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#if anything I wrote doesn’t make sense
lakeofsilverpike · 9 months
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Rewatching the first three episodes. Today I am struck by the scene in 2x01 with Lan and Tomas. I have some angsty thoughts to share:
Lan says, “She wants me to leave.” I want to suggest that perhaps before Moiraine started trying to push Lan away by saying cruel things and ignoring him, she may have actually had a conversation in which she explained that she wants him to leave to protect him. He said no, and after a few more iterations of that conversation, Moiraine acknowledged to herself what she always knew, that asking wouldn’t work. That she would have to be so cruel as to drive Lan away from her.
It just makes my heart break more for her. Moiraine who maybe gave it a go with words, hoping she and Lan could part with their relationship intact, with words of love, and without Lan thinking she hates him. But Lan of course refused to leave and so Moiraine felt she had no choice but to push him away to try to save his life.
Lan tells Tomas that Lan needed the bond to tell him when “[Moiraine’s] tired, she’s hungry, she’s angry, she’s afraid.” It’s interesting to me that Moiraine can obviously still read Lan perfectly. Each jab and insult and attempt to push him away reflects her absolute understanding of him and what he’s feeling.
Lan tells Tomas that he is almost as stubborn as Moiraine. It’s like Lan knows he’s going to give in already, can feel that he’s let Moiraine wear him down. I’ve struggled with fully grasping why Lan is having trouble reading Moiraine here. I understand fully that he is hurt by her actions. I even understand why he might leave. But understanding why she was acting as she was - that seems to obvious. Lan, should be able to understand easily, should know that of course Moiraine does not believe he is beneath her or that he failed her. Just knowing Moiraine for twenty years, he should know. Looking at her face, her ridiculously expressive and open face as she speaks of meeting him. Lan should know her feelings for him and why she is acting as she is. There should be no doubt.
I think I’ve settled on a reading of Lan that he would normally be able to read Moiraine perfectly well without the bond, but he is so consumed by his own feelings of failure and guilt that he is unable to focus on Moiraine and her feelings and motivations fully. He feels he failed Moiraine. He gave in to his wish for a night of pleasure and that choice allowed Moiraine a chance to mask the bond when he would think that normal. Lan cannot get through to Moiraine. He cannot get her to talk to him. He cannot help ease her pain. He cannot give her back what she lost. And he takes this as his failure and focuses on himself and how he’s failed.
When Verin and Tomas at dinner encourage Lan to just sit with Moiraine and support her, this is what they are seeing. Lan’s guilt, while focused on Moiraine and his desire to help her, actually obscures him to what she is actually feeling and what she needs. He focuses on himself, what he’s done wrong, how he’s fails her, what Moiraine’s actions mean about him. And he struggles to see what her actions mean about her, her deep love for him, her willingness to sacrifice his love and support if it means Lan will live. Moiraine is simultaneously trying to cope with a tremendous loss and trying to push away Lan to save him. And I don’t think he fully sees this or understands it.
Sitting with Moiraine in silence may not have gotten Moiraine to be less determined to push Lan away as she believes it’s the only way to save his life. It may not have made her talk to Lan. But Lan sitting there and thinking about Moiraine, being open to seeing Moiraine, really seeing her as Lan has for twenty years, may have allowed him to understand Moiraine’s motivations. But I think he was too focused on what Moiraine’s pain and loss meant about Lan and who he is and his perceived failures. And ultimately that is what keeps him from understanding Moiraine in this moment and why she is doing what she is.
This is not a Lan blaming post. He’s doing his best. And Moiraine does know him incredibly well and can read him perfectly and so she hurts him with perfect precision. But man does she need a hug. Because Adeleas is right when she says Lan is taking things too personally. He blames himself for Moiraine being hurt because the loss of the bond impacts him and his feelings about his role in life, he is unable to truly see Moiraine. A woman who is coping with a life altering loss and also trying to save Lan and in doing so denying herself any support. Someone go hug Moiraine!
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a-little-unsteddie · 5 months
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cw: child abuse mentioned, child neglect
Steve, who was never allowed to play in the snow as a child because it was ‘too messy’. Steve, who stared longingly outside as he watched other kids play in the snow. Steve, wanting to build a snowman, or an igloo, or have a snowball fight, but was denied each and every time by his parents. “It’s uncouth, Steven.” “It’s dirty, Steven.” “You’ll just whine that you’re cold, Steven.” “No.” “No.” “No.” Until he stopped asking altogether, even as he stared out his bedroom window at the other kids playing. Steve who loves the snow but was never allowed to play. The one time he snuck out, he was brought inside being dragged by his ear and spanked until he cried.
And then some for crying at all.
Steve goes shopping with his mom and sees a snow globe and all but cries for her to get it for him. If he can’t have the snow outside, he wants to have a snow globe to have it inside. She lets him get it, but not without commenting ‘at least it’s not going outside’.
Thus starts a collection, of sorts. Whenever he sees a new snow globe, he makes his mom buy him it and because he never asks to go outside to play in the snow if she buys one, she keeps buying them for him.
He has around 10 or 15 snow globes by the time he’s a teenager and left alone more than he isn’t. He still doesn’t go out to play in the snow, even if he silently yearns to, because now he’s ‘too old’ to play out in the snow. Tommy doesn’t like being cold, so he never goes out, and Carol won’t do something if Tommy’s not there, so Steve doesn’t bother asking her to go outside.
Steve becomes friends with Dustin and the rest of the party, and he still doesn’t let himself play with them, even when Dustin begs him to. He passes on the same excuses to him as his mom told him, and the words feel like ash in his mouth, but he doesn’t just play in the snow like he’s aching to. It’s too cold, he’ll be wet and miserable later, he doesn’t want to get water all over the house.
Mostly, they’re excuses because he’s kind of worried he doesn’t know how to play in the snow. That somehow he’ll be bad at it.
Eventually, when he and Robin become friends and their first winter together happens, he tells her this secret fear. It’s right after the kids go out to play, and it’s just them, and he whispers to her.
“I don’t think I’ll be any good at it.”
Robin is confused, of course, because how can you be ‘bad’ at playing in the snow? He elaborates to her that he’s never played and she’s less confused but more angry at his parents, which he thinks is an over reaction and she insists he’s having an under reaction, whatever that means, and the moment passes. Steve is relieved to have revealed that much to her. He still doesn’t go outside, and Robin gets cold easily, so she doesn’t want to go outside, so they stay inside together.
He still collects snow globes, when he sees them. He buys one in front of the kids and brushes it off as a white elephant gift for a family thing, but displays it in the unused guest bedroom with the rest of the snow globes. It’s on the other side of the house from where every other guest bed is, so usually no one takes it, and so he knows his collection is safe.
Even if he keeps it secret, and plans to keep it secret forever, until the following winter, after the spring break from hell and after the grueling summer and cool fall brings the snow again and Eddie Munson is a menace in his life. He’s by far the most energetic person that he’s ever been friends with, all touches and open affection, it’s almost too easy to fall for him.
Eddie is nosy as hell and of course it’s him that finds the collection of snow globes.
“What’s this?” Eddie’s voice echoes from down the hall and it takes Steve a few seconds to process where his voice is coming from before he’s rushing down the hall and into the unused guest room.
Along the left wall, there’s a shelf that stretches from wall-to-wall filled with snow globes.
Embarrassment shoots through him, and he shrugs. “…snow globes.” he explains badly, wincing when Eddie turns towards him with an unimpressed look. It quickly morphs into concern because for some reason, Steve’s started tearing up and once the tears start they don’t stop.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Eddie soothes, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, sweet thing.”
And the thing is, Steve does want to explain. Suddenly overcome with the urge to spill everything, in fact. So he does. He tells Eddie about his mom and dad refusing to let him play in the snow, the one time he got caught and got spanked for it, the snow globes, the fear of being bad at playing in the snow, still desperately wanting to despite it.
Through it all, Eddie holds him and listens. He hums occasionally to acknowledge what Steve is saying, but never interrupts him, for which Steve is glad because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to continue if he was stopped for any reason.
At the end of it, when Steve’s tears have dried, and they’re curled up in a pile of blankets on the couch, Eddie vows to teach him out to play in the snow. How to make a snow angel, a snowman, an igloo, a snowball — everything. He whispers these promises and plans into his ear, their hands intertwined where they lay on Steve’s lap.
And he follows through. With everything.
And the next time the kids beg him to play, he plays his part and says no, because he’s still anxious he’s going to do it wrong, Eddie throws a snowball at his back while he’s busy arguing with Dustin. And silence falls over everyone, waiting for Steve’s next move. Because he’s never given in, and no one’s ever pushed their luck like that.
Steve turns towards Eddie, narrowing his eyes at him.
“Oh, it’s on, Munson.”
The kids cheer and then it’s chaos of snowballs being lobbed at one another.
Later, when everyone is warming up with hot cocoa, and Steve is curled into Eddie’s side with a blanket tossed over their laps, Steve knows he’s never been happier to have met Eddie, who taught him how to play in the snow.
“Thank you,” Steve whispers to Eddie, who hums curiously, lazily looking at him from the corner of his eye. “For teaching me how to play in the snow.”
“Always, Stevie. I’ll always help you.”
And it sounds like a promise.
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PerthChimon & Succeeding Together
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Quite a few good lines came out of Chimon’s graduation but this one from Chimon is the one that most sticks with me.
A lot of fanservice tends to take the form of caricatures of romance — faux love confessions or proposals or jealousy. It’s a game the actors are playing with each other and with us (for hopefully mutual enjoyment). I typically am more moved by some of the quiet background stuff (like little moments in Safe House or Brands) than the on stage moments set to the soundtrack of an audience’s delight.
But this line from Chimon is why at its heart I really love branded pairs when both members are fully bought in. Perth and Chimon each have spoken about how seriously they took the decision to work together. Chimon didn’t think he would ever do BL. Perth was only willing to consider it if he had the right partner. Perth also had significant past anxiety from his LBC experience to overcome. Both have seen first-hand how being in a pair can destroy a friendship (via O&N).
Because they had known each other for many years, albeit distantly, and because they trusted each other’s work ethic and appreciated each other’s talent, they agreed to this partnership. They decided that they are going to elevate each other, bringing their careers to a whole new level beyond what they could have achieved alone. And they’re already starting to see the fruits of that as they get to witness their faces on billboards, headline a major GMMTV fan event, and look forward to another series next year (shhh I’m choosing to believe this, they are not being subtle!!).
They told each other “from the beginning” that they’re going to “go together” in the “same direction”. They genuinely seem bought in on that — instead of looking for solo fame, they are working together to reach shared career goals. And that means when they feel nervous or shy or overwhelmed, they know they have someone next to them who’s a “safe zone”, who will catch them if they fall, take away some part of the pressure of the spotlight, or be the one to start dancing first when they’re scared to.
That commitment to true partnership is what I find the most touching of all they might do or say.
“Let’s succeed together”
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dollsuguru · 2 months
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you know what
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riinzler · 1 month
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Rinzler headcanons? (Leaving this open to gush about anything you want.)
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i’m gonna use this opportunity to talk abt rinzler’s dynamic with the black guards/other occupation personnel and how security programs differ from other program types 👍
despite primarily being isolated simply by the nature of his job and his general reputation, rinzler does semi regularly interact with other programs working under clu (much to his annoyance and their fear lmao). being clu’s right hand gives rinzler a considerable task list beyond being just clu’s bodyguard, being in the games, and hunting down clu’s enemies. he still does security work while also helping strategize troop movements when asked and generally making things run as smoothly as they can for any upcoming plans.
i say all that to mean that he isn’t exclusively a one man show all the time as much as he’d like to be. things between him and the programs in the occupation are very strained to put it nicely but there’s an understanding there that if he needs you to do something he will tell you, and he doesn’t work with programs who aren’t higher ranking within their sector. if you aren’t the boss he has no business with you. the blackguards are a little different because dyson is the head of them and is usually stationed in argon, so the ones we see in legacy, (ESPECIALLY around clu) are guards hand picked by rinzler to be clu’s security team. they aren’t always around as rinzler is clu’s only full time guard and the only one allowed with him into certain areas tho
the fact that rinzler picks guards for specific assignments has lead to certain blackguards trying to directly interact with rinzler to try to get into his good graces which he…..doesn’t appreciate. he is IMMUNE to flattery 🖐 it was more of an issue when rinzler was told he had to select a team of guards to go with him on certain security jobs because a bunch of programs wanted a spot but there was never any real chance for them tbh b/c by the time clu put his foot down on rinzler putting together team he already had programs in mind.
rinz ended up picking reeve nord and klax (trons team from uprising) as they were actually the only security programs in the candidates lists and already had skill sets he was looking for. he trained em extensively and now brings them with him when he needs (is required) to bring backup
the thing is abt security programs, esp for more specialized ones like rinzler and dyson, is that the way they connect to the system and the ppl around them is intrinsically different then other types of programs. rinzler is particular is noteworthy for having a very different connection to the grid, both because he was made by alan and because he’s from the encom system. it’s not that they are more connected to the grid and more that they are connected to an aspect of it that other programs aren’t, hince how they are able to scan for footsteps and preform deeper scans of both programs and environments at all. (i do think non security programs can scan each other, but it’s very very surface level in comparison) security programs can also track programs by code signature, but it’s a difficult process that also involves the security program already being familiar with who their trying to track
to a degree it also effects their senses, as shown by dyson being able to sus beck out in that one ep. i imagine both dyson and rinzler have very very good hearing, something that’s both a blessing and a curse. for rinzler it’s main drawback is that he’s already a very light sleeper and being able to hear things that well when your trying to get some sleep means he’s constantly being woken up, which isn’t help by the other security protocols he has.
rinzler has security protocols that are unique to him (at least in some capacity) courtesy of his repurposing, flynn, and once again just by the nature of him being from a dif system. the main one and the one that other security programs also have to an extent is that he’s never truly fully offline, some part of his system is always running in the background and scanning for proximity alerts so he can’t be snuck up on when he’s asleep. rinzler’s system is just a bit more hyperactive about it by the nature of him Being The Way He Is.
similarly to that if rinzler gets injured while out and about the same section of his system that preforms those scans is able to ‘take over’ and lead him back to clu via clu’s code signature for repair. if clu can’t be found for whatever reason it’ll default to the next program in his internal hierarchy. it’s like sleepwalking more or less, with him going straight towards his destination and only pausing if someone comes close enough for him to need to defend himself. memories between him being injured to being reactivated are fuzzy at best, with rinzler not really being able to recall things because he wasn’t really online/aware during the trip. just as an example yk that scene in legacy where qurroa loses her arm and goes offline?? for rinzler it wouldn’t have been taken him out completely, as an aspect of his self preservation protocols he has regeneration (to a degree) that would’ve kept the wound from getting worse until he found clu/someone to repair him
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sagesolsticewrites · 2 years
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hi sageykinz !!!!! i was craving some austin x reader x olivia content & then i was like i know the exact person for the job!
so i have 2 for ya (if u want!)
#5 - “I hate Christmas shopping.” - “I love Christmas shopping!” (i thought this would be cute with austin vs olivia lol)
& ice skating!! (i’m imagining austin/reader/olivia r just vvvv attracted to each other here 👀)
but do whatever u want, i just need some trio magic 😭
- @burninlovebutler 😘😘
MEL MY BELOVED YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS REQUEST MADE ME 🥹
being poly myself I love love lovee writing poly x reader fics 🥰
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(actually putting these under a cut bc they ended up much, much longer that I’d anticipated oops 😂)
Send me drabble prompts!
5.) “I hate Christmas shopping” / “I love Christmas shopping!”
You skipped into the kitchen, humming happily as you checked the final few things off your list.
“What’s got you so happy, sweetheart?” Austin asked from the kitchen table where he and your girlfriend were sitting.
“Oh nothing,” you smiled, “Just got all my Christmas shopping done. It feels good to check things off the to-do list. Hey, how’s your Christmas shopping going, my loves? I know you two have been busy lately,” you say, genuine sympathy in your eyes.
They very casually assure you that their Christmas shopping is mostly done, just one or two small things they need to get for their other friends, and you nod, “Well, that’s good. As long as you two remember to take some time for yourselves, please? I don’t want you stressing yourselves out just for a little holiday.”
Austin and Olivia both assure you they’re fine, and you vanish back into your room to finish wrapping presents for your family.
As soon as you’re gone, they lock eyes.
“I haven’t had time to go Christmas shopping.”
“Me neither.”
“I hate Christmas shopping!”
“I love Christmas shopping!”
“Wait, what?” They say in unison.
“How can you hate Christmas shopping?! Getting to pick out the perfect gift for someone you love, everyone around you in the holiday spirit..”
“See, Liv, you just listed the reasons I don’t like it,” Austin says with a chuckle, “There’s so much pressure to choose an absolutely perfect gift, and there’s so many people, and everyone’s stressed out, it’s just… it’s a lot.”
Olivia thinks for a moment, then it hits her. “Hey, what if we just did it together?”
“Did… what together?”
“Christmas shopping, silly! We’ll split off to get each other gifts if we need to, but we can do the rest of the shopping together, and maybe it’ll be at least a little more enjoyable for you that way?”
Austin beams at his girlfriend. “I’d love that. I can’t believe we didn’t think of that before.”
“Come on, Aus, you know I’m the one with the brains in this relationship,” Liv teases, leaning over to give him a quick peck so he knows she doesn’t mean it.
“Sweetheart, I love you, but I think we both know who actually has the brains in this relationship,” Austin laughs, already grabbing his coat.
“Y/N,” they both chorus in unison.
Austin heads down the hall as Olivia gets her coat and shoes, knocking on your door before opening it just a crack to peek inside. “Sweetheart, Liv and I are gonna head out to do some last-minute shopping, are you gonna be okay here?”
You look up from the partially wrapped box, hastily taping a corner down before turning your full attention to your boyfriend. “Oh yeah, of course! Have fun and be safe,” you remind him, coming over to the door to give him a kiss before he leaves. You poke your head out into the hall and call towards Olivia, “Have fun babe, be safe!”, making sure to blow her a kiss, too.
“We will!” she calls back, and both you and Austin can hear the smile in her voice.
“Oh, and,” you place a hand on Austin’s arm, gently stopping him as he starts to walk away, “Would you mind picking up something for dinner on the way home? I don’t feel like cooking tonight,” you ask, almost apologetically.
“Of course sweetheart,” he assures you with a nod as he heads back down the hall, “We’ll let you know when we’re on our way home!”
At the mall, Austin does okay for the most part. It’s much better with Liv there than if he was alone, but eventually all the hustle and bustle of the shoppers and the tinny Christmas carols being piped through the mall speakers start to get to him, and he starts getting antsy. He really wants to go home, but he tries to hide it when Liv decides she wants to stop by one of the candle stores to see if they can find anything after they’ve bought all the gifts they need.
They’ve only been in there for a few minutes, however, when she starts picking up on his less-than-cheery mood, and finally decides it’s time to go home.
“I’m sorry that took so long,” she says as they get in the car, gifts securely tucked away in the trunk, “But it wasn’t too bad, was it?”
Austin gives her a soft smile, “No, it wasn’t that bad. Though it was definitely just because you were there.”
“Well, I’m happy I could be of service,” she teases.
On the way home they stop at your favorite restaurant and bring home a veritable feast — Christmas shopping apparently works up an appetite.
Gifts securely hidden away, they spend the rest of that night cuddling with you on the couch, eating dinner and watching all the cheesy Christmas movies you want.
17.) Ice Skating 🥰
“How are you so good at this?” Austin said, exchanging surprised glances with Olivia as they took in the way you glided across the ice like it was nothing.
Sure, you had sounded incredibly excited when you suggested an ice skating date that weekend, but neither of your partners had expected… this.
“I dunno,” you shrugged, facing them with a grin as you turned smoothly into a backwards glide on the less crowded portion of the rink. “I grew up with ice skating lessons and went to open skate at the rink back home pretty much every weekend when I was a kid. Guess some of it just stuck with me.”
Slowing down, you moved so you were skating alongside your partners, assessing how they were doing so far. Olivia was doing fairly well, she was confident enough to move away from the wall lining the ice a bit, but Austin… sweet California born-and-raised Austin was struggling, clinging to the wall for support, though he was clearly trying to make it seem like he was against the wall on purpose.
Exchanging amused glances with your girlfriend, you moved so you were skating between them, linking hands so both of them had support from you.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got you Aus,” you teased gently, adding a squeeze of your hand so he knew you were being genuine, that you would be there if he needed you.
“Thank you, sweetheart, I appreciate it,” he laughed, returning the squeeze, which soon turned into a chain of hand squeezes between the three of you as you tried to tease each other while keeping your balance, eventually ending with the three of you collapsing into giggles as you glided aimlessly along the wall.
Soon, though, you could sense that both Austin and Olivia were getting tired, and you suggested stopping for the day and grabbing some hot chocolate at the stand nearby to warm up. They took your suggestion gratefully, and you soon found yourself squashed between them on a bench just outside the rink, each of you holding a cup of steaming hot chocolate.
“This was fun, baby,” Olivia said, tucking a stray wisp of hair back into your hat from where it had escaped, “Thank you for suggesting it.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smiled, leaning to rest your head oh her shoulder, her faux-fur lined hood proving a more than satisfactory pillow.
Your head shot right back up, however, as you perked up seeing the Zamboni come out to clean up the ice. You were hit with a sudden longing to get back out onto the rink. It had been so long since you’d skated on glass-smooth ice…
Your excitement isn’t lost on your partners, as Austin nudges your shoulder with a knowing smile.
“Go on, get back out there. I know you want to.”
You turn to see Olivia giving you a grin matching Austin’s, and she takes your hot chocolate from your hands gently. “Go ahead sweetheart, give us a show,” she teases gently.
You feel your face heat up, a sweet, warm feeling that has nothing to do with the hot chocolate spreading throughout your body as you realize just how easily your partners can read you.
“Fine, fine, if you insist,” you playfully sigh, quickly slipping back into your skates and making your way back to the ice.
It’s late, and everyone else seems to have left for the evening. It’s just the three of you left as you step onto the ice and begin to glide, unable to stop a smile spreading across your face at how your movements are that much smoother and cleaner on recently swept ice. You feel Austin and Olivia’s eyes on you, and you let out a laugh as you hear them whooping and cheering for you as if you’re an Olympic skater. You warm up with a few laps around the rink, playfully blowing kisses to them every time you pass.
You decide to show off for them a little by doing a few of the jumps you remember from when you were younger, and though you don’t quite stick the landing on all of them, you know Austin and a Olivia are incredibly impressed, if their dropped jaws are anything to go off of.
Eventually you come off the ice, beaming, a rosy glow in your cheeks.
Your partners come to meet you, Olivia still holding your abandoned hot chocolate.
“So that was…” Austin begins, somewhat speechless.
“Incredible!” Olivia shrieks as you untie your rented skates and slip back into your winter boots. “Babe, how come you never told us you could do that?”
You shrug shyly, “I guess it just never came up?”
“Well we definitely need to go ice skating more often,” Austin says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close as you make your way back to the car, “Especially if we’re gonna get a show like that every time.”
You feel your face heat up even more as the two of them shower you with praise, and you decide to turn the attention back to them.
“Well I’m just glad I got to spend today with my two favorite people in the world,” you say, squeezing their hands clasped in yours, “I love you guys.”
“We love you, too,” they murmur, and as snow begins to fall on a moonlit winter night, you pull each of them in for a sweet kiss, joy filling your chest with warmth.
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itspileofgoodthings · 2 years
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nothing more beautiful or powerful to see onscreen than when the writers’ vision of a character doesn’t quite match the actor’s interpretation but the contrast doesn’t create contradiction but instant layers and humanity.
#this is about a) Ben Solo b) Steve Harrington#you can tell the writers wrote Steve as a much flatter character—a one note bully. The guy who sleeps with Nancy#The school jock with the 80’s hair#And you can tell Joe Keery was like ‘what if he really liked her what if he was really trying’#but it’s his eyes vs the writers’ words and that creates such an instant complexity#because human beings DO work like that. they say the thing (most of the time) that context demands#and sometimes there isn’t anything else going on but sometimes there is#Steve is a very thinly drawn character tbh in terms of writing#he has no backstory he doesn’t have a context. He began the story very lazily written but then those pieces start to make sense#In the light of how Keery plays it#Yeah where ARE his parents. Why does he actually have such few friends. Why is that the ‘bully’ keeps getting beat up#and that sets him up for the journey that he goes on. A kid who wants better than the role he’s in in high school and in life#he really is like ‘no I want better I want better than this’#and his privilege is so precarious you know he will fall and he does and his mistakes are so clear they will cost him almost everything#and that is so compelling#Anyway ben solo is pretty much all Adam. You know JJ and co. Were just like#‘What if …. We had a villain …… whose name was KYLO REN’#nerd high fives#They did nothing#Adam’s eyes stature face voice MOVEMENT??? Everything#He literally took it away from them and made his own story#the limitations of the writers only adding to the truth of it all
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whiskeyswifty · 2 years
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PLEASE tell me more about the indie sleaze era i beseech you
I’ve put off answering this cuz it’s a really hard time period to distill down to a tumblr answer, but I’ll tell you a few nuggets that hopefully will paint a clearer picture for you.
1. The entire point was looking and acting like you didn’t care, which was easiest to do if you were rich. If you look at photos of participants, you might say oh god, the style was AWFUL. Who wears caked on glitter eye shadow with sweaty bangs and glasses with no lenses and a stained polyester neon green American apparel dress? It was intentionally awful, and intentionally cheap and sweaty looking. The idea was you were hot not cuz you were conventionally pretty, but cuz you were fun! And fun people were relaxed people who didn’t give a shit about looking put together. Fun people are also people who party a lot, and if you wear shitty clothes that look thrown together, with a drop of irony cuz you again, don’t give a shit, and are always sweaty with lazily applied makeup, you look like you’re a good time. So most visible figures of the indie sleaze scene were two kinds of people who could achieve this: rich people who could afford to look sweaty and rumpled and trashy and party all the time (Alexa Chung, Chloe Sevigny, Olsen twins, lots of It Girl models), and young musicians who were happy being broke at a basement party in Brooklyn, cuz they genuinely didn’t give a shit and genuinely liked to party. It also coincided with the 2008 recession so affordability for almost everything went out the window.
2. The music at the time can be characterized similarly. It was messy and clanging and sloppy and unpolished. Due to everyone being broke, a lot of musicians leaned heavily on Synthesizers because of how cheap they were compared to how infinite their sound output could be. So you’ll find a lot of electro-punk sounding stuff, which to a young person now wouldn’t sound that groundbreaking but it was back then. The more rough and ready it was, like you made it yourself in your apartment, the more indie sleaze it was. And this sounds counterintuitive, but it was meant to also sound unpleasant. Singing slightly off beat or pace with the melody, or over processing your voice so it sounds almost like you blew the mic, distorting your voice, bad harmonies or just bad singing lol, sounds that were jarring like cow bells and harsh snares and other odd instruments that make for a syncopated sound. Like the aesthetic, intentionally “bad” to push the boundaries of what is actually important when it comes to making music and to push back against the glossy elitist pop of the 2000s. (also funny to see all the glitch haters pop up recently cuz if you can’t handle anything that isn’t glossy clean pop, you’d have HATED indie sleaze lmaoooooooo)
3. I think in general it also helps to contextualize it with the platforms it was “performed” on, if you will. Facebook was the primary place, albums in particular. Not sure of your age, anon, but in the late 2000s/early2010s, people would run around with digital cameras like a Nikon Coolpix, dump the memory card onto their computer, via iPhoto usually, and upload an album of those photos. Typically a party, a weekend, a trip, what have you. (It’s funny cuz people are doing that now with the “photo dump” on IG but time is a flat circle and humanity always gravitate towards the same habits if allowed lmao) This timeline of performance is important because it’s what made indie sleaze, and all pre-social media movements, so ephemeral and very much “you had to be there.” At the indie sleaze party or concert, in whatever basement or Brooklyn warehouse or whatever you were in, you took photos yes. But due to the memory card upload process, those photos could only be seen days later. So if you weren’t hanging out with the right people, in the right places, you couldn’t access the movement because by the time you knew about the events, they were over. That ephemeral nature also made it exclusive. Truly, in a literal sense, if you knew you knew, and if you didn’t, you didn’t.
4. The term indie sleaze actually didn’t exist until like last year. At the time, there was little delineation between “indie sleeze” and “twee” and whatever else. It was all just called “hipster” style. Only recently, as always is the case with documenting recent histories, have we had enough distance to pull from references and create a name for it. And start to separate the twee from the punk from the indie sleaze. i can do it now but I couldn’t do it back then.
For a visual, the indie sleaze Instagram is a good recourse, as well as indie sleaze playlists on Spotify. Some of them are, like, wrong lol, but if you see a lot of sleigh bells, yeah yeah yeahs, LCD soundsystem, metric, Beth ditto, the kills, bloc party, MIA, Los campesinos, MGMT, Santigold, Grizzly Bear, early grimes, crystal castles, ratatat, justice, and Girltalk (I’m sorry in advance) then you’re in the right place.
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cream-and-tea · 1 year
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I think you might have talked about this before, but #3 for Pallas, for the pride month themed oc asks?
3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?
oooo ok so i think i’ve posted an excerpt from the actual book about Pallas Gender Stuff (tldr is they got the experience of being blissfully ignorant to the concept of gender as a kid until they became Aware it was a capital-C Concept and then everything felt wrong) so i wanna ramble a bit about their aro-aceness since i haven’t really gotten the opportunity to do that yet lol.
i don’t think it was something they always knew necessarily, but especially their lack of romantic attraction was always something they were vaguely aware of. when they were really little they were definitely a kid that went ‘ewwww’ and made a face whenever anyone talked about kissing. in general they just never found romance interesting in the way they found basically everything else interesting. like. why do these characters keep staring at each other can we get back to politics please this has literally nothing to do with the plot why is it important this is so boring. i think they were in the boat of fully thinking that romance and being horny were things made up in stories to add drama until people around them started experiencing it, which is when the Realization hit and they actual started to question that aspect of their identity.
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idk why or how it took me so long to realize this but i think tiktok helped me find the thing that stops me from ever attempting suicide or anything, and funny enough its one of the same thing that leads me to suicidal ideation: obstacles. big or little.
“there are safety doors on that subway station close to home”, that’s an obstacle, i’d have to go to a different station. a friend called or showed up at the very right moment, it’s not that “oh someone cares”, it actually just puts up an obstacle. “oh i don’t have any “good ropes” at home”, having to ever go buy one? an obstacle. like it’s silly but that’s literally it… if dying requires as much effort or more effort than it’d take to figure shit out or requires actual PLANNING..? nah thanks lmao
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spirirsstuff · 1 year
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ughhhh why can’t songs be good the entire way through
#randomrambles#all three of the ones i listened two had good parts but then also bad parts#like cut out the entirety of the key change at the end of the first one#cut out the first half of the chorus of the second one#and cut out the entire chorus of the last one#literally just make the song good the whole time#i think i would be better at writing music than the people who wrote these songs /hj#literally just make the pieces w o r k t o g e t h e r#like yeah i get that they technically work together but the shift isn’t natural feeling#shift better like in the good songs#literally the weird ass drum rhythms in the one to transition it works because it evens out later and actually does a decent job#the big energetic trumpet bridge in the one works well because it’s an energetic song#but really it’s not the background that doesn’t work as a transition. they work fine in the songs. it’s the vocals#(from here on i talk about the second two because the first is now irrelevant)#the vocals in the second song don’t make a lot of sense in the first half of the chorus and to top it off the rhythm doesn’t seem natural#in the second one the notes just don’t work that well together. they don’t sound great in the sequence they’re in#there are definitely better notes that could have worked really well there.#fuck it. tomorrow ima make the songs better because i don’t have anything better to do#anyways if you for some reason read this whole wall of tags im sorry#im just very passionate about ranting about music shit
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ja3yun · 1 month
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please be real | p.js
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ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3
A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.
Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.
Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.
“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.
“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…
Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.
You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.
“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”
“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 
You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 
This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 
Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”
Jay. Park Jongseong.
It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.
Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.
It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.
But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.
And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.
Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.
Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.
The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.
His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.
“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.
As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.
Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.
Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.
“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.
With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 
You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.
As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 
He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.
As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.
With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.
Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.
An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.
Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.
As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.
He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.
"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.
Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.
"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.
He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.
It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.
Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”
“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.
Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.
"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.
His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.
With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.
"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.
Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.
You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.
“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.
"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.
You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 
With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.
"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."
Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.
But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.
Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.
Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.
You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.
_____
Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.
You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.
It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.
Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.
As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.
You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.
As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.
Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.
Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.
“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.
Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.
You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.
Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.
As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.
His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.
"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.
“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.
Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 
He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.
But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.
“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”
Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 
"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 
His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.
With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.
Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.
You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 
Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.
You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.
“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.
_____
Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.
Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 
Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?
He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.
As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.
Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 
Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.
“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.
You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 
All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.
He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.
The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.
Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.
As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.
"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."
You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.
The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 
All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”
“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.
"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."
You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.
But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.
You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.
“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.
Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”
It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 
“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”
Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.
“That’s okay.”
“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?
"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"
Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.
But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."
You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.
"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?
Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.
So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.
"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.
In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 
"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.
"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.
Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.
You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.
His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.
You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.
It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.
Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 
The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 
You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.
He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.
Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.
"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.
With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.
Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.
"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.
With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.
You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.
You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.
As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.
Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.
“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.
Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.
But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.
“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.
“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.
Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”
“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.
Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.
With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.
His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.
"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 
Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.
"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"
You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."
Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.
"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."
Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.
"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.
The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 
Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”
You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.
You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."
With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."
As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.
Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.
His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."
In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."
Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.
With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.
Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.
“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.
After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.
Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.
As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.
With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.
In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 
His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.
After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 
But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.
He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.
“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.
You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”
“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.
The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 
Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.
You need one another to extinguish the fire.
“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.
“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 
Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.
His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 
He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.
“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”
He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 
You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.
“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.
Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.
“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.
Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.
“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.
So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.
Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”
You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.
“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.
So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.
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actiniumwrites · 1 year
Text
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
synopsis: how they react when they find out you’ve never had a date on valentine’s day
based on the prompt: “you’ve never had a valentine’s date?”
characters: diluc, kaeya, mona, zhongli, xiao, kujou sara, kazuha, itto, tighnari, cyno, and childe x gn! reader (separately)
warnings: fluff, a bit of angst in some of them, these are meant to be pre-relationship but you can interpret them how you want
notes: releasing this a day early because i know i’ll forget about it tomorrow lmao. also i was gonna do more for this than just a bullet scenario, but then i realized there was only like a week left until valentine’s when i wrote this so i couldn’t do anything big 😭 but i did really like this prompt so enjoy!
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diluc:
his facial expression contorts into one of confusion as he wipes the inside of the glass in his hand
you’re sitting in front of him, legs crossed one over the other as they dangle over the barstool you’re on. your head rests in your hand innocently, as if what you had just said hadn’t affected you at all
you’ve never had a valentine’s date?
no. diluc just can’t accept it, at least, that’s what he decides as he puts the glass down and starts to remove his apron
before you know it, his hands are gripping yours, pulling you out the door and into the now sunset painted city you called your home
valentine’s wasn’t over yet, and diluc was sure as hell going to make sure you got that date
kaeya:
he laughs, his smile wide and his eyes teasing as he blinks through his tears
but then he sees the way you grimace and your eyes look anywhere but at him. he sees a sense nervousness and embarrassment wash over every inch of your face
he feels awful
kaeya hadn’t meant anything bad by his laughter. truthfully, he thought you were joking with him because, how could someone so utterly beautiful in every which way, someone so full of life, someone so perfect never have been asked on a date on valentines?
you were all he had ever wanted and more, and yet you weren’t even his
apologies come flying out of his mouth for a solid two minutes before you assure him it’s okay and, as expected, that stupid smirk appears on his face again
his hand is latching onto yours as he leans in close, asking you to join him on a date so he could make it up to you
and although he seems rather nonchalant on the outside, his heart is beating rapidly on the inside, begging you to accept so he could finally make you his
mona:
her mouth falls open at the sound of your response to the question
then it shuts…and then it opens again
meanwhile, you have to keep yourself from laughing too hard because of the way she currently resembles a fish
she huffs as she ignores your muffled laughter and tosses the pen she had been writing with to the side and gathers her papers on her desk
you’re still laughing, but her face is as serious and determined as ever
and before you know it, you were getting dragged out of her room and into yours. and your best friend tells you to get ready, as glammed up or as comfortable as you want
she was going to take you out on the best damn date of your life and maybe, just maybe, finally confess her feelings to you
zhongli:
his eyes widen in shock and he immediately sets his tea down to clasp his hands together
he’s silent, thinking carefully about what to say to your response to his question. honestly, he looks like someone had just murdered his grandma
deep down, he wants to ask why
but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel bad never having a date on valentine’s
his hand aches to reach for yours and hold it tight in his. secure it with all his adoration and love for you, make you realize he’d do anything to take you on a date — valentines or otherwise
slowly, his eyes reach back up to meet yours and he stands, unclasping his hands and extending one out for you to hold
“if you do not mind, i would like to have the pleasure of being your first valentine’s date. and, perhaps if you enjoy it, you would consider allowing me to take you out again.”
xiao:
he scoffs — why were you even telling him this anyway? he didn’t even like valentine’s day so what does this have to do with him?
yet, he doesn’t miss the way his heart seems to skip a beat before pounding furiously against his chest
was he angry? upset? emotional? sad? he wasn’t sure but, whatever it was, it was not a good feeling
he masks whatever emotion it was and displays the most neutral expression he could come up with
because, no, xiao is not jealous and most definitely does not care
yet, as much as the adeptus claimed to hate valentine’s day, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit interested if it means he gets to spend the day with you
his eyes avoid yours and a small blush crosses his face as he offers a proposition:
“if you would like…maybe you could spend the day with me?”
kujou sara:
her arms cross as she leans sideways against the wall, staring directly at you as she scoffs
“who wouldn’t want to take you out on a date?”
shit
the general definitely did not mean to say that out loud
suddenly, she’s standing upright and stuttering left and right as you stand in front of her in shock
her hands are waving in front of her face sporadically as she desperately tries to explain herself
but then your silence turns into laughter and it feels like the world around her completely stops as you reassure her that it’s okay and that you’re actually quite flattered
embarrassed as she is, sara sighs and stares at anywhere but you, “i know it’s your favorite, so meet me at uyuu restaurant at 7 tonight. please don’t make me regret this.”
kazuha:
he offers a gentle smile and covers your hand in his own
“that’s okay, neither have i.”
you’re quick to ask him why, but he’s quick enough to ask you the same
you’re dumbfounded, but argue that you asked him first. and he explains, saying that he’s always preferred the wind and spending his time in nature rather than out on silly dates
and your eyes loose their shine a little, not only upset because you have to talk about the fact that no one had ever asked you on a valentine’s day before, but also because it meant you likely wouldn’t have the chance to ever go out with him
and he notices, because that’s just how kazuha is
“just because i said i don’t prefer to go on dates, doesn’t mean i don’t enjoy them. in fact, i would greatly appreciate it if you would join me at chinju forest later today. perhaps we could have a picnic and enjoy the scenery together?”
itto:
he gasps loudly, almost as if he’s in a horror movie and the killer just found him
it scares you at first, thinking that his sudden expression was not in reaction to your response, but then you realize itto was in fact reacting to you
it’s just his dramatic nature
his hand is over his heart and his eyes are shut, acting as if he’s in pain
“oh no! no, no, no! this just won’t do!”
and you laugh whole heartedly at him. a smile irresistibly tugs at your lips and your eyes are all wrinkled
and when you recover, itto’s looking at you with the brightest, most fondest look you think you’ve ever seen in your life
and it hits you: he was trying to make you laugh so that you wouldn’t feel bad
and then he’s all serious, but you can tell he’s really just nervous, “uh, hey listen, i can take you out…but only if you want! not that you have to or anything — no, no that would be uh…yeah!”
tighnari:
“valentine’s day is a rather trivial holiday. there’s no need to be so upset about never having had a date.”
your eyes fall to your hands as he says those words. not that he sees of course, seeing as he’s turned around at his desk, writing away at some papers
“yeah, no! i get it, you’re right,” you say. but your words don’t match your tone, and you hate how quick tighnari is to pick up on it
he sighs and turns around, still fiddling with the pen in his hand, but you don’t meet his eyes
you knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way, that’s just who he is, but you couldn’t help the hurt you felt when he spoke
and then he sighs again. although, this time a small, but genuine, smile graces his expression, “if a date is what will make you happy, then i would happily take some time off from work.”
cyno:
he’s hesitant to respond
not because he finds it appalling that you’ve never had a date on valentine’s day, but because he’s simply not well versed in relationships or emotional comfort in general
his eyes stay focused on the ground and his fingers tighten against the barrel of his polearm
he’s so quiet that you’re not even sure he heard your response
and he continues to think for a few more moments before huffing and just saying everything outright
overthinking wasn’t the mahamatra’s style
so he asks you out to dinner that night. not out of pity either, just simply because that’s what cyno wanted
sure he wasn’t a fan of the holiday, but his feelings for you are certainly enough to make him want to celebrate it
childe:
his hand is intertwined with yours as you walk together down the streets of liyue
“wait so, you’ve never had a valentine’s date before? as in, this is literally your first one ever?”
you don’t respond. instead, you stare at the buildings around you and all the other couples adorning the different restaurants and gift shops
childe isn’t stupid. he sees the way you get uncomfortable and instantly regrets making the comment
he speaks softly, “i’m honored, you know? besides, you couldn’t get a better first date than me.”
you’re slapping his arm in a matter of seconds, trying to hold back your laugh, but acting angry nonetheless
but then you’re laughing together and you realize, yeah, it really couldn’t get any better than him
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miserycanary · 2 months
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MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩
♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all
tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff
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"Sir? Sir!”
Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”
You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).
It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 
Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.
He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.
Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 
One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.
You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.
“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 
From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 
| The letter: 
‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 
With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’
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꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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outofbinaryspace · 2 years
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one day I’ll get off of Reddit and tumblr
But not anytime soon
Despite the constant annoyances of both
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venuslore · 6 months
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𖥔 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𖥔
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summary ; you make coriolanus feel like he's losing control.
pairing ; peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district!reader
notes ; nothing just a whole bunch of fluff honestly. and i'm not even going to lie... i loved writing this one. i don't think i've written anything as fast as i wrote this bc it truly just flew out of me. this man really has me acting up and i am so here for it.
do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.
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coriolanus snow was never one to let himself be vulnerable in the eyes of another, and for as long as you had known him there was one thing you were always certain of, he had to be in control. he depended on it. craved it. the thought alone, of everything slipping from his grasp and not going to plan, made his head swirl and his skin crawl. 
so when he met you, he began to question himself. question everything he had been working for, everything he had been fighting for, as you slowly wiggled your way into his heart. he was taken by you, and that scared him. 
you were a breath of fresh air in his carefully curated world, a burst of colour amidst the struggles of his life. your spontaneity and liveliness enchanted him, capturing his attention and leaving him craving more. he had never felt this way about anything before. 
as you sat there in the beauty of the meadow, a gentle breeze brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of the wildflowers. the sunlight streamed through the canopy of leaves above, painting a warm hue across everything it touched. the tranquillity of it all enveloped you, filling your heart with a sense of contentment.
you and coriolanus were close together on an old picnic blanket you had found, not needing any words to communicate as you took in the peacefulness. his presence alone was enough to make you feel safe and at ease.
you watch on as his fingers trail through the grass, stopping when he comes across a dandelion, and plucks it from its root, “it certainly doesn’t compare to the roses grandma’am grows.”
“some people think of them as weeds, but not me. i think they’re beautiful all the same,” you add, bringing a smile to each of your faces, and take the flower from his hands. “in some ways, i feel just like them; a weed in a world where i should be seen as more.”
coriolanus observes you as you take a closer look at the small flower, appreciating its simple beauty. the yellow, though not as vibrant as a rose, held its own charm. you don’t hold it for long before he takes it back, twirling it with his thumb and forefinger. 
he stares at the flower for a moment before reaching to brush the stem behind your ear, his fingers then lingering as he trails them along the line of your jaw, sending a surge of emotions down your spine. you smile at him, it’s all you could do. if you spoke you weren’t sure what jumbled mess was sure to spew out. 
you bring your hand up to meet his, intertwining your fingers as you lean into his touch. his eyes bore into you, taking you in, appreciating your features under the sunlight. 
“look what you’ve done to me,” he whispers, as if it were some unspoken secret. which, in your case, it was. 
intrigued by his statement, you perk up, “and what exactly is it that i’ve done to you, coriolanus snow?” 
you watch him intently as he opens his mouth to speak, a thought lingering in his mind before he stops and lets his head fall between his shoulders instead. his silence is heavy, lingering in the air between you. you can almost feel the weight of the unspoken words pressing against your skin. 
you reach out tentatively, your hand hovering just inches from his, wanting desperately to bridge the distance but afraid of intruding. the two of you have always shared a deep connection, but something feels different today. something is weighing him down, and you yearn to understand. 
as he continues to fiddle absentmindedly with a blade of grass, you can see that his mind is working overtime. thoughts and feelings swirl like a whirlwind, causing his brow to furrow and his grip on the grass to tighten. 
eventually, he looks up, his eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty. two things coriolanus liked to keep to himself. 
it’s then that you decide to break the silence. “what’s wrong, my love?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone, you know.”
he looks at you, gratitude mingling with a wisp of fear in his eyes. whatever it was bothering him, you could see that it was taking its toll, and you simply wanted to take him in your arms and kiss it all away, but you knew that that wouldn’t help. 
“i don’t know what i’m doing anymore,” he finally answers. “i feel like i’m losing track of who i am and what i want, what i’ve always wanted, the longer i’m out here.”
“things can change, coriolanus, and you don’t always have to live up to others' expectations of you. especially, your own. so long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” his gaze falls from yours once again, but you refuse to let him suffer in silence anymore. so you reach for him, gathering his face between your fingers and pull him back towards you. “is it really such a bad thing? you get to be here with me.”
“that’s exactly the problem,” he admits, and your breath hitches momentarily as you wait for him to elaborate. “you make me feel like i’m losing control.”
for so long coriolanus had been bound by societal expectations and concerned with maintaining a pristine reputation. he had become so accustomed to a life ruled by rigid schedules and strict rules, never allowing himself to deviate from the norm. 
but with you, everything changed. 
you were afraid to ask, but you knew you had to, for your own piece of mind. “is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”
he reaches to touch your face this time, your hands falling from his, and he pulls you closer towards him until your faces were merely a couple inches apart. “i have never felt so free, and yet, so scared in my life.”
“is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” you ask the question a second time, this time with more hesitancy as your voice shakes slightly. 
“it’s the best thing.” tears well up in your eyes as his words sink in. you never imagined that you could have such a profound impact on someone’s life, let alone someone as lost and conflicted as he was. “you’re my wildflower, and while i might not have been looking for you, i certainly found you where i least expected it.”
he smiles, his hands caressing your cheeks, as your heart thrums loudly in your chest, overjoyed and so full of love. leaning forward, you close the space between you, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, so full of passion that it almost envelopes you completely. 
you had brought coriolanus a sense of newfound freedom, showing him the beauty of embracing life’s uncertainties and every unpredictable moment. your spirit was infectious, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to your untamed soul. 
as he fell deeper in love with you, he realised that his heart yearned for the wildness and unpredictability you offered. he saw the vibrant world through your eyes, letting go of his inhibitions and stepping out of his comfort zone. 
you became his wildflower, a symbol of untamed beauty and unapologetic love. 
as you hold each other close, only pulling away to catch your breath, but not daring to pull away too far, coriolanus runs his thumb across your bottom lip. then, with his voice filled with tenderness and newfound appreciation, he whispers, “my wildflower.”
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