of yours for a month now.” 
It takes a while for you to formulate a response, something akin to guilt creeping into your heart at the prospect of worrying your parents sick. But then again, what’s done is done. You can catch up on the several hours of sleep and countless brain cells you’ve lost trying to make your final manuscript actually make sense.
“It’s all good now,” you reassure. “All you guys have to do now is fly over to Seoul for my graduation and I can pack my bags and go back to the countryside as soon as I can.” 
You half-expect Haewon to laugh off your haste to travel back to your hometown and say something about how you’re better off in the city than this old dump. 
But you’re met with silence instead.
“Um,” she starts nervously after a few moments. “I know most of the stuff that’s been stressing you out is gone now, but… Are you sure you’re okay?”
The question makes you swallow thickly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Unnie, I’m your sister,” Haewon says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture her scowling at you. “We both know you’ve been acting really weird ever since the pre-recording. I couldn’t pester you about it ‘cause I had to go back home the next day. And I didn’t want to bother you while you were finishing up your thesis.
“So now that all those obstacles are out of the way, do you mind telling me what’s wrong?”
The sound of the other students milling around the quad rings in your ears as you process Haewon’s words. When you take a deep breath, the exhale is accompanied by defeated laughter.
You’re an idiot to think you could ever escape your little sister’s scrutiny.
“I know you’re going to give me shit if I say it’s nothing you should worry about—”
“You’re right,” she interjects. “I will give you shit.”
“—but it really is nothing you should worry about,” you continue anyway, toying with the hem of your sweater with a wistful sigh. “Long story short, it’s…boy problems. Boy problems that I’ve ignored long enough that they just went away all on their own.”
At the other line, Haewon makes a strangled noise as if that’s not the answer she was expecting. “Come again?”
“Yeah, Hae. Your big sister actually has boy problems,” you chortle. “Weird, right?”
“Yes and you didn’t even bother telling me about it at all?!” She crows angrily. “You have to give me the gist or I’m hanging up and booking the next flight to Seoul.” 
For a moment, you hesitate and give yourself a moment to think about what you can and can’t tell Haewon over a phone call when she’s a whole plane ride away from you. 
She absolutely cannot know that the boy in question is Wonwoo. You’ll probably spend more time trying to convince her that what you’re saying is true than avoiding a pity party. So instead, you tell her:
“Well, this boy and I had…something good going for us, I think. I like him, you know—really, really like him. But then one day, I found out that he’s been keeping this important thing about himself from me.” A sigh. “Like, I know some stuff is none of my business, but it’s so easy for him to let others know about that…that thing, yet somehow he never bothered to tell me. I couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t trust me enough.”
Surprisingly, Haewon lets out a hum of understanding. “Yeah, that’s kind of a dick move on his part. Did you confront him about it?”
You find yourself tongue-tied for a moment—a bit embarrassed to admit to your little sister that you chose the coward’s way out of this. 
“Um, that’s the thing. I kind of ghosted him when I found out,” you tell her sheepishly. “I don’t think he knows the reason why I suddenly just dipped to this day. Haven’t spoken to him in…two months.” 
“Uh-huh. So all this time, you’ve been burying your guilt in schoolwork. Is that it?”
The straightforward tone catches you off guard for a second. “That’s not—”
“Unnie,” Haewon calls out firmly, making you close your mouth. “Again, I’m your sister. I know things about you that others don’t—things that you don’t either, probably. And trust me when I say this, but you are not the confrontational type. Don’t worry though because it’s perfectly fine to avoid the things you don’t want to deal with. Especially if you’re dealing with a person that’s more trouble than they’re worth.
“But…you said that you really, really like him. Present tense.” She pauses briefly, as if letting you digest what she’s saying a little better. “If the circumstances were even slightly different, I would’ve cheered you on for ghosting someone who hasn’t been one hundred percent honest with you because, duh? Deserved. But from the way you’ve been coping with what happened, I can’t help but think that avoiding him like this isn’t what you wanted to do at all.” 
Haewon’s words flow from the speaker and lance straight through your heart, and you start to wonder when she started sounding so reliable. You’re used to looking out for her even with the distance separating you. But ironically, it’s in your last year of college that your sister effortlessly dissected the dilemma that’s been plaguing you for weeks.
“Look, I think you’ll feel much better about all this if you just talk to him,” she continues when you don’t utter a word in response. “Not that I’m siding with some semi-lying jerk, but maybe he had his reasons for hiding…whatever he was hiding from you? If he gives you a bullshit excuse, then at least the ghosting will finally be justified, right?”
Her frankness makes you snort. “I guess.”
“Good. Now hang up and call him now.”
“...What?” 
“You heard me.”
“Haewon, I can’t just call him out of nowhere after ignoring him for so long.”
“Pfft. Of course you can! If he doesn’t answer, then that still justifies the ghosting because he obviously doesn’t want you enough. Men like that don’t deserve you, unnie.”
“...Fine. Point taken.”
You end the call after Haewon makes you swear to keep her posted about the situation and your love life in general from now on. Sighing, you reluctantly scroll through your messaging app—finding a conversation that’s long been buried by more recent texts from other people after he sent his final messages to you.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: It’s been three weeks since you last replied. Hope you’re doing okay. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:36]: Mina told me that you wanted nothing to do with me anymore but I really don’t understand why because…aren’t we good? Didn’t we have something back there? Or was I just reading you wrong the whole time?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:55]: Either way, she was right about one thing at least. I’ve probably made you uncomfortable with my texts. Kind of pathetic now that I think about it. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:01]: I’m sorry for constantly bothering you like this. It’s just that…I want to know what went wrong.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:05]: It’s getting harder for me to sleep at night knowing I fucked up something that could’ve been the start of something nice. I was already planning our first date, you know?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:10]: Fuck. Now it just sounds like I’m gaslighting haha.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:17]: Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I don’t even know anymore.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [04:25]: What I do know is that I miss you. So much.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:05]: Uh. Sorry about all of that. I had a few drinks and…you know how it goes.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:12]: I’ll stop texting you for real now. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:15]: I hope your studies go well. Thank you for being part of my life, no matter how short our time together was.
Fuck. 
This is going to be much more difficult than you thought.
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You don’t really blame yourself when it takes you a few days to decide whether or not you should call Wonwoo. The choice has been weighing on you like a cloud above your head and you had to decline several invites to go out from your friends because you simply cannot sit still, knowing that you have to do something about…whatever’s going on with the two of you.
Part of you insists on just leaving it as it is. Wonwoo is an idol that’s almost a decade into his career and you’re much too certain that he’s met enough people in his life to deem the loss of your company specifically a big deal. He has his members, his fans, and anything else a person could ever want.
So what if some college senior he doesn’t even know that well just ghosted him out of nowhere?
But even with that logic, you still end up holding your breath before pressing the call button one Tuesday afternoon. 
There are a total of five attempts made and all five lead you straight to voicemail—each instance making your heart grow heavier and heavier once the prerecorded message comes to an end. You secretly fear that he must’ve blocked your number altogether. Why wouldn’t he after you’ve wasted his time as much as you did?
Others would’ve considered this as a sign to just give up. The universe is basically telling you that the brief time you shared together would yield nothing more. Wonwoo has his own career to worry about and as do you, now that you’re finally going to be ejected from university and into the life of an unemployed fresh grad. You’re better off not chasing after the things you’ve purposely run away from in the first place.
So why on earth are you looking up the exact address of his company building, making the long commute for the slim chance of running into him against all odds?
The security around the area might look lax but you can spot the assortment of security guards stationed both inside and outside of the company building pretty easily. Given the nature of the business they’re running, it would make sense that they’d put up all possible countermeasures against people who might try to inconvenience their artists in any way.
Not wanting to be branded as a crazed fan, you decide to keep your distance—purposely lingering outside the shopping center just across the street as you brainstorm how exactly you’re going to meet up with Wonwoo. 
But as the minutes ticked past, your sense of reason is starting to overpower your desire to clear things up with him. For one, you don’t even know what his schedule looks like. How can you be so sure that he’ll even be there today? Worse, would Wonwoo even want to speak with you after everything? Despite having kept the fact that he’s an idol a secret to you all this time, he has all the right to refuse speaking with you when you never even gave him a chance to explain himself.
The noise of the busy district fades in the background as your eyes fall to Wonwoo’s final text message. You haven’t even thought of texting him since you considered reaching out. But with the fact that your earlier phone calls didn’t go through, you don’t think you can bear seeing your apologetic messages get denied in the very real chance that he’s blacklisted your number altogether.
God. You feel so pathetic.
“Hey, it’s you!”
You immediately blanche at the feeling of someone placing a hand on your shoulder—turning around to see who it is only to be met with the sight of two familiar faces.
“Oh,” you voice out somewhat dumbly. “Miss…Sohee? And Vern?”
The couple who adopted a cat from the shelter flashes you pretty smiles, the two of them carrying grocery bags in each arm. Sohee perks up when you recognize them. “Yup! I didn’t expect to see the nice shelter lady around these parts. What brings you here?”
“Just…stuff.” The laugh you spare them is a little too forced, but if they notice, they don’t comment on it. “How about you guys? How has Milana been?”
“Feels right at home in either of our apartments,” Vern chuckles. “You were right about her having high standards. We always end up doing our grocery shopping here instead of the supermarket near my place ‘cause Lana refuses to eat any of the cheap cat food being sold there.”
Sohee sighs in agreement. “Mhmm. You wouldn’t even think she was a rescue with how high maintenance she is, but we’re idiots that dote on her all the time. It’s just a good thing we work right across the street from here.”
Feeling endeared with how much they spoil their new child aside, the latter part of Sohee’s statement catches your attention for a moment. “Sorry? You work right across the street?”
The moment the words leave your lips, the charming smiles on their faces falter before the couple before you share a look. A brief moment of telepathic communication must’ve occurred between the both of them, as if wordlessly discussing whether they should respond, but in the end Sohee relents.
“Yeah. Vern and I work at HYBE,” she chuckles. “I’m actually surprised you don’t recognize him, since he’s—”
“A very loyal employee that the nice shelter lady can’t possibly recognize,” Vern interjects with a cough into his fist and the immediate reaction makes it easier to put two and two together.
He’s an idol. One hundred percent an idol.
Deciding to play along, you offer up a nod in understanding. “I see. Guess you guys are heading back for the day?”
“Yep. We had one of the other members—uh, I mean, one of our friends look after Milana while we had our grocery run,” Vern explains not-so-smoothly.
“As much as we’d like to stay and chat for a while longer, our baby kind of needs us,” Sohee tells you with an apologetic look. “I hope things at the shelter are running smoothly! We’ve seen how dedicated you guys are to taking care of those poor animals.”
You nod. “Of course. I’ll see you guys around?”
“Anytime!”
You and the beautiful couple exchange quaint bows in farewell before the two of them start walking away. But with each footstep that they take further and further away from you, the itch to run after them and ask what you’ve been dying to when they said they both worked at HYBE grows all the more unbearable.
Cut it out, you mentally hiss at yourself. You can’t bother other people about your issues with Wonwoo. That’s just a whole new low. 
You should’ve just gone the opposite direction when the conversation ended. You should’ve just directed yourself to the nearest bus stop back to your apartment—buried all of this in the past where it belongs.
But it’s as if your body has a mind of its own. The next thing you know, you’re sprinting towards Sohee and Vern before they could cross the next intersection—surprising the couple with your sudden re-entry.
“Did you need something?” Sohee asks, accommodating and confused all at once.
Now or never.
“Yes, actually,” you dole out breathlessly, pursing your lips before adding:
“Do you guys know where Wonwoo is?”
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Out of all the ways you thought this day could turn out, you never would’ve imagined being in the backseat of one of HYBE’s music producers—breezing through the city’s freeway as she interrogates you about just how exactly you know Jeon Wonwoo.
“So you’re the reason he’s being so off lately,” Sohee chuckles before switching lanes. “Wonwoo’s always been the quiet type, but sometimes you can just tell when there’s a lot on his mind. Isn’t that right, Vernon?”
Vernon, who you come to realize is part of the same group as Wonwoo, glances at you from the rearview mirror with a shake of his head. “I can vouch. Wonwoo-hyung’s been working on sharing stuff with us, but of course there’s still some things he’d like to keep to himself.”
I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.
Great. Now you feel twice as horrible.
“Honestly, I was kind of scared that you guys would think I’m a sasaeng,” you admit with a dry laugh before settling further into the car’s plush upholstery. 
“While we have no reason not to think that with all the weirdos popping up these days,” Sohee starts before her lips curve into a smile, “it just so happens that Soonyoung also can’t keep his mouth shut about Wonwoo’s little crush.”
That makes your face heat up a little. “Soonyoung like…Wonwoo’s friend?”
“You might know him better as Hoshi,” Vernon explains. 
Hoshi, Hoshi, Hoshi…
You snap your fingers once you figure it out. “Yeah. He’s my sister’s bias wrecker.”
“Now we learn that your sister is a fan, too? Huh. Small world.”
“Anyway,” Sohee interjects. “The reason why we believed your explanation was because Soonyoung described Wonwoo’s crush as an animal lover. He’s not so much of a blabbermouth that he gave us more details aside from that, but Vernon here told me about how Wonwoo always comes late to their unit meetings because he keeps making all these detours first.”
Vernon stifles a laugh. “I actually found out about the shelter because Coups-hyung insisted that we follow him around to figure out where he’s been going. It didn’t occur to me at the time that his animal lover crush and the nice shelter lady could be the same person.”
At this point, you can honestly get used to being called a nice shelter lady. But that aside, you can’t help but flush even further at all the things being revealed to you right now. 
It’s…a lot to unpack. 
First, Wonwoo has a crush on you? A complete nobody? Then again, from how often he’s been seeking you out before things went to shit, you could infer that he’s at least a little bit interested from how he kept going out of his way to see you. He’s even late to meetings because of his little visits. This so-called crush was quite obvious, you just don’t like how flustered hearing it out loud makes you feel.
“But then Wonwoo-hyung just started showing up on time to our meetings during our comeback promotions,” Vernon continues. “We were glad we didn’t have to keep waiting for him to start, but…we also noticed that he’s been kind of down lately. The first time it happened, I assumed it was just an off day for him, though now that we met you like this, that’s definitely not the case.”
Wonwoo’s been feeling down? Because of you?
If the roles were reversed, you can say that you’d feel the same if he just stopped talking to you when you thought you were already growing closer. It doesn’t help that the last time you were together, you shared far too many kisses that mere friends should indulge each other with. 
You sigh, leaning your head against the headrest.
You’re such an idiot. A selfish, inconsiderate—
“Well, here we are.”
When the car pulls over, you don’t even realize that Sohee already left the freeway and drove into one of the roads overlooking the Han River. You can barely keep yourself from choking on your own breath when you spot a very familiar motorcycle parked in front of the vehicle. It doesn’t help that Sohee pulled over a certain spot underneath the elevated highway that you’re very much certain you’ve already been to once before.
“Hyung doesn’t know that we know about this place. He never brings anyone else here,” Vernon informs you with a small smile. “From the look on your face, we can assume that he’s already brought you here though, right?”
You can’t even deny it at this point. “Yeah…”
Sohee moves to unlock the doors before glancing behind the driver’s seat with an encouraging look. “Well, how about you clear things upso we can start going on double dates and stuff.”
“Sohee,” her boyfriend groans.
“What? I think it’d be a great idea.” She pouts. “We can even rope Nari and Mingyu into tagging along. Then it’ll be a triple date.”
“What she means to say is,” Vernon cuts in before Sohee can get another word out. “No pressure. You go sort out the stuff you need to with Wonwoo-hyung. I’m sure the two of you can make the best decision for each other once you get to talk properly.”
The best decision, huh…
Your new friends watch you with wordless encouragement as you open the door to your left, letting out a long-winded breath so you wouldn’t be too psyched out by the circumstances. You thank them both with a subtle nod as you gather enough courage to see the person you’ve been longing to meet again for a while now.
Now or never, you repeat to yourself before finally stepping out of the car.
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Wonwoo’s thinking spot looks much different in the day than it does at night.
You had a pretty hard time navigating the short terrain from the road to the old, weathered steps of the watchtower because of the lack of proper illumination. If it weren’t for Wonwoo guiding you the entire time, you would’ve face planted into the pebbled pathway on the first few steps. 
The sun is already setting when you make it to your destination—red orange rays splintering through the high rise buildings on the other side of the river bank. It’s not difficult to spot Wonwoo’s tall figure leaning across the rusty railing of the watchtower, a gentle smile gracing his handsome face as he plays with the growing kitten in his arms. 
He doesn’t notice you at the foot of the concrete steps right away, too engrossed with playing with Hani to take in the rest of his surroundings. But the longer you watch them from afar, the more your chest twists with guilt.
All this time, you never really thought about how Wonwoo must’ve been faring since you ghosted him. You merely assumed that he’d still be living his best life despite what happened between the two of you. The thought that he’ll still be better off without you in his life spurred you on to solely focus on the things you’ve got going on your end. You didn’t consider just how your actions would affect him. Not even once. 
But now, despite having such an adorable cat to keep him company, it isn’t hard to tell that he’s not in the most stellar of moods.
It’s not like you’ve seen Wonwoo smile a lot when you still knew him as Woo—no thanks to his silly little face masks. But you always liked how his eyes crinkled behind his glasses whenever you said something he finds funny or amusing. The easygoing body language he always seemed to have around you.
There’s none of that now.
“Wonwoo.”
He visibly stiffens at the sound of someone calling his name. Cautiously, Wonwoo tucks Hani closer to his chest—glancing around for anyone who could have infiltrated his safe haven.
When his eyes land on you, you can almost hear his breath hitch from where you’re standing.
Seeing no indication that he doesn’t want you here, you swallow the lump in your throat before climbing up the stairs. Each step you take is familiar yet foreign at the same time and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears the closer you get to him. The startled expression on Wonwoo’s face doesn’t falter even when you’re mere feet in front of him on top of the watchtower—like he’s having a hard time grasping your existence.
Hani, however, doesn’t seem all that fazed. The black kitten mewls in delight at the sight of you, squirming around in Wonwoo’s arms, which seems to snap her owner out of his stupor.
His throat bobs. “You know my name.”
You laugh softly. “It isn’t hard to figure it out when you’re as famous as you are.”
Silence permeates the air by the riverside as Wonwoo processes the words you just told him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, hands absentmindedly running across Hani’s fur.
“So that’s why,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “I should’ve known…”
You mirror the gesture somewhat vigorously, your throat closing up from all the things you want to say. He doesn’t deserve to be left hanging all because of that stupid reason alone. He doesn’t deserve those hurtful words from Mina.
Most of all, he doesn’t deserve to feel this shitty all because you were too much of a coward to communicate with him.
“I’m sorry.” 
He startles at your apology—obviously not expecting that to be the first thing you say to him after two months of radio silence. “W-Why are you sorry? I should be—”
“It was unfair of me to just ghost you like that when you haven’t explained yourself,” you murmur, tucking your hands behind your back as you stare down at your shoes in shame. “I’m sure you had your reasons for not telling me right away, but… I selfishly thought you didn’t trust me enough to let me know.”
“No,” he quickly clarifies. “It’s not like that at all. I trust you—so much.”
“I know,” you sigh. “It took me a while, but I realized that along the way. The last time we were here, you entrusted me with the story of how you coped with losing someone. You entrusted me with your thoughts, your feelings, your secrets. And I took all that for granted because you didn’t tell me you were an idol.”
Wonwoo falls silent for only a moment as if considering what words to say next. Hani seems to sense his distress, cuddling up to his chest in an attempt to soothe him. He notices what she’s doing right away and Wonwoo scratches behind her ears with a breathless chuckle.
“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t plan on hiding it forever. I knew you would find out eventually—just not as soon as you did,” he murmurs. “It was also unfair of me to take advantage of the fact that you didn’t know me as Wonwoo. But…I wanted to keep my career out of the equation first because it’s nice being treated like a normal person. You never put me on a pedestal or looked at me like I was some sort of god.
“You treated me like I was human.”
This time, you’re the one who’s at a loss for words. 
Having Haewon as a sister, you have this preconceived notion about idols where they have the world in the palm of their hands. You thought for the longest time that all they had to do was go up the stage to sing and dance and look beautiful and the rest will follow. 
Hearing Wonwoo tell you this easily subverted all those assumptions. 
You’ve never been good at telling people the things they need to hear. That’s Haewon’s area of expertise, not yours. So instead of offering up any words of comfort, you quickly close the distance that’s been keeping you apart to throw your arms around his broad shoulders.
Wonwoo freezes up when you pull him into a hug and he loathes the fact that he can’t even reciprocate it given that he has his hands full. It’s kind of adorable how careful you’re being to make sure you don’t accidentally squish Hani between your bodies. 
Suddenly, all that heaviness that’s been lingering in his heart for weeks dissipates in a flash. Wonwoo relishes in the feeling of your warmth seeping into his, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds back his emotions.
“Can we start over again?” you murmur. “We still haven’t had our first date, right?”
When you feel the sound of his laughter rumbling in his chest, you can’t help the goosebumps that rise across your skin. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to forgive me that fast.”
Pulling away for a moment, you shoot him a dirty look. “Jeon Wonwoo, are you saying I’m easy?”
“Not at all.” Wonwoo grins and you can barely look at him without recoiling at how good he looks. 
His hair has grown much longer than you remember and seeing the smile that oh-so easily hooked you in deeper than you already were, you already know that you can’t ever hope to put up a fight. 
Not when he’s so love-of-your-life-shaped.
“Since we’re at the point of catching up, I’m actually graduating in three weeks.”
Wonwoo sharply turns to look at you with a scowl as he puts Hani in a little cat backpack he got for her. “Three weeks? Shit… I think we’re going to have a concert at that time.”
You wave away his concern with a smile. “I didn’t mean I was expecting you to show up at the venue, doofus. Can’t have any weird rumors about you going around by attending my graduation.”
“Rumors about what?” he challenges.
“You know.”
“I actually don’t.”
“We just made up ten minutes ago, Do you really want me to bail on you again?”
“Hey, I just thought that if you ever want to spark some dating rumors, we can make it happen any time.” 
“We’re not even dating!”
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“It’s just like you said—I still owe you that first date, don’t I?”
“...Have I told you that you’re insufferable?”
“I’m actually surprised you didn’t start calling me that when I kept visiting the shelter too often to be considered normal.”
“That reminds me, why were you visiting the shelter so much?”
When Wonwoo hands you Hani’s cat backpack, you take it as an invitation to hitch a ride on his motorcycle. After all, it would be uncomfortable to have it sitting between the two of you. However, he takes you completely by surprise by answering you with:
“I like you. That’s why.”
It takes you about five whole seconds to recover from what he just said but it’s five seconds too late because Wonwoo is already chuckling to himself as if he deserves to have the last laugh.
“You’re lucky that I like you too,” you mumble as you carefully hop on his ride—sitting comfortably behind him while making sure Hani is strapped securely behind you. “If I didn’t, Mina would’ve made our boss file a restraining order against you.”
Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet before putting on his own, laughing again as he clicks the lock in place. “Dating rumors and stalking rumors? Being with you sounds like such a big hassle now.”
“Are we going on that first date or not?!”
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Two months after graduating and four weeks into officially dating Jeon Wonwoo, you find out the real reason he was taking so damn long to make up his mind about adopting Hani.
The landlord doesn’t prohibit pets—he loves them, actually. 
His dog, Seol, is a little shy, but she gets along with Hani just fine.
But then his old roommate, Mingyu, dropped by to visit Wonwoo’s apartment one day, sneezing all over the place like it’s pollen season. Except the pollen in question is cat fur and it just so happens that he didn’t bring any of his allergy meds for the trip.
“As much as I want to cuddle on the couch catching up on the Marvel Cinematic Universe with you guys, I gotta go,” Mingyu explains while blowing his nose into a tissue. “I’ll die if I spend even a second longer here.”
Wonwoo throws a piece of popcorn at him. “Didn’t you say that you’re going on a date with Nari?”
“Oh. That, too.”
“If she finds out that you just remembered as an afterthought, she’s going to kill you,” you tease while shoving a handful of your movie snacks into your mouth. “At least, that’s what I’d do if Wonwoo did the same thing.”
“Oh, she will. That’s why neither of you are going to tattle on me,” the beefy idol huffs before tossing the soiled tissue in the trash bin. “Anyway, Wonwoo-hyung, you should totally keep in touch with this pet sitter that Seungcheol-hyung discovered recently. A bunch of other artists leave their pets with her whenever they have tight schedules.”
Your boyfriend merely looks at him with an unimpressed look. “Are you saying that just so I can leave Hani there when you come over to play video games with me?”
“Yes.”
Mingyu leaves shortly after receiving a phone call from his girlfriend, Nari, who sounded nothing short of furious when she asked where on earth he is and why he’s late for their date again. Wonwoo tells you that his best friend has a thing for pissing off Nari just so he has an excuse to do grand gestures for her without his girlfriend complaining about it. You tell him that he should start doing the same too.
“By the way, you’re flying back to Jeju for a while, right?” Wonwoo asks once the credits start rolling in the film playing on his TV—the loose grip he has around your waist tightening ever-so slightly.
You shift your weight on the couch to cuddle closer to him. “Yeah. I haven’t seen my parents and Haewon since I graduated. Plus, I don’t have to start working until next month, so I can afford a last-minute getaway.”
He nods. “I still think it’s funny you haven’t told your sister about me. Are you ashamed of me or something?”
“Quit saying weird stuff, Jeon Wonwoo,” you huff before hitting him in the chest. Damn those firm pecs. “I just want to see the look on her face when she finds out I’m dating the person she ships with Mingyu for fun.”
“And I still can’t believe my future sister-in-law is a Gyuldaengie.”
You try not to think about how he said Haewon is his future in-law. You really do.
Once the last of the end credits pans on-screen, the bonus scene at the end of every Marvel movie starts playing and you can’t help but snort when Eddy gets snapped back to his own universe before he can even pay off his tab to the bartender. Just when you’re about to ask Wonwoo if he wants to watch the next movie, you realize he’s had his eyes on you the entire time.
“What?” you laugh.
“Nothing,” he whispers. “I just thought you were really pretty.”
“Wonwoo, you tell me that every thirty minutes. Don’t you get tired of it?”
You yelp when he abruptly pulls you onto his lap, steadying you by the hips so you wouldn’t accidentally topple to the floor. He flashes you a lazy grin as he traces circles along the curve of your thighs and you can barely suppress a groan when you look down at him.
He might look like some otherworldly creature every time he kills it on stage, but you love this Wonwoo just the same—dressed down with his glasses sitting all crooked on the bridge of his nose, hair falling across his eyes. 
“Never,” he says simply. 
There’s something oddly sensual about the way he says it and at that moment, you catch on to the half-lidded look in his eyes. You gulp, gaze instinctively wandering around his apartment to look for Hani and Seol, who you spot dozing next to each other in the kitchen. 
Now that you’re sure none of the kids are watching, you let out a defeated sigh before lacing your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him.
Wonwoo is a guy you caved and kissed before the first date, so it’s pretty natural for the two of you to fall into this degree of intimacy every now and again. His effect on you is especially lethal whenever you spend several days apart because of the nature of his career. 
But even if you’re yet to cross that line with your boyfriend, the possibility of it finally coming into fruition becomes more and more real every time his hot tongue slides against yours. 
“Won…woo—” you gasp when you feel his cold fingers sneak up your shirt, hands firmly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. 
Your boyfriend chuckles and the low vibrations that come from his chest shoot straight to your core. “I know tonight was supposed to be movie night, but you’re making it really hard to keep my hands off of you.” 
“That’s what you say all the time,” you groan as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. Fuck. “Always blaming me for your lack of self-control.”
“I can’t help it when you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips before tugging you back down for another heated kiss.
You’ve fooled around with Wonwoo a handful of times and during said times, you’ve gotten an idea of how…into it he gets when pleasuring you. It’s almost as if he delights in seeing you come undone for him even if it’s just with his mouth and fingers. 
It’s during those moments that you can’t help but imagine how he would be once the two of you finally take things all the way. But for all your teasing about how he has questionable self-control, Wonwoo has done nothing but respect the boundaries you’ve clearly set when you started dating. 
“Fuck,” he rasps when he pulls away briefly, resting his head against the cushions of the sofa as he closes his eyes. “Baby, we’ve gotta stop or else I might just cave and fuck you.”
You simper. “You’re the one who started this.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I’m putting a stop to it before I end up doing something you don’t like!”
You shift around on his lap for a moment and Wonwoo is convinced that you’ll give him some reprieve and get off of him before he loses his mind. But then he realizes you’re grinding your hips against the hard-on he’s sporting in his sweats. 
Chuckling to yourself, you pull him by the front of his shirt—pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth before leaning into his ear to whisper:
“What if I want you to fuck me, Woo?”
The deep growl that resonates in his throat sounds so fucking hot, you can feel a gush of slick surge between your thighs. He doesn’t say a word—merely opting to keep his hard stare on yours as he wraps your legs around his waist. You immediately get the gist and hold on tight to him as he carries you out of the living room and into his bedroom.
“I’m giving you a chance to back out again, sweetheart,” he sighs as he kicks the door shut behind him. “Think you can handle it when I get serious about fucking you until you can’t walk?”
The mental image he conjures in your head has you mewling in his arms, prompting you to pepper his neck with sloppy kisses as he gropes your ass like it’s always belonged to him. 
“Think you can actually make good on that though?” you challenge with a soft chuckle, grazing your teeth just below his collarbone. You won’t bite—knowing that his stylists will give him hell for it if he shows up to work with hickeys. “We both know you like to talk big sometimes.”
Wonwoo breathes out a condescending chuckle before gently easing you on top of the mattress. You didn’t think it was possible, but you swear you get even wetter when he takes off his glasses and licks his lips at the sight of you.
“Oh, baby, you’re in for a fucking ride.”
That’s how you find yourself with your back pressed against Wonwoo’s insanely sculpted chest—both your mouth and pussy stuffed with his thick fingers as he works you open enough to take his cock. He slides those thick digits in and out of your wet channel, making sure you get used to the stretch all while he muffles your noises at the same time. 
Normally, he likes hearing you get whiney and desperate for him, but there’s a charm to seeing you slobber all over his fingers as you clench up around the ones buried in your pussy. 
“Fuck, baby. So goddamn tight for me,” he whispers huskily in your ear and the sound of his rough voice layered with the lewd squelch of your cunt makes your insides tingle. “Been thinking about having this pretty pussy all to myself for a while now. You gonna let me have it now, baby? Let me wreck you on my cock?”
Wonwoo easily has the hottest voice you’ve ever heard in your entire life. While you often think about how you can fall asleep happily just listening to him talk about anything under the sun, it’s an entirely different story when he’s spouting all this filth into your ear as he prepares you for an overdue dicking down. 
“Yes, please—” You sob pathetically when he takes his fingers out of your mouth, curling your arm behind you so you can blindly grab his hair and mend your lips into a messy kiss. “Wonwoo, I need you so bad.”
“Desperate little thing,” your boyfriend chuckles before withdrawing his fingers from your needy hole. The loss has you writhing in his lap, one hand shooting out to keep him where you want him but Wonwoo coos into your ear as if to pacify you. “Shhh, baby, I need you to come first before I fuck you. You’ll be good for me and let me make you come, right?” 
Shit. Who are you to refuse when he propositions you like that?
“I need an answer, sweetheart.”
“I’ll be good,” you gasp almost immediately as your boyfriend starts parting your pussy lips with the hand that was muffling your cute noises. “I’ll be so good for you, please just—”
“Just what, baby?” Wonwoo teases and you nearly cry.
“M-Make me come on your fingers…”
He hums, slick fingers gliding along your slit. “Not if you don’t say—”
“Please,” you whimper before grinding your pussy against his hand. “Wonwoo, I wanna come. Wanna come so bad. Want you to stuff me full of your cock. Want you to—” 
It’s almost like he tapped in on every single nerve ending in your body when his dexterous fingers find your clit—rubbing the puffy bud in fast, tight circles as you start twitching in his arms. Wonwoo lets out another evil laugh as he forcibly pries your legs apart. The firmness of his grip leaves you no choice but to thrash around as he builds your orgasm from the ground up, trailing wet kisses along the column of your throat as he teases an orgasm out of you with the sound of his voice coupled with his sinful ministrations.
“So wet and ready for me. Have you thought about taking me inside this sweet little pussy? Do you think you can even fit me when you’re this tight?” he breathes into your ear and you don’t even have the dignity to bite down your moans anymore. “You’re so close, sweetheart. Let yourself go and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll blow your pretty back out over and over until you’re sick of me.”
Never, you want to tell him. I’ll never get sick of you, stupid Wonwoo.
Funnily enough, that silent jab at him is quickly followed by a mind-numbing release. It washes over you like a storm surging into a calm shore—overloading every cell in your body with pleasure until the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a broken rendition of your lover’s name. 
Wonwoo talks you through your high because he knows you’ve got a thing for his voice. Knows just how much tighter you get when he whispers filthy words with a sultry sweet tone. 
And when he growls, “Good fucking girl,” into your ear, you’re convinced he just made you come again while still riding the waves of your first orgasm. 
For all his vigor, Wonwoo is surprisingly patient with you as you recover from what he just put you through. He plants brief kisses all over your neck and face until your breathing finally evens out and you stop seeing stars in the seams of your vision. Your boyfriend offers up a gentle smile when you finally come to—leaning in to kiss your nose.
“You still want more?” he whispers, exercising enough restraint to be revered despite the fact that you can feel his hard, leaking cock pressed against the small of your back. 
A soft, somewhat weak laugh makes its way past your lips as you turn around to peck his lips. Wonwoo smiles against your mouth and you can’t help but do the same.
Then, you issue another challenge.
“Do your worst.”
You’re grateful now more than ever that Wonwoo is the easiest person to talk to in the entire world. You can practically count the things that he wouldn’t want to discuss with you on one hand alone. 
In other words, you’ve already had the necessary conversations about sex, should you ever have it with him in the future (A.K.A., right now). Wonwoo knows you’ve been on birth control ever since you moved to Seoul all those years ago. He knows that you get yourself tested at least once every month if you can and assures you that he does the same.
On the other hand, you’re well aware that your boyfriend has a thing for coming inside, and now that you’ve gone this far with him, you’ll gladly let Wonwoo make his fantasies a reality. 
He only agreed to it once you promised to tell him whenever you feel like he’s going too far or if he’s doing something you don’t like. You swear you would’ve married him on the spot, if it weren’t for that tiny voice in your head that suspiciously sounds like Haewon telling you off for losing it over a man who’s doing the bare minimum.
With those measures in place, you feel safe enough to let Wonwoo press your face down onto the mattress as his free hand grips your ass—fucking into your tight cunt as he tries (and fails) to keep himself from being too rough with you. 
He really, really wanted to be gentle, considering it’s your first time to lie together like this. But your unfiltered reactions do nothing but test both his patience and self-control in more ways than one. All his plans on making love to you in good old missionary have been tossed out of the window now that you’ve given him the green light to actually fuck you until you can’t walk.
“Wonwoo,” you moan, fists curling into the sheets as he cants his hips deeper and deeper—the head of his cock hitting spots your own fingers could never hope to reach. “S-So fucking good…”
“Yeah?” he breathes raspily before leaning down to press his chest against your back, wanting to engulf you in the heat of his body until it’s all you’ll ever know. “My pretty baby loves my cock that much? You want me to fuck you all the time now?”
“Uh huh.” You nod before letting out a high pitched keen when he amps up the speed of his thrusts—slamming his hips harder against your ass.
Wonwoo thinks he could really get used to the sight of your pretty pussy sucking him in like this. You’re so greedy—clamping down on him as tightly as you do as you moan his name like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. But how could you not when each vein that runs along the underside of his perfect cock drags so deliciously across your velvet walls? When his balls—hot and heavy and full of enough cum to fill you to the brim—keep clapping against your pussy with each powerful thrust?
It’s the first time that you got to get a taste of what your boyfriend is capable of in bed and you can only imagine every instance that will follow once all’s said and done.
When he feels your walls start to spasm around his length every now and again, Wonwoo presses a sloppy kiss across the cut of your jaw—a hand sliding between your thighs so he can find that little bundle of nerves that made you fall apart only several minutes ago. Your reaction is immediate—crying and squirming below him even when you’re helpless against his massive frame pressing you down into the bed. 
“I’m so close, baby,” he groans into your ear, holding out for as long as he can just so he can feel the sensation of you coming around his cock. “You’re almost there, too, aren’t you? My good girl—taking my dick like it’s always been yours. Can you come with me? You can do that for me, right, sweetheart?”
The fondness in his voice strings you even further apart and you’re nothing but a mess of pleasure and delirium as Wonwoo continues his assault on your poor, abused clit. He knows just the right amount of pressure to use and manages to time his thrusts with each delicious pass on that oversensitive bud.  
It’s all over before you know it. 
You let out a long-winded moan that will definitely earn him a couple of noise complaints from the neighbors but Wonwoo doesn’t have it in him to fucking care at the moment. Not when your walls are clamping down so tightly around his cock—making each stroke all the more tantalizing as your pussy milks him for everything he’s got to give you. 
You mindlessly babble a string of I love yous against the sheets, a trail of drool dripping onto the mattress as Wonwoo fucks into you with heightened ferocity. He catches every single word you say and he tilts your head to the side so he can kiss you. Your boyfriend forces your tongue into a dance with his own until his hips stutter and stop—white hot emission surging into your cunt in thick spurts that he hopes would stay inside you for days if he can help himself.
You’re a mess—face painted with a fucked out expression as your pussy leaks with a mixture of yours and Wonwoo’s cum. The mere sight of it is almost enough to make him hard again, but he tells himself that he can take you up on marathon sex next time.
For now, he just wants to clean you up and tuck you back into bed.
“Woo?”
He turns to face you with a questioning look. Your boyfriend just finished with your mandatory aftercare session and is in the middle of making the bed comfortable enough for some post-sex cuddles. “Hmm?”
“You’re still free next week right?” you ask, drawing silly shapes on his chest with your finger once he finally lays down next to you.
“Yeah. I don’t have any major schedules until…” He pauses before conjuring up an imaginary calendar in his mind. “Next month. Why?”
Despite all the debauchery you’ve subjected each other to in a single night, your face still flushes as you consider what you’re about to ask him. Wonwoo smiles at that. Cute.
“How do you feel about flying to Jeju with me so I can introduce you to my family?” you ask shyly, gulping with a nervous laugh. “I totally get it if your management won’t allow it though. It’s hard to keep the media off your back when you’re so famous and—”
He doesn’t do this often, but Wonwoo shuts you up with a firm kiss.
“What are you talking about?” he murmurs, caressing your face tenderly. “Of course I want to meet them.”
When your eyes light up at his confirmation, Wonwoo swears that he couldn’t be more in love.
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Me [11:23]: hae, i’ve got good news~
Haewon 🪷 [11:24]: You’re bringing Mingyu with you to Jeju so we can get married?
Me [11:26]: very funny
Me [11:26]: not to spoil your delusions or anything but i’m bringing my boyfriend
Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Omg… 
Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Rudeness aside, is it the same guy from before? 
Me [11:31]: yep
 Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: AAAAAAAAA
 Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: I can’t wait to meet him!
 Haewon 🪷 [11:34]: He better be treating you right or I’ll drop kick him off Jusangjeollidae
Me [11:40]: you’ve already met him though~
Haewon 🪷 [11:41]: ?
Haewon 🪷 [11:45]: Unnie, what do you mean…
Haewon 🪷 [12:32]: Hey!!!!
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⟢ end notes: if you've made it til the end, congrats! this is the last of the doting on you! series (for now~) and i really hope you enjoyed reading through it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! special thanks to all the friends that read through this for me T T i wouldn't have done it without any of you ueueue and to everyone that has been patiently waiting for me to put up the last installment for the series, thank you for waiting <3 i hope you guys continue to support me with my future work as well!
this is part of the doting on you! series.
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dyketubbo · 1 year
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the feminine urge to make new blogs compulsively
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carlyraejepsans · 1 month
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I don't get people who narrow Chara down to Good OR Bad when its such a shallow reading of the story? They do some objectively bad things (taking their body to bait the humans, taking their own life, destroying the world) but when you zoom out it all stems from a traumatised child with little grasp on consequences until they've already awoke from their own tomb (Flowey matches this pattern aswell yet nobody makes groups calling him Good OR Bad??. A child that was hurt by the world, doubling down on the idea of consequences and becoming more detached via LV until them and You are so linked that they give themself a purpose from your own actions. And even in Pacifist, you could argue that they are showing you their memories of Asriel, providing the needed context to save their brother (and with it, all of monsterkind).
Kind of rambling but I just feel like simplifying a character down to being a Good person or a Bad person with no in-between is both stupid and against the point of the game (see Asgore, Alphys, Flowey, maybe even Toriel or Undyne).
agree with what you said, except people 100% do this same stupid discourse with flowey (as well as most of the female characters, like toriel and alphys). you can say everything, but at least you can't say they're not consistent.
interesting point, seeing them carrying their own body as bait! i hadn't considered that perspective before. i mostly interpreted their death wish as a way to hide the plan from asgore and toriel and give asriel an excuse to cross the barrier without raising suspicion. but it could very well be both.
another reading i like is that they sold the plan to asriel by using the same reasoning toriel uses to call asgore's bullshit in true pacifist, ie "we go out, we get 6 souls peacefully, we become strong and free everyone", because 1) that's yet another similarity they have with toriel, 2) i'm not 100% asriel would've been Down To Murder at that point in his life, as attached to chara as he was. i always assumed that they KNEW the humans would attack in any case, giving them a reason to also react with violence, but i never considered the why. just chalked it up to hate sentiments towards monsters and chara being convinced that humanity was irredeemable. thank you for the new idea!!
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arowitharrows · 20 days
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I find it quite strange how often people let a label decide for them how much love or importance they can give to something or someone. It demonstrates how often we see things as inherently hierarchical and how attaching labels to these hierarchies stops us from focusing on the thing behind the label, preventing us from exploring our own true feelings and, in the worst case, causing an endless cycle of discourse about labels. In this essay I will talk about how Pluto is still a fascinating and beautiful celestial object, and how people who argue that it should be a planet again are demonstrating their belief that the reclassification automatically implies that Pluto must be loved less, when in fact Pluto itself has not changed and you are free to love Pluto as a dwarf planet just as much as you would love Pluto as a planet planet.
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syzygyzip · 3 months
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The Soul Still Burns: Analysis of the Lords of Cinder (DS3)
What follows is a short essay on the Lords of Cinder from Dark Souls 3, exploring their symbolism on spiritual and metatextual levels. After that is a related reading of Slave Knight Gael, the final adversary of the Dark Souls trilogy.
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The Lords of Cinder are in many ways the primary adversaries of Dark Souls 3. This title they share, “Lord of Cinder,” refers to a personage who has rekindled the first flame, keeping the cycle of light and dark going.
Cinder is a substance which continues to burn without the presence of fire but does not reduce to ash. So euphemistically, it seems that the Lords are somehow stuck in their process of purification, and the game suggests that the world is stuck along with them; this is why it is the Ashen One’s task to “set them upon their thrones”—to hurry them along and thus allow the world to follow its natural decline. As individual characters, each of these Lords represents a different attitude that complicates and prolongs the cycle.
Through these stubborn Lords the game is commenting on at least two things. On the metaphysical level, it reflects the Buddhist idea that certain attitudes keep people reincarnating over and over again, unable to extricate themselves from the material world of suffering (samsara). While on the metatextual level, the game is suggesting that certain attitudes keep players coming back to Dark Souls again and again, starting new games, making new builds and revisiting old files.
The idea there on the metaphysical side finds an easy analogy in Buddhist doctrine: the “three poisons,” the three root causes of suffering. These are hatred, greed, and delusion. What’s interesting is that these essential vices also fit pretty easily onto the different types of players that are being caricatured by the Lords. We’ll break these correspondences down in a second.
But First: Why Do They Correspond? So we have these sets of three. Three lords, three poisons in Buddhism, three types of Souls players. How convenient. When we analyze art, we sometimes ask, “Huh, is this structure really there, or am I projecting it into the material?” And if the structure is really there, baked into the work, that doesn’t mean that it’s due to developer intention. Archetypal forms sometimes show up in work via an unconscious influence, be it due to the cultural milieu, personal psychology, or some a priori biological disposition of the human being.
And the thing about Dark Souls is that it’s an unusually honest piece of art, in that its creative team allows their own free associations and intuitions to show up in the work without too much self-censorship or questioning. They make space for a mystery to show up on its own terms, and in leaving its riddles unanswered, there is more space for discovery by the people who play it.
It should also be said that cultural ideas persist for a reason. Beneath the ethics and ideology of the people who originally named the Buddhist “three poisons,” there may be something timeless, something perennially descriptive of human nature. If that is the case, then it would make sense for this same triplicity to unfurl itself in other cultural products. So for one reason or another, these three poisons, these addictions, show up diegetically in the characters and are also expressed in player psychology.
I say all this just because sometimes I feel very aware of the disconnect between much of Souls lore discourse and the broader field of mythological study. Since we are gamers first, there may be this tendency to want to “solve” the lore, but that’s not what we’re doing here. Myth functions because it elaborates our experience of the world through affective resonance; it attaches images and characters and stories which help us anchor our own prelinguistic impressions of the world, cultivating our sensitivity there.
Anyway, let’s look at these Lords.
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Abyss Watchers Poison: Hatred The lore of the Abyss Watchers is pretty clear: they have an obsessive fixation on the abyss, and are ready to raze an entire town if they suspect abyssal encroachment. This obsession has literally possessed them, as they are now “abyss touched.” Gaze too much into the abyss, etc. They carry such strong contempt for the disavowed object that they don’t care what comes between it and their sword. This is clearly demonstrated by the fact that they are a brotherhood yet are unhesitatingly slaughtering themselves again and again. Hatred has made them blind, and has also caused them to resign their individuality (they are identical, mere instruments of a transpersonal grudge). They cannot die, their hatred keeps them locked in combat.
Type of Player: competitive | Interest: combat The Abyss Watchers are a representation of PvP addicts. They have no powers other than tenacity; they perform the same combos repeatedly. When you are really gripped by a PvP binge in Souls, you often end up doing the same thing again and again. The fight takes place in a mausoleum, on top of many chambers filled with human remains. The fact that this boss fight is instructional about combat, specifically about looking for tells (a cloud of dust always signifies the end of their combos) might be another clue. There is no limit to how good you get at Souls PvP; every foe is an opportunity to improve timing and strategy. You can just keep stacking anonymous bodies under yourself.
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Aldrich Poison: Greed Aldrich invokes the concept of supremacy many times: he is in the supreme area from Dark Souls 1; in the supreme boss room of that area; he wears as a crown the former supreme lord of that area. This is because he devours lords; he tries to take prestige upon himself through acquisition and incorporation—greed.
Type of Player: completionist | Interest: content Aldrich is a commentary on completionist players. He is someone who “plays the game to death”, acquiring every object, reaching every achievement, devouring the soul of the game through taking everything into himself. He becomes bloated by consuming as much of the game’s content as possible. The old God whose likeness he has adopted is Gwyndolin, who was, in narrative terms, the one pulling the strings in the land of the Gods. And in gameplay terms, he is a secret boss. So on both counts we have someone who is elusive, and exists more or less at the boundary of the gameworld. When a player tries to see every last little morsel of a game, they become somewhat like Gwyndolin, a manipulator of a virtual world. If you know too much about a game, you have the risk of being less immmersed.
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Yhorm Posion: Delusion In Buddhism, the poison of delusion secretly underlies the other two poisons, as the impulse toward hatred and greed are ultimately born of some false view about reality. This is akin to how the profaned capital sits below the rest of the kingdoms. To beat Yhorm you essentially have to “play pretend” with him, picking up a fake super-weapon, or fighting alongside Siegward, a knight who appears to be somewhat deluded about the state of the world, enthralled in the same fantasy as Yhorm himself.
Type of Player: lore researcher | Interest: meaning The profaned capital is full of statues—fixed images of myth; and empty goblets—treasures with no utility. Not to mention the area with the swamp which is full of symbolic imagery, but serves no narrative or mechanical purpose. The entire profaned capital challenges us to make sense of it; it is the ultimate temptation of lorekeepers in DS3. It throws at us a disproportionate amount of reference to DS2, which is famous among Souls players as the least thematically sensible Souls game. The Greatshield of Glory is found right outside Yhorm’s room, in a conspicuous room full of treasure, and yet it is a very impractical shield and offers very little lore value. If a lore-minded player picks it up, it directs them to a legendary personage from the War of Giants, which raises far more questions than it answers. The same is true of much of this area—the Eleanora, the Monstrosities, the Profaned Flame itself—they are all there to get you to speculate. These are the players who come to Souls games again and again, trying to find the “ultimate meaning.” They seek the grail, claim to find it, and then chuck in a pile with the others.
Yhorm's story also imitates the primordial Artorias myth: forsaking his shield in preservation of something more valuable. Other than that Yhorm is largely a cipher when it comes to biography, with a void for a face, which itself epitomizes what must remain at the center of mythology and storytelling: mystery.
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Sit Down and Seek Guidance So we have the three reasons that people become fixated on Souls: the combat, the achievements, and the mystery. But there is a fourth lord of cinder boss, who is conceptually apart from these three: the Lothric Twins. They represent yet another kind of person who must keep playing Dark Souls: the developers. Lothric is striving to produce “a worthy heir,” a proper sequel to Dark Souls 1. The Princes are bound to their chamber as the developers are bound to their project, as that is their curse—“but you may rest here too, if you like.” In this context we can see their duality as the dual nature of having to work on the game and also play it to death. The privilege and the loftiness of the promise of a great piece of art (Lothric), and also having to go back "into the trenches" of the work itself (Lorian). Notably, neither of them can walk, they just teleport around. They are stuck at work, trying to bring the new world into being. Also I can’t go this whole essay without mentioning the obvious: that the Ashen One is bringing Lords to their thrones, and we players and developers have to assume our little chairs and couches when we access this world.
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Playing Beyond the Point of Pleasure Of course the most extreme example of someone stubbornly remaining in the world no matter what is Slave Knight Gael. He is looking for pigment, which seems to be a euphemism for the substance of humanity (the Dark Soul). He wants to give it to the painter, the world-creator, so that a new world can be made. He is willing to indulge in a wasteland of abject violence for as long as it takes in order to renew something. Ironic that he is probably only prolonging the current world in his obsessive drive to recycle it faster.
Let’s examine the relationship between the figure of the painter and her relationship to Gael. That she is a spiritual entity is obvious: we never see her touch the ground, she is always in an upper room and lifted on a piece of furniture. Among other things, she is a clear metaphor for life springing eternally. A creative child who continues to paint despite kidnapping and imprisonment. She is the heart of the painted world, itself a place that symbolizes the idea of the representation of reality.
I want to make sure this is clear, because it is a bit of a kaleidoscope to consider. Any subject in Dark Souls stands for many things, but something that the painted world specifically represents is the very concept of representation. So of course the places in our imaginations are painted worlds, but so is this physical world of appearance, the maya of mundane reality. Not to mention that a work of art is a painted world, and the game we’re discussing is a painted world. When a work of art is able to recreate itself in itself, we can see this funny effect of mirrors reflecting mirrors infinitely. This results in seemingly inexhaustible symbolic content—there is so much potential to find meaning and create connections. Because Moby Dick represents a work of literature; the Tempest represents a play; Twin Peaks represents a TV show, these works can offer extensive insights not only into their medium but into the nature of reality. In these and other examples, the representation of the medium within the work may or may not be a single subject, but since Dark Souls is formally a game about levels and level design, the painted world is the heart of its self-reflexivity. The painted world can be pointed to as the summary of this fractal device. And the personification of that device, its ambassador to the player, is the painter.
The miracle or divine child is also an archetype familiar to us from Lothric, in their struggle to produce the “worthy heir.” Reality seeks salvation through the appearance of grace. They want it in a clear, incontestable form—to be able to point at it and say, "thank goodness we went through all that, because look, now here is the meaning, here is that which validates all that came before." In the world of Dark Souls 3 the religion of the masses is the Lothric stuff; meanwhile knowledge of the painted world is much more obscure. Lothric’s religion is obviously regulated and hierarchical, while Gael’s devotion to the painter is highly personal and private: he carries around a scrap of painting; he prostrates to a hidden idol in a small chapel; he considers the painter his family. He is emotionally close to the object of his worship.
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But whether it’s Lothric or Ariandel, they are anticipating the divine child to redeem the world. As an archetype, the child ultimately represents surprise. The possibility of being delighted by life in its creative novelty. The child as an archetype appears in our own behavior when we do something without any sort of contrivance or mental interference, doing something in the world which doesn’t seem to have come from who we conceive ourselves to be. This is miraculous. Such an action enchants the world, and there is no explaining it, even if it may weave all kinds of stories around itself, retroactively framing things that have led up to it as portents or promises. (Though not exclusive to him, this trait is well-known in characterizations of Christ, and DS3 is clearly indebted to Christian iconography, so do with that what you will). Regardless of the specific cultural invocation, the divine child is a personification of something that happens within the human spirit. TFW you are renewed by a fresh and spontaneous engagement with life.
The grace of the miraculous often comes to us through play. Play is more of an attitude than an activity; the feeling of play may come to us through making a painting, or chatting with a friend, or moving around in a video game. We can play video games idly, competitively, experimentally, creatively, studiously, whatever, the feeling of “play” can show up regardless. We can sit there playing a certain game from a certain motivation, and feel totally rote and joyless, and question, “Why am I doing this?” Or we might sit there and play the same game with the same motivation, feeling totally lit up by it, its purpose to us obvious and self-validating. We are not even questioning why we are doing it, we are enjoying life.
This is really the ground that the miraculous tends to land on. Grace, meaning, and an immanent love of life are more likely to show up when we are in flow and not exercising our capacity for self-assessment. But like everything in life, we mistake the images and objects around us for the feeling of grace. Any given object might only be the catalyst once; it’s not about the object. This is extremely easy to see in cases of acute nostalgia; adults chase enchantment through collecting Zelda memorabilia or going to Disneyland, in pursuit of what kindled their spirit as a child. It was never really the game or the character that was doing it, it was what they were able to access within themselves.
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So anyway Gael has yet to realize this. He thinks the Dark Soul is out there in something else. That it will be yielded as a drop if he just kills the right enemy, or 10,000 enemies, or goes to the right place at the right time. You can see that this is something of a synthesis of all the other Buddhist defilements: there are elements of completionism/greed, violence/hatred, mysticism/delusion. There is even the suggestion of the developer of these games again, in that Gael is a “slave,” forced into participation in the world to assist some creative apotheosis. (Isn’t it funny that his weapon is a worn-down executioner’s sword?—whether the person coding or the person playing, we are all “executing” command after command). The thing that really keeps him on the wheel is something beyond any of the player types and their vices; it is almost some sort of pure, amoral automatism, a churning drive that on one side resembles wanton nihilism, and on another side single-minded piousness. Is one disguised as the other, or has Gael somehow stepped beyond this binary? Yet another dichotomy in Dark Souls that begs to be reconciled, but whose tension creates the opportunity to participate creatively in its expansive mythology. When things are held apart we can move between them.
To really understand Gael, we have to contend with the question of a person’s relationship to their own soul, since that relationship is so plainly suggested by Gael and the painter. (This question, by the way, is much elaborated in Elden Ring, with its repeated foregrounding of the image of the maiden or “consort”). If we were to see Gael and the painter as partitions within one person--whether she is his soul, or his inner life, or his better nature, whatever—then in any case Gael is the side which goes out into the world and experiences it. He is the creative extension into the world as its active participant and realizer. Yet he is clothed as the warrior, the executioner. While the one who is dressed as the artist, the painter, just stays in her room and imagines the world—but this is where the magic of creation is really felt. We involve ourselves in life, or in a game, but we are only really changed and renewed when that exterior experience is “brought home” into the inner life. We do something “in the game,” but the act of “painting,” in renewing the world through our creative interpretation, is a decidedly interior experience.
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lxmelle · 7 days
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Seems like there is some discourse on twitter/now X on the afterlife after SPOILER ALERT it was revealed that Sukuna’s unborn twin had a soul (still considered one soul with his though) that reincarnated.
This makes reincarnation canon in the jjk world, which I guess it always was, if we think about the implications of how tengen and the star plasma vessel and the six eyes were tied by fate.
I was particularly interest in the implications on Gojo and also since the chains of fate that tied them are broken.
I touched on north and south in previous analysis posts. As much as I love Gojo, he was never going to be revived because it just made sense for Gege to finish his character arc that way.
With the newer chapters showing that his brain was bleeding, and that he was sliced in such a way where his heart and gut may be cut through, it also wasn’t going to be likely.
North was starting anew, meaning rebirth / reincarnation. Not returning to life as Gojo. Gojo was satisfied with his life as he left it.
So it seems like maybe the airport was limbo. And he opted for South, as the chapter title indicated. To go back, which Mei Mei’s words to Nanami seemed to be accepted by those present. Going back to the past, as they once were.
I couldn’t really read or find multiple discourses on the subject on twitter (just a couple), but I think they’ve expanded it in the direction I touched on in my recent post on souls that went a bit too far. In sum, were all six eyes users in the history of Japan the same soul - Gojo Satoru?
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Someone’s interpretation was that Gojo and Geto were also tied by fate, seeing as a CSM user can help regain balance in the world due to the increase in curses caused by the presence of six eyes + limitless like with Gojo’s birth. But this was never canon or ever officially mentioned.
I wonder myself if, in this lifetime, the cycle of rebirth / fate was broken not only because of Toji and Kenjaku, but also because of a CSM user like Geto allowed someone strong like a six eyes user to understand empathy and love. To connect with those weaker than him and not keep coming back to life - as per Yuta who questioned Uro -
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Why do you keep coming back? Those with compassion and loving kindness (again Buddhist themes) may become free from the suffering and cycle of rebirth/reincarnation. Why keep choosing to? I guess the focus is on unresolved and unfinished business.
So instead of choosing to reincarnate as someone new, the cycle just ends, as they all choose to remain as souls and go South. To stay as they are. Together.
I still stand firm in my desire to believe what i wrote a while back on Camillas and musings on the afterlife:
The cover of vol. 26 was Gojo visiting
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And they are a form of souls that died without regret, thus elevated to a Kami (or deity):
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I think / headcannon that in the jjk world they are souls not bogged down with vengeance or being forced to reincarnate. They all presumably died, free of lingering attachments to the world.
This may allow those who died “without regret” to choose where they can live in another world. Which is pretty much a Shinto belief, but when applied to the jjk world, may depend on how they died.
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Anyway, I’ll be waiting until Gege reveals more about what it all means within the jjk world. For now, here’s the link on the info on Shintoism I took those grabs from: https://justaboutjapan.com/what-happens-after-death-in-shinto-understanding-the-japanese-afterlife/
I also forgot to add this piece:
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mastersoftheair · 2 months
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ok, so my own final (and very, very fresh) thoughts, bc i wanted to wait until i'd watched everything to make a sweeping opinion of the whole series, and it's quite opinionated. and long. probably too long. i write essays for fun (everyone point and laugh):
my personal (and very, very fresh) ranking of the hbo war shows (not including gen kill bc that's a different war, sorry) goes- band of brothers > masters of the air > the pacific (it's the same for my title score rankings. that hasn't changed yet)
my main points of contention with MotA are 1) the nine episodes, 2) the length of the episodes, and 3) certain editing choices. nine episodes, compared to the classic ten, isn't Nearly enough time to showcase all that they wanna showcase (especially when the episodes are as short as they are, once you get past the recap and "next on" parts). and they wanna showcase A Lot! there so much going on! i'd ask them to pace themselves, but they literally Can't!
i mean, the editing choices are a Whole Thing! practically gives me whiplash sometimes lol. i feel like the weaker episodes still have parts that are Really good, but like. Individually. they don't work together as a stronger whole, which is to the episode's detriment. rather than jumping around (as the show often did), they could've benefited a lot from focusing on the One Story instead of squeezing three more stories into there (i say that, but i think the 4-5-6 episode run (all with multiple stories per episode) did this very well while Still being very good episodes, so it's not like it Can't be done, it just didn't work for 7, 8 and (partly) 9). granted, i suspect a chunk of the weird editing can be blamed on, well, there being only nine (and not all that long) episodes and no one wanting to cough up enough money for a tenth. ugh! i'm blaming both hbo And appletv for this (and covid19 ig). it's just One More Episode, how much could it cost?? and on the subject of episodes, why no episode titles? you used to love episode titles! i could've brainstormed episode titles for them For Free!!
when it comes to the characters, the rankings remain the same: BoB > MotA > TP. it's not totally fair tho, since BoB followed the exact same (and large-ish) group of guys from beginning to end, so you're Gonna know who they all are and get attached. this wasn't the case (for me!) when watching TP, since, unlike BoB, they jump around from group to group. i never felt like i got to know them all that well, outside of the main characters. i think MotA almost hits that sweet spot, especially knowing they had those two main things going against it: large cast And jumping from group to group. there's a case to be made for bias here (i Was the blog blogging about everything MotA for like. years.), but i still think they found a good enough balance of fleshing out the main characters while Also helping the audience get to know about a bunch of minor characters, of which there are a shitton (and their personalities, motivations, backgrounds, quirks).
there's also the representation of women. actual angel renée lemaire is and will always be a cut above the rest (bastogne is just That Good, argue with the wall). she's written so well that it almost makes me forget about how a bunch of women are portrayed in carentan. i have...issues with how women are portrayed in TP (even tho i love lena), so there's that. MotA falls in the middle (again) bc there's Way more women on-screen, but the writing can be questionable. balanced (as all things should be?) captain l'sandra wing-westgate is a character of all time, but episode 7 birthed the craziest discourse known to man (the hbo war fandom), but it wasn't all that unwarranted. manon and michou were sooo cool, but we didn't see nearly enough of them (another victim of the 'editing too many stories into one episode' problem. why not a whole resistance episode? or at least as the only b-plot?). paulina was interesting, but fulfilled one of those 'attractive foreign woman gives sage advice during/after sex' tropes (there's probably a tvtropes page for that idk). so many red cross girls, but none of the in-depth payoff :/ epic highs (multiple women!!) + epic lows (writing women??) = pretty tolerable. not great, not terrible. it was aight. i trust the fandom to build on this tho.
narrative is the big one tho. it's the whole "doing so much with so little" thing they've got going on (i'm ignoring their big budget here lol, could've been bigger). rather than having one main story with many connecting side stories (like BoB), it does the TP thing where there's many semi-connecting side stories set in the same general area. it helps that there's crosby's narration (i enjoy narration, sue me!), and he helps everything connect, sorta. but there's still other side stories that have Nothing to do with him (sandra's side gigs (revealing what she did takes away the mystery of what she Might be doing), the tuskegee airmen, quinn and bailey's eurotrip). would it have helped if there were two narrators (say, someone like rosie)? idk. gonna sit with that one. if there's a through-line, it's not super obvious like in the other two shows. which is insanely funny to me bc i literally like TP less, but that show's got an Extremely tight through-line all the way down. i can't lie and say it doesn't!
back to budget- i've seen people criticize this show for being called "masters of the air" when there's not much of "the air". ig that's fair, but there's the money issue, again. also, it'd get very repetitive if they were always in "the air". there was enough confusion about identifying who was who with the masks on, so imagine if that was Every Episode. out of All the issues the show has, this is the least issue-y. again, that's just my opinion, and it could change.
another budget thing (i think??)- idk enough about costuming and hair for period pieces so i can't comment on that with my 0 background in it, all i Can say is that i knoooooow people were clowning on marjorie cleven's hair in episode 1 (and i could see why, no such thing as 1940s beach waves). but from what i could understand- that actress' addition was a last-minute thing (bc i had No idea who the hell she was and i already found someone cast for marjorie all the way back in 2021). maybe there's something to say about the quality of rush jobs, but i really do think it was the most last-minute thing bc it came out of Nowhere, and timeline-wise, it looks like that bit was done long after everything else had been filmed. outside looking in, it seems something probably went wrong/didn't work out with who or what they already had and there wasn't enough wiggle room (time and money) to fix it. this isn't me being an apologist (lol), but i feel like a theorist at a big board bc nothing adds up! and i wanna know what happened! i'm just speculating! speculating on this blog is All i did for like Years lmaooo.
this is more of a side thing, but some of the lines in MotA feel really on-the-nose, almost corny. and that was Gonna be a knock against it, but there's some equally Extremely on-the-nose lines in both BoB and TP (Especially in BoB), so if i give MotA shit for it, i'd have to give all three shows shit for it lol. none of them are free of cheese.
another silly aside- no peaches, no main gingers, no main eugenes! we can't have 'em all, but c'mon!
there Is some good tho lol. one thing that MotA really has going for it, that i think the other shows have less of, is- and GOD it feels so weird to call this "world-building" when it's actual goddamn history, but- it's got world-building. maybe that isn't the best word for it. but i like how much Bigger ww2 feels in this show. BoB is one stop, then the next stop, then the next stop, which is, admittedly, good from a narrative-perspective (easy to follow), but not as good when you want a scale of how devastating the war is (in fairness, it was filmed in 2000). even TP feels pretty "enclosed" in a way. there's island-hopping, yeah, but all the damn islands look the same (not including australia lol). it's a theatre of the war we otherwise don't really get to see, but there still isn't all that much to see. it's water and sand and rock and dirt. which is the point, but Whatever! would've been cool if we saw sledge and co. in china, but moving on. MotA's able to really show the scale of it, both in the air and on the ground (that scene in germany during episode 6 was both harrowing and fantastic, also the inclusion of the actual children forced to fight nearer to the war's end in the finale). idk i just liked how it was able to zoom in and zoom out (and in and out again) in a way that the other shows weren't.
another thing it's got that the other shows don't is Really driving home how young everyone is (not "child soldier" young, but damn young). the cast is full of baby faces (rip babyface). a lot of ww2 shows/movies don't bother casting to reflect this, but i think overlooking that takes away from the overall impact. you browse through some old newspaper articles or photos of soldiers during ww2 enough and you're gonna Regularly get hit with the face of someone who looks like they could've sat in the desk next to you during a high school lit class. a lot of those b&w grinning faces look like kids bc they pretty much were (more so if they lied about their age). you don't really get that in BoB or TP (it's Crazy when the real life pics of the soldiers portrayed in those shows look younger than the actors).
i'm mixed about the tuskegee airmen. what we have, i love (thank you, dee rees). unfortunately, my biggest irk is that it leaves me wanting more of them, which i won't ever get. speaking as a black person (not speaking for All black people, just how i personally feel about it), having them included feels like a catch-22. if they weren't included in any capacity (all while knowing there were whole tuskegee airmen in stalag iii with the white main characters), there'd be a problem. however, including them (all while having these time constraints and not enough focus on them) leads to the feeling of having them "tokenized" (which i can see). there's no world where there'd be 50/50 split (even a 70/30 split) bc, at that point, just give them a show of their own. but there'd still be a general annoyance that big budget ww2 shows are only ever white. on the other hand, hanks and spielberg and orloff and miller and all the directors (except dee rees) are white, and how good of a story about black people are you really gonna get from the perspective of nonblack people? that in mind, i personally don't feel put-off by having the three tuskegee airmen in the posters/trailers/promos, bc i just Know there'd be a whole nother problem if they weren't included in them at all despite being in the show for however long (it'd be even worse if they made their pictures smaller). like i don't work in advertising, but i don't know if a "sweet spot" even exists for something like this. people would be pissed off no matter what imo (i'm also speaking with a bias here bc i had to browse through sooooo many comments written by white guys whining and crying and pissing and shitting themselves once they learned that the tuskegee airmen were gonna be in the show in Any capacity, so i'm just cool knowing they're in shambles rn (and josiah cross- he played richard macon- always goes Wild seeing his face in the promos, and his joy is pretty contagious).
i give it somewhere like a 7.5-8/10. 3.75 stars out of 5. not perfect, subject to change, gotta marinate, but i'm overall happy with it! MotA's best episodes are better than many other individual hbo war episodes. should i be grading it using the overall sum of its parts, not just the different parts? idk, i'm not being paid to grade lol.
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max1461 · 8 days
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Context here
No, if I'm to be blunt: internet discourse people only care about culture when it's astrology &c. Actually that's not even true. But anyway, many people care very much about other forms of culture in both a normative and a personal sense.
In the personal sense, many people are very attached to the way they do laundry or the language they speak, and while you (reader, not just OP) might not care about these things in your own life, they are perfectly reasonable things to care about (as I've said previously: as reasonable as gender presentation or video games or large cardinal axioms). On the normative side, many people very much do desire to assimilate others into some arbitrary set of norms, to make everyone dress the "right" way and talk the "right" way and so on; this is the bread and butter of nationalism. If one disagrees with this agenda, as I do, one should be vocal about it, because it is very mainstream!
Obviously there is a sticky line between having norms at all (including norms of personal free expression) and forcibly maintaining norms, but a fuzzy boundary does not make a vacuous distinction. Return again to my "norms of stand-off-ishness vs. norms of chattiness between strangers" example and meditate on it somewhat.
But anyway, the upshot is that those axes of pluralism which you claim are not contentious are contentious, and the people invested in those debates have reasonable reasons to be invested, and some positions commonly articulated in those debates are worthy of opposition.
If you're sort of... thinking about this all in a purely symbol-shuffling way rather than looking at the reality of culture "on the ground", I could see how some claim like "the only two self-consistent positions are Chauvinist universalism which seeks to assimilate everyone to a chosen set of 'optimal' norms, or complete moral relativism which is indifferent to both the behavior and living conditions of others (or at least to members of the outgroup)" could make sense. But in actual reality these are not the two options, and I don't think either of them are very good options, and I think this is pretty evident on the face of things.
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incorporeal-entity · 3 months
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This is Starcutter a colab character I made with @quotidianish. He started off as a joke character but it ended up becoming a funny character with lore. Basically Starcutter is Foeslayer's elusive father who was born into a high ranking rich family who has had his life planned out for him. Since he has known this from a young age he developed a relaxed almost aloof go with the flow type of personality so he can enjoy what little freedom he does get. He then meets Prudence (Foeslayer's mom) who only married him because he was high ranking, rich, and because she missed his aloof personality for being stupid and easy to control.
That was not the case and Prudence found herself very easily annoyed by Starcutter's personality and habit to talk about weird philosophy and freedom. This culminated to Prudence trying to kill Starcutter but failing to do so. They get a divorce after this with Prudence getting some of Starcutter's family money. This causes the reputation of Starcutter's family to be damaged and amidst all this chaos and discourse Starcutter realizes that this could be his only chance to escape and be free so he takes the rest of the money and leaves the Night kingdom.
He spends most of his time traveling Pyrrhia basically being on vacation. Since this happens before Foeslayer hatched and because Prudence doesn't want to bring him up ever so Foeslayer never gets to know anything about her father and Starcutter never gets to meet Foeslayer. Despite his aloof and go with the flow personality during the day when he is about to rest he hopes that the dragonet he had is okay not knowing what unfolded. Also one unintentional consequence of him cutting ties with the Nigh kingdom and exploring Pyrrhia is that he wasn't there when all the Nighwings flew away so he actually still in Pyrrhia even after the events of Darkstalker Legends but since he was never really attached to the Night Kingdom he just really doesn't care so it doesn't bother him that much, the only thing that does being not knowing what happened to his dragonet
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utilitycaster · 6 months
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I feel like a lot of people are projecting their own feelings towards what Taliesin did onto the cast as they seemed to me more stressed than necessarily angry at Taliesin but I don't actually play DnD so I thought I might ask you if what Taliesin did really was extreme enough to have actually made the cast as other playerd mad. I've just seen the claim that the cast is mad at x before, with Sam having scanlan leave or Bowlgate or Liam handing over the beacon and then the cast weren't actually mad at all.
Hi anon,
So just a blanket statement for the various questions I have received: until like, Wednesday, today was supposed to be a work from home day, as I often try to make my Fridays; I was pulled in to help an injured coworker briefly this morning, which I understand and which was relatively painless and would have left me free to work from home after 10 am, which is entirely reasonable. I then was sent to a last minute additional site and it turned out they were completely unprepared; this wasted about two and a half hours of my time and I'm now, understandably, extremely annoyed. This may bleed into my responses, though by and large I'm going to specify if I'm annoyed at you or not. Anyway, anon, I'm not annoyed at you at all and any "you" I say below is addressed to the fandom on the whole; this is a valid question.
Yeah the cast is mad. Yeah that's valid; as Matt pointed out there were extensive warnings specifically indicating that this would be a bad idea for Ashton to do. The cast is attached to each other's characters! They were, in fact, mad about Scanlan leaving and Tary showing up, because they care about Scanlan and that was an intense scene; Liam genuinely thought Sam was leaving the show. They were mad about this! They are also, probably going to get over it pretty quickly, or be "mad" about it in the way that your friends still roast you in the group chat over a typo years later. This isn't really even a D&D thing other than that Matt had Evontra'vir and Allura repeatedly say "you might fucking shatter." It's an anger born of concern that Ashton might have been permanently killed. But they weren't, and even if they were, it's fine. (The cast was not remotely mad about bowlgate though; see following paragraph.)
Which brings me to my next point. I have really only checked the blogs of people I follow because of aforementioned work problems and have barely glanced at the tag, and this is in conversation not just with this episode and that discourse and me being pissed off over real-world personal inconveniences, but also the larger discussion of "must stories have conflict?" and the fact that all the people who until quite recently insisted that actually Bells Hells are ROCK SOLID TIGHTLY BONDED and shat repeatedly on the astute point that Bells Hells are actually very surface level pleasant and don't ever discuss their issues have done a 180 that they will never acknowledge. Anyway:
It's extremely normal to be mad at people you care about, and to have arguments with them, and in fact it's likely more unhealthy to not have disagreements and get mad ever, and some of you sound like you've never been outside or had any friends. Like really that's it in the end. Actually believing Marisha and Liam were mad at each other? Friendless behavior. It's completely fine to wonder if this anger was valid, but like, honestly, people get mad over dumb shit every day and the point is that even if it's a stupid thing for the cast to be mad at (obviously, I think it's fine), be fucking normal and recognize that friends can be mad over dumb shit or valid shit and talk through it. Like. Some of you have no conflict resolution skills because you see all forms of confrontation as inherently evil and couldn't be me. I get in fights all the time and I get out of them and it's great. I am glad I no longer live in the midwest but god I cut swathes through problems there because I had zero investment in being Minnesota Nice when I was angry. Somehow this has turned into life advice, which is not what I thought it would be, but anyway. It's okay to be mad at your friends and expressing it in the way the cast did is super normal and they will probably all go out for drinks; as a person who has never chilled once in her entire life, I think we should all chill.
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miru667 · 1 month
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How do you manage to stay in a fandom for so long? I'm always mario jumping from fandom to fandom every 3-6 months
Oh, so many reasons. I think I've answered this before but in a much more concise way so idk what happened here when I tried to answer again from scratch but uhhh I wrote a lot lol?? Long ramble time. 😂
I found this fandom at a point in my life when I really emotionally needed it, so I got really attached to it. I stayed because of the friends I've made in it and because of the OCs I got invested in, both mine and other people's, and every so often something invigorated my interest like a new roleplay I got to join or new concept art that got discovered.
I'm also just a really dedicated person (for better or worse) and I still have ideas that I want to get out there creatively. I don't get a lot of free time, and I rarely have energy for hobbies after work so my time passes slowly in the sense that I may still be in the middle of appreciating a thing, meanwhile everyone else has already sped through and processed it and moved on.
So I've gotta be really careful about choosing what to spend my limited time and energy on. It sometimes takes me a whole month to draw a piece of art that I'm proud of. It would be a huge waste of my time to spend so much energy on a fandom that after 3 months I think I might not care about anymore.
And like, if it's going to take me a month to draw 1 thing, what am I going to choose? Fanart of a character from a show that I just finished that I might possibly move on from in 3 months? Or art of my darling Audrey OC that I've been developing for years and whom I know will always bring me joy for the rest of my life? It's not a hard choice! Like I'm sure it's obvious by now but I really love my oc. It's gotten to the point that I look for her in every media I consume. I like characters because they remind me of her, and I like plots because they remind me of her. When I watch a movie and end up loving it, I'm not going to be drawing fanart for that movie, I'm more likely going to be drawing Audrey Grace in some way that's consciously or subconsciously inspired by that movie. I'm sure other people with beloved ocs can relate to that, too.
Back to media consumption: I'm constantly watching new things, shows, movies, letsplays, and I'm able to love them just fine, but I never participate in their fandoms (unless you count reblogging fanart as participation. I personally don't). I just don't feel motivated to and I feel like it's unnecessary. I shouldn't need to prove anything. You can appreciate media without engaging in fandom. In fact, I encourage it, because a lot of what I see in fandoms these days is just stressful, at least to me. And I don't want that stress. I'm much happier as a person when I don't have to read other people's opinions, discourse and drama over some show's themes or ships or whatever. I can just quietly revel in my own enjoyment of the show without being tainted by anything else, and my love for it is not any less valid than the person who's livetweeting their loud emotions while watching the same show and putting out fanart 1 hour after every episode. Bless them, though.
And I guess that's mostly what I do these days with the Onceler fandom, too. Appreciating it more quietly these days, I mean. It's just that...I have a fandom related oc so I draw her. And I have friends here so we do stuff together and we reference fandom inside jokes no matter what activity we're doing. If I encounter art that deeply moves me personally, I reblog it, just like I reblog art for other media on my sideblog. When anyone has a fandom history related question, I'm eager to answer because I don't want the past to be misrepresented or misunderstood. And also, since it's been over a decade, this fandom has long ago become my daily normal. I can do whatever I like but I can't really "leave" this fandom unless I delete all my social media and cut off all my online friends. And delete my memories of the past 12 years of my life as well. Just become a completely different person.
So I guess I can reverse the sentiment: I can't relate to people who hop fandoms every 3 to 6 months. 😭 All the power to you, but that's just not the way I happen to live my life, nor the way I engage with the media I consume! The Once-ler fandom was the one exception. It was special.
But who knows, anything can happen in the future. I'm not so proud that I'm purposely blocking myself from looking at other fandoms or anything. I just go with the flow! Right now I'm slowly making my way through jjba, an omori playthrough, a Plague Tale playthrough, and urusei yatsura season 2 (the new anime). Probably nothing will come out of any it except for a bunch of Audrey inspos, but again, who knows. XD I'm also going to an idkhow concert soon, and I've bought merch from their store already. Does that count as participating in a fandom? Maybe not. But now that I think of it, even if I "join" another fandom, it doesn't necessarily mean I'd leave the onceler fandom either, so maybe it wouldn't matter haha.
Thank you for the ask and thank you to anyone who's read my entire answer!
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rhube · 1 month
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Existentialism and anti-fascism
I don't have the spoons to make this the essay it should be, but a passing quote from Sartre on Mastodon brought something into focus for me that should have been blindingly obvious. The quote is this:
Never believe that anti-Semites are completely unaware of the absurdity of their replies. They know that their remarks are frivolous, open to challenge. But they are amusing themselves, for it is their adversary who is obliged to use words responsibly, since he believes in words. The anti-Semites have the right to play. They even like to play with discourse for, by giving ridiculous reasons, they discredit the seriousness of their interlocutors. They delight in acting in bad faith, since they seek not to persuade by sound argument but to intimidate and disconcert. If you press them too closely, they will abruptly fall silent, loftily indicating by some phrase that the time for argument is past. - Jean Paul Sartre (1945), Anti-Semite and Jew, pp. 13-14
(It should be acknowledged that he's specifically addressing anti-Semitism, but apart from the fact that fascism and anti-Semitism tend to go hand in hand, I don't think it's controversial to say that they operate using the same playbook.)
What jumped out at me is the bit about acting in bad faith.
You see, the importance of acting in good faith is a central aspect of existentialist ethics. In brief, the thought is that, for conscious beings (humans) existence precedes essence - we are fundamentally free and self-determining; each person decides their own purposes (their 'essence'). When you blame your actions on external forces (genetics, societal pressures, God etc) you are acting in bad faith and seeking to evade responsibility by denying that, whatever circumstances you found yourself in, you still had some form of choice for which you are responsible.
When you act in good faith you not only acknowledge the responsibility for your choice and its consequences, but also recommend that action to others. By acting, you attach value to the kind of action you performed (it is worthy of being done), and it is in this that moral value is created.
In this way, integrity is central to existentialist ethics.
As we have all seen in recent years, fascists have absolutely no integrity. They cannot be shamed. Few have denied that characters like Donald Trump, Boris Johnson, and Silvio Berlusconi are ridiculous figures. Frequently those inside and outside the countries in which they reside look on in horror and ask themselves 'How is this possible? Why do people keep voting for them? Can't you see these men are a joke? A dangerous joke?'
Yeah, but they don't care. They live in bad faith. They have no integrity, because they know integrity is draining, and taking responsibility for what they do and say is something they have no intention of ever doing. They don't deign to give reasons because they want to convince you that the reasons (or at least ones that make sense) don't matter. They will dizzy you by jumping from argument to contradictory argument without hesitation, because any person who lives in good faith feels bound to unpick the mess they leave behind to justify their own decisions.
But it's a trick. You should be prepared to justify yourself to interlocutors acting in good faith, in as much as you should take responsibility for your actions, but the person acting in bad faith has no argument. Their actions are not at all bound by anything they say. You are arguing without an interlocutor, and the fascist has succeeded in wasting time and energy you could have put to meaningful resistance.
I've always been partial to existentialist philosophy: there is no fate but what we make for ourselves, no meaning to life but what we put into it. I don't think it's the whole picture. Long-time readers will know I favour a refined form of rule utilitarianism, but a part of that is that I believe you cannot have a happy society without integrity.
Just as with Davidson's Principle of Charity - we cannot even begin to have meaningful communication unless we assume that those with whom we communicate are speaking the truth and are largely correct in their beliefs.
Fascists trample all over that. They do not care about the truth and they have no problem lying to you. They require no correspondence between their words and either the world or their actions.
And yet it's still true that they rely on a background of truth and sincerity in order to be understood. They need to at least appear to be speaking the same language as we do. They may more frequently stumble into obvious gaffs where communication collapses - Johnson's vague blustering noises, Trump's 'covfefe' - but they have to string enough words together to at least *sound* like what they are saying means something.
Anyway, the point is: I always admired this philosophy, and I knew that it came out of the post-war sense of abandonment - that there is no force for good that prevents death and torture on a massive scale, only human endeavour. What humans choose to say and do.
As someone who has often been troubled by the quietism of despair, I immediately found this deeply comforting and empowering, even in as a teenager in the boom years of the turn of the millennium.
What I hadn't put together was that talk of good faith and bad faith is not only a deep philosophical truth about ethics, it is a straightforward practical critique of fascist rhetoric.
This way of arguing to score points - usually in support of right-wing positions - was something I found intensely frustrating as a young adult. I can remember specific individuals who behaved that way and the destruction the wreaked in my life. As a philosopher - someone who is good at arguing - it felt sort of shameful to me that I wasn't quick-witted enough to marshal my thoughts in the moment and unpick why what they were saying was nonsense.
But I can now see that that wasn't my fault. What I eventually did - which was to remove myself entirely from their presence - was the only rational call. It's just soul-destroying that for me that meant leaving behind the vast majority of my friends, who couldn't see what the problem was with that person, and were thus left to be poisoned against me by what they said.
I'm digressing into an old pain. The point is that at that time, people behaving like this were isolated individuals. Now they are dominating our politics, traditional media, and social media. Because fascism is rising again.
Of course Sartre was talking about how people who act in bad faith are dickheads that poison our communities - he lived through the rise of fascism!
He was making the incredibly important point that it's not just that a failure to take responsibility for one's actions brings negative value into the world, but that the Worst Wankers You Know literally argue in bad faith as a way to tie careful thinkers in knots and whip up the emotions of less careful thinkers.
A middle-class white 16-year old, living in boom years, just couldn't connect the dots - even though I was still at the intersection of multiple oppressions. I had been raised to fully believe that good debate was possible and should be the goal. I was doing a Media Studies A-Level, so I knew dishonesty happened in news and media, but... how to explain?
Elder Millennials were sold a dream of reality and progress that genuinely seemed to be going on in our teenage years and early 20s. There were still problems to solve, obviously, but many of us - especially where we had some kind of privilege - believed that racism was declining; the gender pay-gap was closing; homophobia was decreasing; and anyone could achieve anything they put their mind to, no matter their disadvantages, if they just tried hard enough. Nevermind that in my country if you were LGBTQ+, but not L or G, you probably didn't realise it, because you weren't allowed to learn about people like you in schools.
It's why so many of us are burnt out. Because it wasn't true. And we tried to be all we could be anyway.
But when you're 16, you're not burnt out yet. You believe that 'Never Again' means it can't possibly happen again. You learned about the Holocaust in school and are horrified, but it's at a complete disconnect from your reality. You have never knowingly heard anyone say anything anti-Semitic (of course, you probably heard things said in code that you didn't understand). It's a feature of The Past. You don't understand how it could have come to be, because no one actually taught you how it came to be.
I read Existentialism is a Humanism, but I didn't read Anti-Semite and Jew. And when they taught Existentialism is a Humanism we discussed Sartre's example of the student who's unsure if he should join the resistance, but no one explained that 'bad faith' wasn't just a technical term that has a specific meaning for Sartre's ethical analysis, it's also literally about how some people make bad-faith arguments as part of fascist and anti-Semitic rhetoric.
So I never thought, 'Oh, this person is arguing in bad faith on purpose to waist my energy,' - like, I sort of knew they were doing it to wind me up and because they were an arsehole, but I didn't get that it was a political strategy for stifling progress.
And all this distillation of political statements into 'sound bites' is fundamentally to the fascist's advantage. Because they explicitly don't care about reasons, and normal humans DO. So when all you heard are sound bites you can fill in reasons not given, and it doesn't matter what you imagine for the fascist, but if a progressive doesn't get to explain their point fully, it's very easy to make them into a strawperson they will spend the next few news cycles failing to unpick.
ARGH.
I'm not sure I'm any nearer to knowing how we defeat fascism. To an extent, it's comforting to know that we came out of it and had these discussions before. But it's endlessly frustrating to know how much was LOST from the public consciousness - even from people who DO know something about what was said - despite the best efforts of philosophers and writers and film directors and everyone who kept trying to communicate it to us.
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freyjas-musings · 9 months
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So I posted a funny reel about Feyre and Lucien returning to Night after destroying the spring court on my IG (she was pretty clever in the way she executed the entire thing anyone who wants to argue can do so with the wall)
This one moral police came into the comment section about how I have "Forgotten" the injustice that was done to the civilians of spring court.... I have deleted the comment but it had me thinking ...
Here is the deal and I want everyone to please pay attention .... " Spring Court" isn't REAL .... TAMLIN isn't real .... FEYRE AND LUCIEN ARENT REAL
These are fictional books with fictional scenarios.... don't be a weirdo who judges real people based on humorous takes on fictional characters and situations unless its a social issue which affects real people ... And no I am not offended or frustrated ... I am amused ... It takes a lot more than that to affect me ... the locus of my identity is interior to me ... 😅😅
I see this with other things too.... If you dislike Azriel you are a feminist ... Nope, not true at all especially if you are an Elain apologist at the same time ... You can empathise with Elain and her behaviour towards Lucien and Nesta based on her trauma while simultaneously disregarding Azriel's unresolved childhood trauma of 500 years and the affect its had on his behaviour?...
That's not Feminism that's just an ordinary stan who doesn't like Az ... Please feel free to leave the word Feminism out of it ... Hate Az for the character traits and own it as a personal preference... its not going to make it any less relevant ... That's totally justifiable (don't attach pro women agenda thats when it becomes weird and politically incorrect)
"Choice" is another famous word in this fandom ... I don't know how young you kids are but as someone who has had multiple relationships before settling in with my husband I can tell choices change for different reasons ... so the entire discourse on choice at a given time is already a failed concept... That isn't Feminism and most certainly not when the same bunch weaponize another character's SA ... you are just an ordinary toxic child throwing a tantrum trying to manipulate your way into making your point 😅
Don't use fictional nonsense to judge real people its stupid and borderlines on delusional
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ladybeug · 9 months
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was scrolling thru your art tag enjoying your comics when i suddenly discovered you were the one that wrote strangers in the bright lights. having gotten into miraculous only very recently, was tickled to experience a very small identity shenanigan of my own
incredible fic btw; i love it soooooo much. brilliant, hilarious, sweet, poignant. out of curiosity have you read much postww1 modernist stuff? i adored the usage of free indirect discourse for the narration, drunken and in motion and alive, almost reminded me of virginia woolf in a weird way lol. sorry if this is weird
Hello!! I'm about to get long-winded and self indulgent in this reply, fair warning :)
here goes:
Wow!! I don’t know how you found strangers in the bright lights if you got into ladybug in any time frame that can be described as “very recently”, I wrote that in 2018 when I was digesting some personal stuff and in a fantastic ladybug renaissance (of which I have now had several, I think I’ll die in this fandom).
But I’m so glad you somehow did. I only write every couple of years when I get really specific ideas, and the time I spend on it turns into memories of who I was when I wrote it. I feel like that must happen to actual writers too, ones who write often, but I haven’t written “often” since like 2009 and have never asked, so there you go.
But I guess that’s all to say that I am very attached to that story and it’s also one of the only things I’ve written that still feels like it hit the chord I was aiming for. It is so cool that anyone still reads it!!
To actually answer your question: I have never read virginia woolf, and the only modernist stuff I've read was years ago for school classes. I have to admit none of the style was inspired by classics, but instead inspired by the weird disassociation of trying to be alone in a crowd.
I have a final self-indulgent thought, it is a fun fact I realized as I was going down memory lane about this:
I associate ‘strangers in the bright lights’ with a friendship I made that stands out as one of the luckiest and rarest friendships I’ve made – I went to a mountain goats concert alone, and stood up at the front early, and met someone else who had gone to the same mountain goats concert alone and had stood up at the front early. It was one of the fastest and most comfortable connections I’ve made, and we liked each other so much we stayed in touch, even after they moved away. We are still in touch every so often, and as far as I’m concerned in a few years they’re going to publish the best fantasy novel you’ve ever read, so watch out for that.
The fanfiction is in part inspired by that beautiful feeling of meeting someone new that you want to talk to, and they want to talk to you, and a drink or two has propped up your self esteem and you don’t have to worry about who you are tomorrow, just who you are right now. It’s escapism. You feel important, and carried by that feeling, for as long as you are there. Lonely who? Not me. Trapped by past versions of myself, who? Not me.
Anyways the fun fact is - I found out this morning that concert was a year AFTER I posted this fanfiction. I didn't know about that moment of my life as I was writing this. The two are so connected in my mind that this is genuinely surprising, but the concert was in September 2019 and I published the fanfic a year beforehand.
In the words of mr. mountain goat himself: we held on to hope of better days coming, and when we did we were right!
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thirdwifeofriversong · 2 months
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okay i need to rant incoherently about HOFAS (and the sjm fandom)
so if you don’t care or haven’t finished the book, feel free to ignore this
(to make a couple of things abundantly clear though, the general discourse in this fandom frustrates me to no end, no hate to anyone obviously, but i get real real tired of the ship wars - i literally don’t care - and of people not using critical reading skills… all/most of these characters are morally grey and flawed and imperfect and it literally does nothing to debate who’s good/bad based on one reading of a morally grey character. they’re grey. even the ones you like. even the ones you hate. that’s the point. also this is mainly aimed at the acotar fandom.)
anyway, some thoughts on HOFAS
i absolutely loved lidia’s characterization. one of the best parts of the book. we love a complex female character. we love a complex double agent who does horrible things and has to live with that. we love female characters who aren’t sidelined just because they have kids
speaking of
i have Feelings about the characterization of lidia as a mother and am still trying to figure out what those are exactly.
but my feelings certainly align with her absolutely demolishing ruhn with that line about her tragic female backstory. what an absolute QUEEN.
i’m not quite sure how to feel about the ruhn/lidia relationship. i love their dynamic, and i support her in her decision to choose ruhn because she did choose him
but also he was pretty sketchy/a little bitch to her at times. was pretty shocked when he shot her in the leg (it seemed out of character). not unforgivable, that’s for her to decide and him to atone for (reminder to the fandom in general) but yeah… interesting… and questionable
okay moving on from them
i do love an ensemble cast. it’s very enjoyable.
the firstlight being gone is a really interesting world building device
you could definitely see the extra emphasis this book on motherhood, through lidia and ember — interesting to see authors evolve and grow with their own lives influencing their themes
honestly, enjoyed the subplots a good bit
ITHAN AND THARION ARE SUPER HOMOEROTIC! i had hope for a little bit that we would finally see a queer relationship unfold. but no. one of them just got married off and now is attached? like bro this werewolf literally almost got himself killed and then murdered someone very important to him to rescue you from enslavement. but that’s totally platonic.
AGH I’m really REALLY frustrated with the lack of queer rep in the MCs in sjm books. like fine, i don’t care that much, at least you have some rep, but it really shows the limitations of comp het storytelling
was very much a guilty pleasure but the crossovers were a very fun touch
ALSO. getting very tired of the “males are all the same across the universe. such alphaholes haha.” BRO THATS NOT HOW PEOPLE WORK AND ALSO DEFINITELY NOT HOW GENDER WORKS. my little queer brain cells are dying here.
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