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#with no real understanding of how romance and relationships even work
seths-rogens · 9 months
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you ever just feel so sad for no reason :|
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ashfae · 9 months
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The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.
As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.
Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.
The problem is a story is only a story.
Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.
But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.
And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.
Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.
Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?
Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.
Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.
The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.
Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)
The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.
Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.
The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.
Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.
But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.
But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.
The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.
And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.
Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.
But they'll get there. So will we.
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bluexiao · 6 months
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#monsieur neuvillette’s relationship headcanons
NOTES. finally a work after months. i missed this, tbh. but hey, here’s my new husband for you. might also have a part 2 of this i feel like i haven’t written everything yet
WARNING. real identity spoilers (nothing too explicit from the current archon quest i haven’t even done it yet oops)
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NEUVILLETTE
(Before)
Before the relationship began, it took a long while for him to truly process what he had been feeling towards you—to be frank, he even thought he was getting sick (which was impossible. He never got sick.), though that thought comes to an end the moment he realizes that the effects only happen when he is around you. Only you.
He had heard of love before. Had seen love. Had read about love. Not just the platonic or familial ones, but also romance and more. And yet, he does not understand them, simply because he considers them as something someone like him would not eventually feel.
And yet, it all changed when he first saw you. Curiosity turns to admiration, and admiration turns to anxiety—which is never good; the sweating on his hands and the back of his neck, and the pressure on his chest whenever your presence comes.
He was only reminded of the term romance when he consulted Sigewinne about it.
“Does it only happen around a certain person, Monsieur?” “Monsieur, I think you are simply in love,” she says. “Humans do tend to have the same symptoms but it does not necessarily mean you are sick. It appears to me that you feel the same as well. Does their presence give you happiness?”
He did not even need to ponder over his answer. What he does ponder over is how he should deal with it. The evidence is overwhelming, and there is only one verdict. And yet, where does this lead to?
Contrary to popular belief, he will confess as soon as he is sure of his feelings. He is an honest and honorable man. He would confess his feelings if he could, but it did take some time knowing how busy his schedule was.
The only thing that probably was able to push him to go through was the Melusines. It took them weeks to have him clear his schedule up for a nice little dinner date that they had planned and suggested to the Monsieur.
“Recently, I have come to realize that I have developed a romantic interest with you, Y/n.”
“I do not intend to put pressure on you. I shall accept whatever judgment you make. I do not wish for you to change how you treat me in any way.”
“If you may… I can only ask to indulge in this meal with you for tonight. Your company eases me greatly.”
Brutally honest. It may even drive you crazy how this all seems so easy on him.
But in reality, his palms were sweating underneath his gloves and the slightly cool sensation of the utensils as he blurts out his intentions for setting up such an occasion. His heart was pounding but he could not process whether this was about how you looked especially good tonight or his nervousness with finally confessing his feelings for you.
Or maybe both. Either way, all evidence of such leads to only one thing—you.
Bonus; I do think he’ll reveal who he is first before he gets into a relationship with you but that really depends on how observant you are.
(During)
It was a surprise to him, at the very least, how he had managed to keep you as his lover despite what he lacks. He knew how he was not well-versed with “feelings” per se (just in his mind), but you, the angel that you’ve always been, chose to be with him.
The sudden change did not occur to him much, actually. But he did notice how much his mind lingers to you more often than not, and how he will end up recalling how you are now his one and only lover.
It takes time for him to adjust, but it all started with frequent conversations (much more than before), then sending flowers to your place every other day (constantly), though most of the time they’re delivered by someone else, knowing how busy he is as the Chief Justice.
Or when he started to first brush his gloved fingers to yours.
When he does something, it will be constant. (Maybe this also comes from being responsible and disciplined as shown by being the Chief Justice). All the things that he did before, he still does them now—unless you’ve told him no, of course.
He is definitely a man of his honor!!
And would always ask for your permission first before he touches your hand, or holds them, or hugs you, or kisses you.
He does like pampering and showering you with “offerings” though.
Stuff like buying your favorite flowers or trinkets once or twice a week, making sure you have enough supply of the best water out there. And even with how he always has an umbrella or parasol for you (ones he got ever since you got together; one in his office, one that’s foldable for him to carry under his coat, and one he gave to you for every time you leave the house.
Through the course of the relationship, he learned about the beauty of life, which is how he sometimes brings you flowers despite its short life. However, he still secretly prefers giving you trinkets for your hoard of gifts from him, mostly because it symbolizes his everlasting love for you. (He’s very romantic like that, even if he does not know he is)
He will also introduce every single Melusine in Fontaine. At first, it may surprise you how he knows all of their names, but it will surprise you even more the moment you realize you could do the same. If you do, he’ll love you even more (which he thought was impossible at first as he knew he already loves you very much).
The Melusines will treat you as their other parent the moment it is known amongst all of them that you’re his lover. Sigewinne, for one, would always give you a personalized gift. She would also always send you letters to ask how you are and probably be quite excited whenever you accept an invitation for a cup of tea.
Monsieur Neuvillete is not jealous, but he is possessive and territorial. It’s a dragon instinct, forgive him.
It also comes with being protective. Though he’s not feral, he would make sure to always shield you away from any harm, or anything that might take you away.
One time, he had to deal with a bunch of… shameless individuals who had tried to make a move on you, and though he has great trust on you, he cannot help but have the same self-deprecating voices in the back of his mind.
Though instinctively, he finds himself buying you trinkets or flowers again.
“Hm? You just gave me one earlier, didn’t you?” You look up with a confused look but still hold that smile that stirs butterflies in his chest.
He nodded. “The flowers reminded me of you, mon amour. I could not help but feel the urge to give it to you.”
It does not stop him from giving you offerings.
Of course, he cannot just give up on you. The ruling of whoever deserves your love and affection the most. Of course, he is at an advantage knowing that he’s already your lover.
“Is there something wrong?” You looked up to him, hearing the pitter patter of the rain outside through the taps on the windows. You had your hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing them with your palms.
“It’s nothing, mon cœur, no need to worry.” He flashes you a reassuring smile, and yet, at the back of his mind, he wondered how you could have thought to check on him. Is it perhaps the gloominess in the atmosphere?
You frown as you look at him intently, “There are times when you’d shower me gifts with a saddened look on you. I’m worried, is all.”
He stares at you then. Ah, so you noticed, he thought.
He chuckles as he shakes his head and stands right next to you. “May I?” He opens his arms and you nod and dive right into his chest. He enclosed you into an embrace, relishing the feeling of your warmth.
He kisses your forehead then. “Allow me to bask in your presence for a while.”
For short, one of the best. Definitely a 100/10.
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sunsguilt · 6 months
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SMASH OR PASS WITHOUT THE SMASH !┊ft: all nrc characters!
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warnings: none! contains: gn reader
notes: this is essentially a dateability ranking in terms of pure survival and living your best life. i love all the characters dearly, and this is just for fun!
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HEARTSLABYUL
riddle rosehearts: don’t get me started on him. hypothetically, let’s say he has a single romantical bone in his body. he would probably (definitely) want to date someone his mother would approve of, so someone who’s super studious and thinking about becoming a lawyer type of thing. even then, his mother would be the overbearing MIL stereotype, and riddle would just bend to her every whim, so it wouldn’t work. would probably divorce you if his mom said to. 
overall rating: 2/10, could be a nice cushy life if he took his penchant for memorizing rules into a lawyer profession and became a rich husband, but still the MIL…. you would end up on r/relationshipadvice within weeks, i’m afraid. 
ace trappola: he’s like a frat boy to me, honestly. I think you could be friends with him within reason, but if you actually date him… he’s the kind of guy who would pursue you and then get bored once u start dating. whoops, he had a consensual workplace relationship. he canonically ghosted his ex, guys. 
overall rating: 3/10, you would be dating a frat boy. you don’t want that for yourself, trust me, speaking from second-hand experience here. 
deuce spade: deuce is actually normal. like he’s no rich boy, but his family is respectful and his mother would adore you if he brought you home. he’s a little slow, but he’s got the spirit, y’know? 
overall rating: 6/10, very nice in-laws, very cool husband. you may end up being the primary breadwinner. 
cater diamond: with cater, it’s probably a bromance that turns into a real romance. mostly because he didn’t want to confess and ruin the whole thing you had going on together. likely a guy who needs a lot of validation from his partner. like he’ll say he hates pickles if you don’t like pickles. will not let a pickle pass his lips. will try his very hardest to convince you to do silly couple challenges.
overall rating: 8/10, he’s sooooo cute but he’s got unresolved mental instability like you wouldn’t believe. personally, i love that in a man. call me fix-it felix.
trey clover: trey is. trey. average guy whose family runs a bakery. he’s cute though!
overall rating: 5/10, he’s probably a freak in terms of intimate relations! teehee! no further comment.
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SAVANACLAW
leona kingscholar: leona is a nice guy, respectful etc. but after a while, he’s not putting the same energy into the relationship as you are. the added layer of dating a literal prince…. no matter how disregarded he is by his family, he is second in line for the throne. the pressure from that sounds crazy, i won’t lie. you might be able to ignore the pressure of him bringing you home to straight up royalty ! overall rating: 5/10, he’s so dreamy and gorjus but he wears uncle sandals. jack howl: oh he’s so bf material, like you don’t understand. him being really firm on the fact that beastmen choose a life partner? wanting to fall in love and be committed to someone until his dying day? this is Romance. he's probs a good guy to bring to the gym for support if you’re just starting to work out regularly! might accidentally push you past your limits bc he’s thinking beastmen standards and not human. overall rating: 7/10, he’s so cute and i love him, but he’s a gym bro and does daily early morning jogs and such. cannot accept it. ruggie bucchi: he’s actually another really normal guy to date! he’s shown to do anything to provide for his loved ones (bringing food home from school to provide for his friends and family). very much an acts of service guy! 
overall rating: 4/10, the chances are high that he’ll do that thing that broke dudes do when they get all touchy and hug their partner when the partner pulls out their card to pay for something. 
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OCTAVINELLE
azul ashengrotto: he would be nice to you ONLY if he had something to gain. would actually play the long game in order to sweet-talk you into signing some contract that totally screws you over forever. he is a capitalist at heart, i fear. he’s gonna get you in some get-rich-quick scheme. also, he can’t kiss and it would be weird and a lot more drool than necessary.  overall rating: 6/10, i love octopus.
jade leech: oh god. he’s like visually appealing but the longer he's talking, the worse it gets. his hobby would literally be getting your heart rate up. you’d be lucky if you don’t get high blood pressure from his desire to see your face twist in an ugly expression. he has a penchant for learning, so he’ll want to research the topic of his interest to the fullest to get the desired results.  overall rating: 3/10, the moment he’s tired of you, he’ll never speak to you again outside of a professional setting. floyd leech: he wants to have fun every day he can. which is fine, nothing wrong with that. the problem lies when he wants to rope you into it. and his idea of fun is….. questionable. he would call you up in the middle of the night and ask if you wanna go for a joyride that takes you over state lines. and you would only get like three minutes notice. he would also invite himself into your dorm and sleep in your bed. no, he’s not making the bed either, the guy canonically has to be forced into ironing his own shirt.  overall rating: 3/10, he looks like he bites unironically. would you get rabies if a humanized eel bit you?
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SCARABIA
kalim al-asim: oh he’s so sweet, but the only problem is literally the fact that he’s rich. he frequently talks about multiple attempts on his life in his youth up until the present day. if people outside of your circle found out you were with him, word would surely spread to unwanted ears, and your life would be at risk because of that immediate association.  overall rating: 6/10, a total sweetheart, but i don’t think i’d be able to eat breakfast with him without wondering if something’s in our food. jamil viper: he has too many underlying issues that include but are not limited to: an inferiority complex that exists due to his forced proximity to kalim. as much as i’d love to say i could fix him, jamil almost killed kalim. Plus, jamil is literally kalim’s servant. association with kalim = will probably die. overall rating: 5/10, he’s got issues, but he’s so cute and probably just needs that reassurance or whatever. my silly guy!
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POMEFIORE
vil schoenheit: vil is like my fav so i’d love to say that because he’s so nice and rich and pretty that he would be a perfect ten. WRONG. he’s famous. bad! what if he has crazy stans who go after you bc you’re dating him? for your own safety, you would never be able to go public with your relationship, that is if the tabloids don't get to you.  overall rating: 7/10, you’ll have to listen to him go on tangents about neige. 
rook hunt: if you’re thinking “yeah no he’s probably a safe bet, he’s rich and i could be his trophy wife/husband”, you like french people and you’re lying to yourself !!!!! ive never met a normal rich person in my life, and rook is no exception. he would know your shoe size before you even know his last name. 
overall rating: 0/10, he’s weird AND french.
epel felmier: he lives in a small town where everyone tends to know each other and their business. there’s no hiding your relationship from them. downside is, he would have a crazy inferior complex if you were taller than him. He needs to be a Man’s man, yknow??? overall rating: 6/10, he’s a good cook, an incredible one, even. if you can’t cook and you can deal with a man who desperately wants to show you how cool he is, then this is the one for you. 
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IGNIHYDE
idia shroud: he wouldn’t date, like he’s a NEET guys, i don’t see it at all. He would marry someone if it was for tax reasons, or just to tell people he isn’t bitchless. you'd just go to a courthouse real quick and pop by an ihop after.  
overall rating: 6/10, he would be an incredible overwatch carry. would bully you for sucking super hard in any type of pvp game. 
ortho shroud: he’s like a child, so he is not included! 
overall rating: 0/10, in terms of dateability, he’s silly tho
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DIASOMNIA
malleus draconia: you would be perfectly safe with him. yeah, he’s not fully clear on the norms of human society, but he treats you well! problem is, he'd be a little too obssessed and its going to very quickly turn into "he's going to keep u in this tower bc hes scared abt u dying"
overall rating: 7/10, wouldn’t you love a loser man who is obsessed with gargoyles?!  silver: objectively, the world’s most perfect man. he’s super cute and can cook! everything you would want in a man. he's also got his wacky little sitcom type family like step brothers who are Not human and a dad who is Not human but like they care for him he cares for them! 
overall rating: 9/10, no real drama and they'd probably be elated if he brought someone home.  sebek zigvolt: he would choose malleus over you every time, i’m so sorry. like “sorry babe malleus needs help shining his sword or whatever, you can start the movie without me.” realistically the only time sebek could be in a relationship is if he finds someone whos as obsessed with malleus as he is so they can be hyperfixated on him together or something. like how kpop stans marry each other, but with malleus the dragon prince. 
overall rating: 2/10, he would use you has a human dishrag to clean shoes for malleus.  lilia vanrouge: everyone loves a fictional old man, but this particular old man comes with trauma and emotional baggage spanning centuries. You can only fix-it felix your way out of so many things. he’s cute, though. 
overall rating: 4/10, canonically picks his nose, i fear.
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— ☆
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Clingy Girl
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Hi guys ♥
This is a request from here! I love writing for Ona and I missed it so here you are :)
Next one will be the end of Collide, with Leah Williamson.
Enjoy ♥
TW : None :)
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The first time you were introduced to Ona, officially, was when she arrived in Barcelona. You’ve been there for two seasons when the Catalan made her appearance in Barcelona. And the least we can say is that you were the victim of what is called a real love at first sight. At the same time, how could it be otherwise?
Ona is a real ray of sunshine in your life since her arrival, completely changing your established routine until now. And more, she even flipped your life and your world upside down. You still don’t understand how and why, but Ona quickly made you understand that your feelings were reciprocal and just two weeks after her return to Barcelona, she asked you for a date.
A second followed quickly, initiated by you this time, then a third. And your first kiss, your first moments, your first sleepless nights talking about everything and other occupations that are only yours. You quickly found yourself addicted to her, you just can’t spend a day away from her without it being torture.
You have decided to keep your relationship secret, however, including for your teammates, wishing to distinguish between your private and professional life. This doesn't prevent you from sitting next to her when traveling or sometimes being partners during workouts.
The most complicated thing though is the fact that Ona is terribly tactile. It's with everyone really and therefore with you too. She never has any gestures with you that would make think of anything other than friendship. The problem is the sensations it gives you and the constant work you have to do on yourself to not forget that you are in public.
Today, it’s a little more difficult than usual, for both of you. Ona flew a few days to Manchester to meet Leila Ouahabi and her girlfriend, one of her closest friends.
You couldn’t go with her because you had things to do for your sponsors, and needless to say, you missed her terribly. You had trouble sleeping alone and ended up miserably falling asleep in front of the television the two nights of her absence. You saw that some people imagined romance scenarios between the two Spaniards, which made you roll your eyes. The girl who posted the photos of Ona and Leila being her girlfriend, it would be more very strange if something happened between them. But it’s probably the downside of not talking about your relationship officially.
The day of her return, Ona arrives around 10:30 in Barcelona while the training starts at 12:00. Needless to say, she doesn’t have time to go home to change. But you offered to take her at the airport that’s why you find yourself in the arrivals hall of Barcelona, making the hundred steps while waiting for your girlfriend.
When she finally appears, you must refrain from jumping on her and settle for a simple hug. You briefly close your eyes and slide your face into her hair in a way that may differ from a hug between two friends, but you can’t help it. Ona's arms who tightens you against her however make you understand that it doesn't bother the young woman.
You end up releasing her reluctantly, looking greedily at her face. In your opinion, Ona has the most perfect face of creation, drawn by the gods. You still remember Ona’s amused laughter and rolling eyes when you told her, but also her cheeks that were tinged with pink. Ona seems to understand what is going on in your head, since she smiles softly and shakes her head.
"Stop" laughed the Catalan by pushing your shoulder.
"I didn’t do anything" you answer maliciously before taking her bag from her hands.
Ona always smiles when she follows you to your car and again when she sits in the passenger seat. You join her after closing your trunk and dropping her travel bag next to your stuff for training. When you find your place behind the wheel, you feel two hands grabbing by the collar of your jacket and Ona draws you against her to put a kiss on your lips.
You can only smile at her lips, putting a hand on her arm.
"I missed you" whispers Ona against your lips.
You hums for any answer at first, dropping several kisses on her lips before backing away slightly.
"I missed you too. Barcelona sucks when you’re not there"
Ona smiles at you tenderly and releases your jacket only to grab one of your hands that she imprisons between her two to put on her lap. She will not release her until the stadium, despite the different conversations you have during the journey.
Arriving at the stadium, you still exchange several kisses after checking that no one could see you before going to training. You are surprised when you feel Ona clinging to your arm and the look you cast at her must speak for you.
"What? I often do it with Aita" Ona said, shrugging her shoulders.
"If you say so" you laugh softly, laying a kiss on her head.
The smell of her shampoo tickles your nose and you must refrain from looking for her lips again. You can’t wait to go home so you can have her only for you. When Ona presented you her flight plan, you must admit that you didn't imagine that it would be necessary to give you a few hours to meet before going to training.
Ona is practically glued to you on the benches listening to Jona’s tactics for the next game. She grabs your hand again to play with your fingers under the table during the meal and you often have to remember yourself that a simple friend doesn't look at the lips of her friend with envy. When you join the changing rooms to put on your training outfits, you take advantage of Ona’s pretext that shows you something on your phone to stick to her, your hand in the hollow of her back.
"Maybe we should tell them we know and they’re anything but subtle?" whispers Claudia to the attention of Patri who walks behind you, in the company of Salma.
"No way" answers Patri "They are already like that without us knowing, imagine how they can be when they have told us about it"
The answer, said on the tone of humor, makes the other two laugh and attracts your and Ona's attention. But they quickly divert the conversation to something else and you reluctantly remove your hand from Ona’s body, letting your fingers brush against her butt in the process. The look the brunette gives you only lasts a split second, but you can’t hold back your guilty smile.
This gesture is also noticed by Patri who share a glance with Pina.
"I changed my mind" Patri whispers to Claudia, watching you laugh and tease while you change. "But we’ll have some fun before"
Patri is quick to implement her plan and quickly catches up with you both before entering the field.
"Ona, can I talk to you?" asks the Majorcan before taking a look at you and a smile. "Alone?"
"Of course" the Catalan replies curiously, briefly squeezing your hand she was holding before letting go.
You give them a smile in return and join the small group already formed by your teammates in the center of the field. You exchange a few words with Aitana and Jana, waiting your girlfriend’s return. And, when she finally appears with Patri, you can only notice her upset look and frown. It’s subtle and discreet, so others don’t notice. But you do.
Unfortunately, the coaches arrive shortly after. This doesn't allow you to try to question her to know what is going on and when your eyes cross, she simply shakes her head negatively, her eyebrows still frowned. You’re a little worried, to be honest. If you weren’t totally focused on Ona, you would have noticed the amused looks that Patri and Claudia exchange.
You cannot question Ona during the first part of the training and it's only when you have your break to drink that you can finally approach her.
"Are you all right?" you ask softly as you look at her
"Yes" simply answers Ona before putting her bottle back in the fridge.
"Ona" you call softly when you see her ready to leave
Her eyes soften a little when they crosses yours. Her silence worries you as much as her behavior and frustration that seems to increase over time.
"Later, all right?"
You nod and put the gourd in the fridge while biting your lip gently. You feel your stomach writhing under anxiety, you don’t know what it is, but it impacts Ona enough not to tell you directly. And this is probably the first time, you’re not used to your girlfriend keeping things secret between you. The worry must be visible on your face, since Ona grabs your hand, making you slightly startled. You didn’t expect her to be here, but left to train further.
"Don’t make that face" whispers Ona, completely ignorant of Patri and Claudia who are watching you with an amused smile. "Patri asked me if I thought you’d say yes if she asks you to go on a date with her, considering you’re single"
"Patri?!" you whispers too, mechanically looking for the other woman on the field.
In the meantime, she has carefully focused her attention on the stretches she has to do. Frowned, you look thoughtfully for a few seconds, trying to make sense of this information. You get along well with her obviously, but like others on the team. You never imagined a relationship other than friendly with her.
"It doesn’t make any sense" you always whisper by shifting your attention to Ona. "We were never close in that way, even before you came here and she never said or showed anything"
"Really?"
Ona's detached air doesn't deceive you and you sigh softly while rolling with your eyes.
"Of course, I would have told you otherwise"
Ona is content to respond with a vague grunt and thoughtfully bites her lip. Not being able to speak freely is frustrating, but it's obviously out of the question to go hide somewhere to talk. You stroke herhand with your thumb to draw herattention to you before speaking again.
"Don’t worry like that. I will refuse, isn't it obvious?"
"Yes" sighs softly Ona relaxing a little despite everything "It’s just that… I don’t know, I don’t like the idea"
"I understand" you assure her with a slight smile.
If you had been alone you would have taken her to you to hug her, but the whole of your team surrounds you and the fact that you held your hand like this for so long is surely strange enough. Ona gives you a light smile before releasing your hand to return to follow her exercises. Again, your exchange wasn't missed by the duo decided to test you.
Contrary to what you had imagined, Ona didn't go back to the other side of the field to resume training but stayed with you all along. You surprise her several times glaring towards Patri, and you discreetly reminded her that she isn't supposed to blame the Majorcan. It only attracted you grunts for a simple answer, but it didn't take Ona away from you. It gives you the impression of having a bodyguard, provided that a bodyguard literally sticks to you all the way.
At the end of the training, Ona is on edge and doesn't hesitate to grab you by the arm to drag you quickly to the changing rooms. You decide to shower at Ona’s, the brunette hoping to escape Patri, but the latter magically appears outside the door of the locker room when you leave.
"Hey Y/N, I have a question for you"
Patri’s tone is joyful and you see from the corner of the eye Ona darkening next to you. Her arm is literally wrapped around yours in a way that is both possessive and protective and her eyebrows are more gathered than ever.
"What’s going on?" You ask nevertheless trying to keep a neutral face.
"Are you doing something tonight? I thought we could go for a drink or something…"
"Yes she’s doing something" Ona answers in your place, pulling on your arm so that you follow her to the exit.
"Tomorrow then?"
You’ve never seen Ona so nervous before. You’re surprised not to see smoke coming out of her ears.
"Tomorrow too" Ona continues to pull at your arm. "And every other day. Come on, let’s go"
You take a few steps back under Ona's insistence while continuing to observe your interlocutor. It's at this moment that your eyes cross Patri's and you detect something other than the hope of someone who asks someone else on a date. Fun? Mischief? It flips in your head and you suddenly stop walking.
"You know" you accuse her, pointing at her.
"Know what?" Ona grumbles, not enjoying you stopping.
"Yes, I know what?" repeats Patri with a big innocent smile.
Ona ends up also understanding and also turns to face Patri. Her eyebrows are ruffled, but it seems that her annoyance is this time related to the little trick played by Patri. And Claudia, but you don’t know her betrayal yet.
"For Ona and me. That’s why you set up this ridiculous plan to ask me out" you roll your eyes shaking your head.
This makes Patri laugh, who shrugs her shoulders before teasingly putting a hand on your arm.
"Don’t denigrate yourself like that, I could very well have done it" said Patri maliciously.
"Stop" moaned Ona, putting both arms around your waist to take you away from Patri. "How did you know?"
"Everyone knows it or suspects it" laughs the Majorcan again. "We thought it would be fun to tease you before telling you."
"We?" repeats Ona with an arched eyebrow.
"Well, maybe Pina helped me to plan this"
"I hate you, both of you."
"I’ll tell Alexia" you sulk
********
"Ona" you laughs when your girlfriend take you back in the bed with her, grabbing you by a piece of your (her) t-shirt. "I’m thirsty"
It’s been a few hours since you came back from training now, you had plenty of time to shower, have dinner and… well, celebrate Ona's come back in her bedroom.
"Well, you are forbidden to leave me now"
"I never dreamed of it" you assure her while returning in bed to face her, your hand slipping delicately in her hair.
Ona doesn't wait a second to stick against you again, so close that it becomes difficult to say which part of the body belongs to whom. It's however far from disturbing you, the arms of Ona in your back caress you tenderly and her face in the hollow of your neck tickles you delicately.
"I hated this day" mumbles Ona, her lips tickling your skin making you shiver.
"Why? You came home and we’re not so bad here, are we?"
"No" agrees Ona smiling, dropping a new kiss before backing away. "But the part where I thought Patri was genuinely attracted to you, not so much"
"You know very well that I would have said no" you answer by depositing a kiss on the corner of her jaw.
There’s nothing you don’t like about her, but the definition of her jaw, you love it. Like her eyes, her smile, her abs and do not start talking about her hands and arms.
"I know" Ona replies, taking you away from the fantasies of your own girlfriend. "But still. At least now everyone seems to know you’re mine"
"It bothers me less than I could have imagined"
You know you both chose to remain secret, but now that you know the rest of the team knows, you can’t help but say it’s better that way. Ona seems to approve, even if she hums for simple answer, her lips starting to ghost the hollow of your neck.
Despite the teasing of your teammates, nothing will really change in your respective behaviors. Ona and you will continue to exchange complicit and amused looks and smiles regularly, your daily proximity will not change either. The only difference is that now, when you travel for a game, Ona doesn't hesitate to take her naps completely lying on you. And you won’t complain about that either.
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prodigal-sunlight · 7 months
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I think my favorite running theme in My Adventures With Superman is just… love.
Obviously the romance between Clark and Lois is pretty central, but I mean love of all kinds
Things like the Kents reassuring their young son that just because he isn’t theirs’ by birth doesn’t mean he isn’t family. The pride they take in his good heart and hard work. The way Ma Kent was struggling to not hate an army general for not thinking her son is the swellest guy around.
The platonic love shared by Clark and Jimmy—Jimmy knowing almost from day one that Clark isn’t human, Jimmy who obsesses over cryptids and aliens and conspiracies putting aside his own curiosity because he can tell its something Clark isn’t particularly comfortable talking about.
Mallah and The Brain’s relationship, starting out as the love of a creator and his project, turning into romantic infatuation, then the comfortable bickering of an old married couple. The fact that Mallah was the only survivor, but rather than leaving the site of trauma behind, staying to preserve his partner, and eventually creating a new body for him so even death won’t keep them apart.
How, despite the language barrier, the hologram of Superman’s biological father clearly wants nothing more than to love his son. They don’t understand each other—Superman’s father has never seen Clark’s life, has no idea how his son has lived—and Clark has been lead to believe he’s a weapon, not a refugee—but even despite that you can tell his father wants to be there. In the final moments of the last episode, he scrapes together what few English words he could pick up, begging in his son’s language for Clark to live, because that was all he’d ever wanted for the son he never got the chance to know
Kyle/Mist’s brotherly love for Siobhan/Silver Banshee, to the point of looking visibly guilty for betraying Superman when he was so willing to help. The general’s paternal love for Lois, complicated and strained by his old trauma but no less real. The love of the city’s people for the hero who will stop an armed robbery as willingly as he’ll help an old lady unload her groceries. Clark’s love for humanity, his faith that everyone deserves saving, even villains who refuse redemption again and again and again.
Every time people start fear Superman as a dangerous outsider, distrusting him because he’s different
The thing that changes minds is love
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moon-tell-me · 4 months
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Them having a crush on you...
The outsiders (separate) x GN! reader
Warnings: nothing I don't think :))
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DARRY CURTIS
It's been a reaalllyy long time since he's felt this way for anyone
So a small part of him is excited when he realizes it
But the majority of him..?
Well.. that's a different story
He's very busy with work and the family
He just doesn't have any time for love or romance
You understand ://
So it's unlikely he will do much of anything on his own
He will probably even avoid you a bit in hopes of making himself feel better
That being said, if you realize what's going on, and decide to pursue the relationship, he may manage to fit you in his schedule :))
"Hey, Darry.. uhm, could we talk for a second..?" You asked, as you popped up from around the corner, completely catching him off guard. It had been almost two weeks since you two had a proper conversation, and you weren't gonna let it go on any longer.
SODAPOP CURTIS
Okay so this is gonna come as a surprise to no one, but..
Throughout his life he has consistently gotten girlfriends and boyfriends with no issue
Again, no one's surprised
I mean, look at him, he's beautiful
Anyways-
He immediately knows that he likes you
And he very quickly starts planning out how he can go about the situation
It won't take very long for him to make his move, however if you beat him to it, he would definitely be over the moon
There you are, looking as good as ever. He's already decided that he's gonna ask you out later, an- wait.. your walking over to him..?
PONYBOY CURTIS
Poor kid doesn't know wtf is going on at first
All he knows is that he suddenly enjoys your company more then before
It wasn't until you interlocked his fingers with yours one night that he finally became fully aware of his feelings
He is not nearly as subtle about these feelings as he thinks he is.
He's so obvious, you'd have to be pretty inattentive to not notice anything
Based on this, you will likely be making the first move
With a dramatic sigh you let your head fall against his shoulder. The two of you have been studying together for about two hours and your in desperate need of a break. "C'mon, you need to focus." He said, sounding more annoyed then he really was. You grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers and looking up at him pleadingly. "Pleease.?"
DALLAS WINSTON
Ohh boy
Out of allll the guys in Tulsa, you caught his attention?
Lucky 🙄
I love him sm istg
In all seriousness, this is very new to him
He's not used to genuinely caring about someone
Besides Johnny, he's never really loved anything
He's gonna start off with his typical flirting
That won't change until he realizes his feelings
After that, he switches to being a total jerk to you
Mans does not know how to process his feelings
Just give him time tho, he'll figure it all out
Here you are, sitting on the porch of the Curtis house. It's late and everyone is inside the house, save for you and Dal. He's been real difficult lately, although tonight his attitude has noticably improved. As you watch him struggle to light his cancer stick you can't help but wonder, what did he want to ask you.?
JOHNNY CADE
My sweet, respectful boy
He falls head over heels immediately
Everybody realizes his feelings rather quickly too
Including himself
He's not stupid
He notices how his cheeks get all warm
His hands get all sweaty
His knees feel like they might give out
It's a new feeling for him
For once he has someone touching him without causing him pain
I'm gonna fight his parents- WOAH! Who said that!? 😅
If your the type of person who is really affectionate with your friends (me fr) then you might actually kill the poor kid
He asked Dally for advice only to completely ignore it
Turns out Dally sucks at giving good advice, who woulda known?
He was thankful for how dark it had gotten, otherwise you would be able to see just how red his face had gone. For some reason you had decided it would be a great idea to hold his hand out of nowhere. Why can't you see what your doing to him?
TWO-BIT MATHEWS
You guys prolly met in middle school
He pulled some dumb shii and put gum in your hair or something
After that he often teased you
Referring to you as his girlfriend/boyfriend
You better expect a lot of playful flirting with this one
He pretty much confesses his feelings on the daily tbh
Albeit in a way that makes you think it's a joke
Eventually you just kinda realize that hey, maybe he isn't joking
"See, I always knew we were perfect for each other, ever since that day in sixth grade." He teased, throwing his arm around your shoulder only for you to immediately push it off. "Get off of me, would you?"
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deadliestgalaxy · 1 year
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SPOILERS FOR GOTG VOL. 3 - DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET!
I have a feeling that everyone (who calls themselves fans) that didn't get the meaning of the ending in GOTG Vol. 3 has never read a single comic of them or is only a fan of some characters/relationships. Many complaints I've seen are about the end and Gamora and Peter’s romance, which sounds kind of childish. You don't need to agree with me, but I’d like to elaborate on that.
James Gunn's writing is always about the detail of things and he is not afraid to do something “bad” if it is the best for the STORYTELLING. This is what most of these people don't get: the most important part of these movies is the story they are telling. The characters help the movie tell the story, it's their story after all — but there's no protagonist or greater good that puts them above the narrative.
(This is different from Gamora’s death in IW btw. It was not the only way they had to make the story flow; they just wanted to “humanize” Thanos and by that, they chose to kill her character. It was an action ADDED not CRUCIAL to the story.)
Vol. 3 is about found-family and growing up; finishing cycles. They will always be family, as we will always be part of their story (that’s why we understand Groot now). However, life chapters end just like in real books, and these Guardians as a TEAM “chapter” has ended for them and for us.
This is very common in the comics. Most times they are all separated, doing solo missions, until something goes wrong and they reunite again. They never stop being friends, why would it be different in the movie universe?
But the end suggests they are not family anymore.
Did we see the same film? No, it doesn't. We can see that in James’ subtle writing: the way they all still respect each other, their understanding of one another, and how they all would die for themselves if needed. That won't change just because they are not physically together — just like when you finish school you won't ignore your best friends, even if you create new relationships (which you will).
But Gamora is not part of the family anymore.
Well, if you see it this way, I can't change your mind. What I can say is that the story IMPLIES that she still is, in fact. And the number one clue is that she (in 2 days) understands Groot. Remember, we also understand him because the fans are now part of the Guardians family — so understanding him and being family are correlated.
Anyhow, I know this is not enough for most people, so hear me out: Gamora’s arc is about respect and healing. She starts the movie skeptical about working with the guardians — she just wants the money— when in reality, she acts like this because she is AFRAID and feels PRESSURED to be around her “old” family.
Imagine: you died but then another version of you comes back without knowing anything of your present life. People will expect you to act in a certain way that maybe you started to act after you met them; they will expect you to like certain things you don't know of; people will EXPECT you to attend to their needs. It is a lot to swallow at once. You are afraid because you don't know them, you don't think you deserve all this love and commitment out of nowhere. So you run away. You run away to find things on your own, to grow out of this pressure you feel and discover the whole universe of possibilities you have ahead.
That's what Gamora did. But then, the mission went south and now she is stuck with her “old” team. The film shows us her character exploring the ship, listening to music... trying to understand them. At one point she even says to Rocket “You must be a very loyal pet for them to do all this for you” (or something similar). This is her way of putting into words how she visualizes the current scenario she was put in. Slowly she recognizes that they are a family, and by the way they act she finally gets how and why she also must have loved them in the past.
She goes from “I don't give a fuck”, not open to them, afraid and pressured to “I bet we were fun”, understanding and respecting them, even fighting for their family to survive.
(If she still didn't give a fuck she wouldn't have fought for them and with them when she could have just run away again.)
But she has already created new relations, so she goes back to those for now. It is what she is familiar with in this timeline. Does that mean she will never contact the guardians ever again? NO. Remember: James’s writing is about DETAILS, nuance. She is open to them again, and the final part of the movie shows this to us, especially her last interaction with Groot, Peter, and Nebula being friendly.
Oh, but Peter and Gamora will never be a couple again, their romance ended when she went back to the Ravengers.
… Again, if you see it this way I can’t change your mind. What I can confirm is that she doesn’t close herself to the team — especially to Peter — in the end.
When she says “I bet we were fun” it's the first time she acknowledges their former relationship without distancing herself from it. She could've said “I bet you were fun” or “I bet she was fun”, but instead she prefers to include herself with “we”. She pauses before letting go of Nowhere, stopping before entering her ship — what moves her forward is Nebula, who can see her sister’s changed attitude but still encourages her to take a step forward and go explore the galaxy, because she knows Gamora is not mature and ready yet for those feelings; just like she wasn't ready to be openly sentimental when Gamora joined the Guardians back in 2014.
And Peter is also not ready. Just like Gamora needs to find herself again and discover who she is, Peter needs too. He is lost without her after IW, we can see it during Holiday Special and in the beginning of Vol. 3 when he passes out because of alcohol abuse. Both don't know who they are in this new reality — and they will only find out with time. Time heals and reveals.
In the end, Peter doesn't have the same thought as in the begging: he doesn't want her to be who he once knew, he wants her as she is, this new version whom he still loves so much and wants to know more of. Although he wishes she could stay, he knows that she has her own time and while she learns about herself he will go do the same.
So yes, they’re not explicitly together as a couple in the final scene — neither they kiss nor make out, whatever you believe a relationship is made of — but they’ve changed and are open to one another. The last scene does not appear to me as an “I’ll never see you again”, but as a “Goodbye, see you soon”.
(Aside from all the small bits we had through the movie of a developing relationship between them; my favorite one being when Peter activates the auto-destruction code and Gamora smiles at him.)
Besides, you can't force anyone to fall in love in 48 hours!!
Yes, I also have some minor complaints about the story, but I can recognize that — with all the turbulence the characters and the production faced in the last few years — it was a satisfying end with a limited amount of time to a badass trilogy. The end is definitive but also open to future possibilities for all our favorite characters in their universe — some we might never see and it will only be to our imagination.
Again, you don't need to agree with me, but I had to do this, or else I would implode with thoughts. Thank you if read up here! My ask box is open if you want to talk more <3
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sundaycentric · 6 months
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JING YUAN AND NEUV!!!!!
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(I too am down horrendous for them)
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(seperate) neuvillette & jing yuan x reader
content ★ headcanons, NOT PROOF READ!!, sfw, fluff
note ★ SO REAL!! i love them both sm its unreal.. anyways im just going to do some basic headcanons and drabbles bc im abt to go to a dance and i need something quick to post.. other requesters i am working on your stuff!!
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NEUVILLETTE ★
He has no idea what it's like to be in a relationship. He has no experience whatsoever, besides for the in occasional movies Lady Furina will force him to watch with her.
Neuvillette isn't that dumb to take the movies as reality, though. So, he ends up just being a mess.
Before you start dating, Neuvillette will try to his best to hide his feelings. He often times pushes you away, but the sky darkens not soon after. He feels torn.
Neuvillette doesn't even understand his own emotions. He can barely process what he feels, let alone name it. He's confused and worried. He thinks it's love, but what if he isn't? He's never felt love to know what it's like.
It'd take some time for him to start working through his feelings. However, he still keeps his distance. He tries not to make it obvious he is avoiding you, but someone sees through him easily.
It doesn't take long for Lady Furina to find out what's happening, especially considering how observant she is to drama. She'll pester Neuvillette about it a bit, laughing at his reactions. Neuvillette tries to appear indifferent, but the sky's definitely different from what it was before.
For all her teasing, Lady Furina does genuinely care about Neuvillette (and you). She will offer some advice to Neuvillette, even though her experience in romance is just as limited as his. At least Lady Furina can work out her emotions, though.
Gradually, Neuvillette accepts your presence and allows him to take pleasure in it. A month ago, he was doing everything to stay out of your way, but now is he practically near you every time he can be.
He tries not to talk to you too much, though. He gets flustered. Although you might not be able to see it on his face, you might notice the sky becoming brighter—way brighter than normal when you talk to him.
He will never confess first. Well, unless he felt like he had to to avoid loosing you. Other that that scenario, though, he will keep quiet until you say something
Once you do say something and confess your feelings to him, Neuvillette will be so happy. His face might be a little smile, but there is no rain for entire week and lot's of people are getting sunburnt..
He will try his best to keep you happy. Neuvillette is very big on communication since he doesn't always understand what you feel. He does try though.
Neuvillette still doesn't talk much about himself. Instead, he prefers to listen to you. Even the small, mundane things you did during your day put a smile on his face.
Overall, he is very kind and considerate. Maybe even too much. He's scared of hurting you or pushing you away because of how he is. That hasn't happened yet, though. :)
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JING YUAN ★
He definitely knows what he is doing. He's had some experience in the past, both watching and doing. Although, it is different when it comes to you.
Jing Yuan took interest in you. He was curious. Why? He doesn't know himself. He just likes you presence. You remind him of his finches, maybe even lion sometimes.
He learns as much as he can about you without being seen as creepy. He'll pay attention attention to you at events or when he is in public. When he catches you staring at him, he feels warm.
Eventually, he begins to come up to you. Jing Yuan prefers to take things slow, and really wants to come up with some sort of strategy to win your heart. It's a bit hard, though. He doesn't want to manipulate you, you aren't his enemy.
Jing Yuan tries to keep things in his control, both so he can spend as much time with you possible and just because he likes it. He will pay for your lunches, buy you things you like, pay for your trips. Jing Yuan has enough money, and he is willing to spend it all if you ask for it.
He'll slowly try to become closer with you. He doesn't want to push you away. After all, Jing Yuan has all the time in the world to wait for you. He only hopes you'll actually go to him.
Jing Yuan seems more unfocused at work now. He is usually not paying attention anyways (as he is sleeping), but it's becoming a bit worse now. Lady Fu catches on quick and reprimands him.
Jing Yuan, in his tired state, tries to excuse himself before Lady Fu gets angrier. He ends up slipping and saying your name. The two of them stare at each other before Fu Xuan starts scolding him again.
Fu Xuan is mad at Jing Yuan, yes, but she cannot deny that she cares about Jing Yuan. So, she might peek into the future to see if the two of you are together. She refuses to tell Jing Yuan what she sees, but she smiles as soon as he leaves.
Jing Yuan may be first to confess. He is fine with either. In the case that he confesses, he'll laugh at the way your face lights up. If you confess first, he'll find it funny how you seem a bit unsure of yourself.
He will reassure you with a kiss on the cheek before telling you that he loves you. Jing Yuan will hug you tightly while he sleeps and take care of anything you need.
He is like a teddy bear. :)
He is attentive, and he always knows what you're feeling. He might tease you sometimes, but he is ultimately very sweet and protective over you.
Yanqing definitely looks up to you as another parental figure. Good luck with that.
Overall, very nice to sleep on. He'll take care of everything he can for you and treat you like a precious gem.
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ash-says · 26 days
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Things to be aware of as a Hopeless Romantic:
We all have been there daydreaming about the perfect man, the perfect life, the perfect whatever,etc. Still life is not full of roses and thorns are inevitable.
So here are some aspects to look out for according to me so that you won't fall in the delulu is the only solulu trap.
Remember if you follow me, we don't do regrets here. We accept, take accountability and move on. We don't soak ourselves in problems. We solve them effectively.
1) Drop those rose-colored glasses. Crush them under your feet and now look at the world again. Learn to accept reality. It is what it is. Not what you make it out to be. Learn to become an observer of your life from time to time. It will give you the real picture.
2) Potential is useless if you are not leveraging it. It's a trap both for yourself and others. You see potential in him of changing and being a good guy?? Girl, he *IS* not a good guy. It's not your job to raise a man. It's embarrassing. Stop babysitting grown men.
3) Standards are important but ensure they are not rooted in fantasy. Let's be honest finding a man who is rich, dark, tall, sexy and talks in the way you read in your romance novels is difficult. I am not saying it's impossible but don't be too rigid. All I will say is make sure you are also on the level where if you come across such a man he should be ready to date you.
4) Men view sex differently than us women. I know many of you will get triggered after reading this but the majority of men really view women as sex dolls. Blame the porn industry maybe. Good men exist but not every other man who talks sweetly is good.
5) A person in your life treats you nicely. Always talk sweetly, tells you that you matter to them but their actions don't match it. Chances are you are being breadcrumbed. Plans being cancelled? Messages being unseen? But when confronted all you get is,"Sorry love, I was busy. I was going to do it. You matter a lot,etc etc." Breadcrumbing. Be smart it can happen even in friendships too. I understand people get busier with time and things do happen. Use your discernment to see who really is busy and who is faking to be busy.
6) That uncle was so kind to me. He talked to me sweetly and always tried to help me out. Now, that's really sweet of him. Next he calls you home to help out with the household chores and he is alone at home because his wife is out of town for some work. Would you go and help? Yes. Will you go alone? No. That's unsafe.
No matter how much a gentleman a man appears to be you are not allowed to be in a situation where he could potentially take advantage of you. You always bring along a friend or deny it. I know it's wrong to not help someone but at your own risk. No. Never. It's common knowledge in our society.
7) Dreaming of a Prince Charming to whisk you away from all your troubles??? Dream on. The idea that a soulmate or one person will magically solve all our issues is dumb. We as human beings add to each other's happiness rather than becoming the core of it.
8) One of the biggest mistakes I have seen girls around me make is of being fully invested in a relationship to the point one small fight makes them depressed. That's codependency. It's unhealthy.
9) Never make your relationship your identity. You should always have a separate identity out of it. Stop curating yourself for your partners. Morphing yourself according to their likes and dislikes. That's one way ticket to an identity crisis after breakup. Compromises are essential but changing your core self??? Crazy shit.
10) Your relationship should not be the reason for your downfall. It happens especially with my intense girlies we invest so much of ourselves in the relationship to the point it becomes our focal point and when it faces upheavals we are devastated. The mental distress starts flowing in other areas of your life and suddenly your grades are falling, your career seems unstable, etc. Develop the emotional strength to compartmentalize your emotions and not allow them to overflow in other areas and affect them.
Imagination is fertile but being delusional is being stuck in a swamp.
That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.
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bruciemilf · 12 days
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When I watched The Batman, I watched it with my parents and I was like. "very good movie, I like how it wasnt sexy" and they were like "wtf do you mean, they were literally iin like... a sex club. Batman was shirtless. They smooched" but I stand by what I said. It wasnt sexy. I did forgor that Patinson was shirtless for a scene but the club was suitably uncomfortable in its portrayal. Selina didnt pose and lavish in attention, it was clearly a performance and one that she didnt enjoy. Very not sexy. andthe shirtlesss detective boy was like a wet cat. He wasnt posing or flexing, he could have ahad a shirt on and the scene would not have been markedly different for me. It reminded me of the guy in Elementary who did math shirtless because it let him feel the numbers and helped him do math good. Honestly shirts suck and being shirtless is comfy, its not neccesaroly sexy. The smooch I didnt like tho, thats true. it felt forced. Like clearly smthn that was just in there bc as a movie made in 2024 there must be smooches, even if there wasnt chemistry or any sort of relationship building. Like... I liked their vibe as a team and I could see how the partnership might evolve, but they were not romantic or even sexual in any way and the smooch was bad. I havent looked up any reviews to see if other ppl think this way but I dont want to do real work and I like ur blog so I thought I'd share my thoughts
Agreed that the lack of sexualization for both parties brings a refreshing change! Bruce and Selina, characters sexualized in very specific, but fateful ways, are portrayed almost perfectly in the Batman. They’re not Being, they’re Performing.
However, I can understand why your parents mean as well! Romance and sexuality, I feel, are such diverse and fluctuating mediums that can be interpreted a hundred different ways, and mean even more.
For you and I, — nudity isn’t sexual specific. But hey — maybe someone else thinks differently, so the opinion of the shirtless scene being sexy isn’t wrong — at least not totally. I find it sexy because I find Bruce hot. But it’ll be different for everyone
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cheolism · 1 year
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couch comfort
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✧ cheol x reader
✧ summary: maybe the bad stuff isn't so bad when you have your boyfriend, seungcheol, there to help you with the weight.
✧ wc is approx 6.3k
✧ genre: romance, fluff, humor; being in love. work sucks. little angst? reader talks of seungcheol being their first real crush/infatuation/love? seungcheol pouts a lot.
✧ note: if there is angst in here, it's very little! this fix purely exists for comfort. you make out at one point. there's another cat based off of my childhood cat. there's absolutely no plot, just kisses and cuddles and comfort. a lot of reflection abt your relationship w cheol at the beginning but it's not all like that lol. photo mentioned at the end is one of the photos at the top!!! this is not edited.
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The past week, while definitely not the worst week of your life, was definitely up there. 
You sighed, leaning forward and letting your forehead rest against the wheel. Taking a deep breath, you held it for a handful of seconds before releasing it; just as your therapist suggested. Then you thought of Seungcheol and his fluffy hair.
Feeling somewhat less stressed, you grabbed your backpack from the passenger seat and made your way inside, trying your best to ignore the bitter winter air that nipped at your thighs and legs. Ignoring the cold did nothing to actually prevent it, however, and you still fumbled with your apartment keys for a good minute before you were able to select the correct key and enter. 
You dropped your bag off at the door and kicked off your shoes, and in a voice that sounded remarkably like your mother when she babytalked your niece, you called out for your cat. 
You dropped your bag off at the door and kicked off your shoes, and in a voice that sounded remarkably like your mother when she babytalked your niece, you called out for your cat. 
Stumbling away from the door and to the living room, you withdrew your phone from your pocket and slid open the new notification from Seungcheol. 
Seungcheol: it sounds like you had a rough day.  im sorry. i wish i u didn’t. if u still feel up for it, i can be at ur apartment in twenty. but if u want to stay in or b alone tonight, i understand baby 
There was a meow from below, and that was all the warning you had before your ancient tortoise shell cat was leaping onto your chest, her weight startling you for a moment. You peered at Wolfie, her lime colored eyes peering back at you. Then she meowed again, and you couldn’t help but laugh at it, as she sounded as if she had been a serious chain smoker for fifty years. 
Wolfie ignored you, crawling forward and rubbing her head underneath your chin. She began purring, a deep thing that you could only truly appreciate if you were completely silent. You held your phone up in the air to type, leaving just enough space for Wolfie to curl up on your chest. 
You: ya!!!! I actually just got home 🧡💛 Wolfie immediately curled up on me, so I’ll have to ask her about getting up to get ready. 
You then snapped a picture of Wolfie on your chest and sent it to him. Letting your phone fall to the ground beside the couch, you began running your hands over Wolfie. Once upon a time, her fur had been soft and silky; it practically shined. But age had caught up to your precious companion, and you constantly fought back the urge to cry over how tough and wiry her fur felt underneath your fingertips. 
Sighing, you closed your eyes and let your head sink completely into the pillows. You had been joking to Seungcheol about getting Wolfie’s permission to get up, but even without her added twelve pounds on your chest, you would’ve had a hard time getting up. It was as if you were Atlas, the Titan who carried the world on his back, and the weight of it was keeping you down. 
Not to be misunderstood: you didn’t hate dates with Seungcheol, and most definitely didn’t despise time spent with him. As a matter of fact, you looked forward to every Friday, knowing that not only it marked the beginning of the weekend but was also your assigned date night with Seungcheol. 
If you were honest with yourself, you looked forward to waking up every morning. It was stupid and cheesy, and if your teenage self could see you they would shake their head and roll their eyes. But whenever you opened your eyes, Wolfie’s weight resting on your chest, you immediately thought of him. He was the first person you texted in the morning, whether it be about a particular dream you had, something you saw in the news, or even the weather. You couldn’t help but want to talk to Seungcheol first thing in the morning, just as you couldn’t help but message him until you went to bed. 
If you were frank with yourself, which was asking a lot, you wanted to talk to him all the time. It was so -- 
When you were a teenager, you had looked at your friends who were proclaiming their love for their partners only within a few months of dating with considerable scorn. After all, what did sixteen and eighteen year olds know about love? You had offered a listening ear to their troubles, empathizing with their adoration for their partner, while also mentally rolling your eyes and keeping yourself occupied with your books and music. 
So you didn’t know what to do about Seungcheol. You didn’t know what to do about wanting to send him pictures of all the pretty flowers you saw; videos of Wolfie being cute and cuddly; pictures of sunsets and sunrises, of cute stuffed animals and all other pretty things that reminded you of Choi Seungcheol. 
You inhaled, held it; released. 
If you were frank with yourself, if you stood back and analyzed everything, all the emotions you felt for Seungcheol and all the things you wanted to do for him and all the things you dreamt of doing with him, it sounded like you maybe felt something more than the fluttering adoration and infatuation you had at the start of your relationship when he asked you out. 
But you didn’t want to analyze that too much. 
You groaned slightly, stretching out your legs. Wolfie let out a noise of protest before purring, her attempt at getting you to remain laying down. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” you whispered, your hand going to rest on her head. You used your thumb to pet the space between her eyes. “I want to stay cuddled up with you forever, too. But I also want to see Cheolie.”
She adjusted herself on your chest, purring on. You did want to stay there in the dark with Wolfie, just as you had done during your early college days. Many evenings were spent like that, the two of you in your own space. More often than not, you felt like the world was on your shoulders -- just like Atlas -- and it was Wolfie’s own needs and wants that dragged you out of bed. 
The past week had you debating on canceling with Seungcheol. Nothing major had happened, of course, but instead a bunch of small incidents and interactions that left bad tastes in your mouth had piled up. Just as a bunch of small pebbles pile up to build a mountain, these small things had piled to the point where you just wanted to turn away from the world. 
But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to, more importantly. You didn’t want this past week, no matter how bad it might have been, to impede on your time with Seungcheol. You didn’t want to give up your time with him, not when it was -- not when he was -- so precious to you.
You settled an arm around Wolfie and slowly began to rise; she let out a few squeaks of protest. When Wolfie realized you weren’t going to stop, she huffed and wiggled out of your grasp. Tail high in the air, she walked over your legs to get to the arm rest opposite of you. She climbed on top of it and sat rather primly, looking at you with wide eyes. 
“Are you my pretty little lady,” you asked, voice sweet. You shifted to reach out and pet her. “My pretty baby.”
Wolfie allowed you to pet her for a handful of seconds before she sharply twisted her head towards the front door. She sat, waiting, until there was a series of sharp knocks. Wolfie began growling deep in her throat, hackles raising. 
“Y/n!” A deep voice called out, knocking stopping. 
You cursed, springing up from the couch. You grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt and pulled it away from you, swatting at the cat hairs that had decided to take up room and board on your shirt. “Coming!”
Wolfie ran beside you as you made your way to the door, her tail raised straight in the air. She jumped on the little tree you had next to the door, letting out a croaky yowl when you weren’t fast enough to open it. 
“Sorry, Wolfie, sorry --” You fumbled with the lock for a moment before successfully unclicking it. You wrenched open the door, a large, nearly comically so, smile already on your face. “Seungcheol!” 
He was grinning back at you, eyes twinkling. Seungcheol was dressed in all black, from his heavy winter coat that was a size too big to his pants and boots. The beanie he wore was the only spot of color on him, it being a vibrant orange. 
As always, despite his humble outfit, he was handsome and beautiful. 
Something shifted inside of you. It was as if you had done the breathing exercise your therapist had suggested, but instead of lifting only a few pebbles off your shoulders it relieved you of half a mountain’s worth of weight. 
You stepped back, letting him come into your apartment enough to shut the door behind him. Wolfie hopped off of her cat tree and went to him, winding herself around her legs. You went to follow suit, arms reaching out to him, but he stopped you. 
Subconsciously your lips began to pout at his refusal. Seungcheol laughed, his hands going to his zipper. “Let me take off my coat before you hug me. It’s cold outside.”
“I don’t care about it being cold,” you mumbled, but did as he said. 
As soon as he had his coat unzipped, Seungcheol reached out for you. He opened his coat just enough so you wouldn’t be touching the cold outer layer, his hands guiding you to rest against him. 
He was warm; that was your first thought. 
His arms surrounded you, pulling you close enough to where your nose was smashed against his chest. Not that you minded. Your arms slipped around him in turn, sliding underneath his coat and taking hold of the back of his hoodie. One of his hands went to the back of your head, fingertips sinking in your hair, and he guided you to rest your cheek against him. 
Your eyes slipped shut of their own will. Humming, you nuzzled into him, breathing him in. Before Seungcheol, you never really gave much thought into what men smelled like; all you knew was they either smelled good or bad. But Seungcheol?
He smelled like -- well, like Choi Seungcheol. You knew he used expensive cologne, that he used fabric softeners and used the same body wash and lotion so the fragrance would be amplified. Your first impression of him had been that he smelled expensive, and even now, three months into your relationship, you couldn’t help but associate him with luxury. 
But now? 
He smelled like home. 
That was your second thought. 
“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” His face was pressed into your hair, just as yours was his chest, and you wondered if he was breathing you in, as you were him. The hand that was in your hair began to fumble with the strands before settling, his palm heavy on your head. He began petting you, as if you were a cat or a dog, but instead of feeling indignant you felt extremely at ease. 
“It’s fine.” 
He hummed, the sound coming deep from within him. You felt his chest vibrate against your face. “It’s not fine. I don’t like it when you’re suffering.”
You grinned, squeezing him. “I’m not suffering, Seungcheol. Just. Had a bad week. Besides,” you pulled away slightly, just enough to peer up at him with your little grin. “Somehow it doesn’t feel all that bad anymore.”
Seungcheol laughed, hands moving to your face. He pinched at your cheeks, not hard enough to hurt, before cupping them in his hands. His dark eyes were soft and sparkling as they looked at you, and you knew that no one suited brown eyes as well as he. They were warm and inviting, gentle and soft; perfect reflections of his soul. 
He didn’t speak. He licked his lips and your eyes obediently went to his mouth. Seungcheol chuckled again, his hands tilting your face up. Expectant, your eyes slipped shut. 
You waited for a second. Then another. Then a few more, and your eyes were opening in confusion. He was still watching you, smiling wide enough that his gums showed. 
“Seungcheol!” You whined, brow furrowing.
He giggled, a boyish thing that seemed so at odds with his masculine build and voice. But it was him. 
Seungcheol swooped down, his lips finally connecting with yours. You sighed at the contact, melting against him. The two of you exchanged chaste kisses back and forth, neither in a rush. It was as if your entire week had been hurtling towards this, towards you in his arms, his lips on yours, something settling in your heart that seemed a little too much to just be infatuation. 
He pressed one final kiss to your mouth before straying, his lips ghosting over your cheek. They traveled about your face, his breath warm as it hit your skin. He pressed quick kisses to the apple of your cheek, the space between your brows, your temple; you hummed, satisfaction and safety seeping into your bones and soul, and he pressed a kiss to each of your eyes. 
Seungcheol’s mouth returned to yours, and when he pressed another kiss to your mouth, firm like how someone would kiss a lover long gone, you couldn’t help but beam. 
His own lips twisted into a smile in response. Your teeth clacked against his, both of you grinning into each other’s mouths. 
“Sorry for teasing you, baby.” He pulled away from you, hands squeezing your cheeks before he released you. You wanted to stick yourself back into his arms, but held back. “You’re just so damn cute.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes in faux annoyance. You couldn’t fight the smile that was still on your face, though. “Whatever.”
“What --” Seungcheol stopped pulling off his coat for a moment to stare at you, eyes narrowing, as if you had done something sacrilegious. “Did you just say whatever to me saying you’re cute?”
He still had that appalled look on his face. You shifted back onto your heels, watching as he slowly continued pulling off his coat. You wondered if he was teasing you. “I mean. Thanks?”
“You are cute,” he declared, voice stern with authority. You couldn’t help the look of disbelief that appeared on your face. Seungcheol sighed, as if your skepticism was disappointing. He got one arm out of his coat. “You are. I don’t know who I have to punch to convince you --”
“Violence isn’t the answer to everything,” You chided. You finally left the entryway, moving to your kitchen. “I’ll get some hot chocolate ready for you, Seungcheol!”
He gave an affirmative noise in return. You pulled out your milk and went about heating it up. As it heated, you pulled out two mugs from the dishwasher, which was so full of dishes that had been shoved in that you had to wiggle the mugs back and forth to get them out. 
You felt his presence behind you, and you felt embarrassment slowly creep its way up your neck and settle on your face. Standing, you refused to look him directly in the face. “I uh. Didn’t have the energy to really do dishes that much this week.”
Arms were wrapping around your waist, Seungcheol plastering himself to your back. You put the cocoa powder in the glasses. He slouched against you, his head tilted against yours, watching. He was warm, always warm. One of his arms moved to sling around your waist, the other across your chest. 
You removed the milk from the microwave, pouring it evenly in the two mugs. Seungcheol shuffled with you as you shifted, grabbing the mini-marshmallows from the cupboard. Without much thought you distributed them before leaving the package on the counter. 
“They’re not even.”
“Hm?”
Seungcheol sighed against your ear, as if whatever he had seen was greatly burdening him. “The marshmallows. There’s not an even amount in both mugs.”
“Oh.” You looked down, eyeing both the mugs. “You can have the one with more of them, then.”
Clicking his tongue, Seungcheol reached around you for the package. “You deserve to have the same amount of marshmallows as I do, baby.”
Feeling slightly as if this wasn’t just about marshmallows, you watched as Seungcheol’s fingers carefully counted out five more marshmallows and put them into the left mug. Before he could settle his hand back on your waist, you grabbed it. 
You slid your hand on top of his, observing. His fingers were larger than yours, both in length and width. Seungcheol was pale, remarkably so, and his fingers were no different. Your fingers slid against his hand, feeling the little hairs on his knuckles and the ring on his forefinger. Your other hand joined your first in your navigation of his hand, smoothing over his fingernails -- which he kept trimmed and maintained, more than you -- feeling the sharpness of them in contrast to the soft pads of his fingers. 
Seungcheol wiggled his fingers, and you felt a little giggle escape you as you wrapped your hands around three of his fingers, squeezing. He pressed himself further into you, and you felt every inch of him against you. 
“Seungcheol --”
He pulled away, pressing a kiss to your ear. You peered over your shoulder at him, tilting your head. Seungcheol looked at you for a moment before smiling that gummy grin of his, his hands going to hold your head and bring it so he could press a kiss to your temple. 
“Why are you so fucking cute,” he said, each word separated by a kiss to your forehead. 
Seungcheol released you, picking up both mugs. You followed him into the living room, where he immediately went to the couch. Wolfie hopped onto the coffee table in front of it, sniffing both mugs. Seungcheol went to shoo her away but you stopped him, folding yourself into the couch next to him. 
“She doesn’t drink it,” you said. You reached to the ground and pulled a blanket off of it, settling the blanket over your legs. “The only people food she likes is salami. The real kind, you know? Or she likes licking bowls after I eat Captain Crunch.”
Seungcheol laughed, and like always whenever you heard the sound, you giggled along with him. He shifted further into the couch, moving his feet to prop them up on the coffee table. He pulled the blanket off of you, shooting a look at you when you protested. Seungcheol grabbed your calves, guiding your legs to drape over his thighs. He then adjusted the blanket over the both of you, tucking both of you in. 
“She’s a good girl,” Seungcheol agreed, reaching out. Wolfie took the hint and jumped onto your legs, climbing fervently up to his hand so he could pet her. He chuckled, obliging. “She’s awfully needy.”
He shot you a look, coy. “Just like someone else I know.”
You puffed out your cheeks, shooting him a glare. “You’re just as needy as I am, Mr. Choi Seungcheol!”
He gasped, openly insulted. “What did I say about calling me by my full name?”
You wiggled, reaching out and tugging one of his curls. “Well, when you start accusing someone it makes them do horrible things, Mr. Seungcheol. Like using full names.”
“Oh, does it?” He grinned. With one hand still petting Wolfie, he used the other hand to reach out and ruffle your hair. You let out an indignant squawk, waving your hand around to try and get him to stop. “Does it, then? Call me Choi Seungcheol again and see what happens!”
“Okay,” you laughed. “Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol.”
His mouth dropped, affronted. Seungcheol then huffed, moving his arm off of you and turning his face. “Fine. You’re lucky Wolfie is on your legs, otherwise I’d push you off.”
You laughed at his sulking, thoroughly endeared. You shifted forward, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You tried to bring him down to you in order to kiss him, but Seungcheol resisted, straining against you. “Hey! I’m trying to make it better, Seungcheol!” 
“Nope!” He said, shaking his head. His curls bounced with every movement, and you couldn’t help but smile in adoration. “No making it better, F/n L/n. You’ve done it.”
“Oooh,” you cooed, “I’ve done it, have I?”
He nodded, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated pout. “Yep. You’ve done it.”
“What have I done?”
“Agitated me.”
You laughed, a loud thing that startled Wolfie from your lap. She jumped off of the couch, her feet hitting the hardwood with a little thump! 
“I’ve agitated you!” You echoed in between laughs. You fell back against the couch, head hitting the armrest at an awkward angle, no longer able to support yourself. When you peeked back at Seungcheol, he was raising his thick eyebrows at you, which set you off giggling again. 
He moved your legs off of his thighs, moving around them and guiding them to rest on the couch. You watched, your smile so big it was starting to hurt your cheeks, as he descended upon you. He placed his knees on either side of your thighs, setting his weight against them. Seungcheol bent over you, his eyes sparkling with something dangerous, one eyebrow lifted. 
“Now you’ve really done it,” he murmured, voice deep. It sent something coursing through you, something that ate away at the mirth and sent heat shooting through your heart and settling deep. Seungcheol leaned over you, one hand bracing against the armrest and the other guiding your head in a more comfortable position. 
“I’ve really done it,” you echoed, dumbly. 
“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he said, absentmindedly. His fingers traced over your ear, nail scraping lightly; your eyes fluttered as they continued to glide over your skin, moving to your jaw. You felt two of his fingers prod at your lower lip before continuing, pulling at it slightly before moving to ghost over your chin. 
You hummed, tongue reaching out to wet your lips. “I can.”
He lowered himself against you. He braced both hands on either side of your head, and your eyes slid shut as his face neared. 
Then your phone began to buzz. 
Your eyes flew open, staring into his. He was so close. He let out a huff of breath. The two of you waited for a second, and you knew he was trying to will the noise away just as much as you, but to no avail. 
You tapped his thighs, and Seungcheol let out a deep sigh. He began raising himself off of you, and you couldn’t help but give his thighs a squeeze. 
Seungcheol went to the other end of the couch as you hung your front half off of it, searching the ground for where your phone had fallen earlier. Once you got it, you wiggled frantically back onto the couch. You moved to press against Seungcheol, your thighs molding into one another, elbows knocking. 
Your mood, which had been repaired by Seungcheol, began to dampen as soon as you saw the contact name of the person who had messaged you. Your weariness must have appeared on your face, as Seungcheol was immediately responding. He swung his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer, leaning his head against yours. 
“What’s wrong, baby?”
Humming, you softly shook your head so as to not hurt his. “Just texts from my manager.”
You didn’t move to open the messages. It was like you were Atlas again. The weight returned, no matter how many pebbles and rocks Seungcheol had brushed off of your shoulders.
Seungcheol let out a little sigh. He wiggled about, turning onto his side to face you. He leaned forward and tucked his face into your neck, warm breath hitting your skin. Seungcheol laid his other arm over your stomach, hand gently squeezing at your lovehandle. 
“You don’t have to answer it,” he murmured. You could feel his lips move against your skin. “You’re not in a manager position, and you’ve clocked out. It can wait.”
When you shook your head in answer, he sighed again. Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your neck, and a part of you couldn’t help but feel foolish at how your heart jumped and the corners of your lips twitched up into a little smile. 
Unlocking your phone, you hurriedly tapped on your manager’s messages. Immediately you were met with five separate chat bubbles, all as unwelcome as the one before it. manager: so what was this I heard about you leaving early yesterday? 
manager: I know you see other people leaving early, but that’s not something I encourage. It’s not something you should encourage, either. 
manager: We rely on you to set an example to the others. 
manager: You’re scheduled for a certain time, and you should be fulfilling that time. 
manager: If this happens again I’ll have to look into shortening your hours.
Your mouth fell open with an audible noise, a small breath of air leaving you as you read over your manager’s messages. Seungcheol made an inquiring sound and you tilted your phone towards him so he could read the texts. 
“What the fuck,” he muttered. “What the fuck. Who the fuck cares? Who the fuck -- so what you left early?”
“It was by ten minutes,” you softly said, sending out a quick affirmative to your manager to let them know you at least read the messages. “I was just. Tired, you know?”
Seungcheol straightened next to you, angling his head to read the texts again. His thick brows were narrowed, plump lips twisted into an irritable frown. “What the fuck. Ten minutes? This is over ten fucking minutes?”
“It’s just --” You broke off, fumbling with your phone for a moment. “It’s not like I do it all the time.”
“No, it’s not!” Seungcheol’s eyes were practically blazing as he looked at you, his grip on you tightening. He was fully irritated, gaze sharp and mouth firm. The urge to smile struck you for a split moment, your heart whispering with glee that he was angry over you; he was angry because of someone mistreating you. 
“It’s fucking ridiculous,” Seungcheol announced. His fingers dug into your shirt. “You’re a model employee. You never call in, never leave early or without doing your shit. Who the fuck are they to -- to text you like that?”
“My manager, Cheolie,” you reminded him. 
He scoffed, his hand leaving your body to push his curls away from his face. “Your manager -- fuck them, fuck! You’re a good person, a good employee. You’re an amazing person and if you want to leave ten minutes early, then you should! Fuck them!”
You were grinning now, your heart practically singing. It was nothing, you supposed. It wasn’t anything to get excited about, but there was something magnificent in seeing someone get angry over how others were treating you. It was wonderful to see another person so invested in your well-being and happiness, and it made your heart feel light. 
It was like he had taken the boulder on your back -- the world on Atlas’s -- and smashed it between his two hands, his anger blazing bright enough to blaze through rock.
Seungcheol’s eyes met yours, and immediately his look softened. He sighed, though his lips were beginning to curve in his sweet smile. He tucked his face back into your neck, pressing another kiss underneath your ear. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m being righteously angry on your behalf.”
You laughed, throwing your head back. “‘Righteously angry?’”
He giggled, burying his face into your skin. He kissed you again there, before Seungcheol was removing his head. Seungcheol peered up at you, and you couldn’t help but admire him. His dark curls, how they brushed against his sweet, wide eyes; his eyelashes, those ridiculously long and dark lashes that made him look ridiculously endearing. 
Fuck, how you wanted him. 
“You know,” he began, lips in a coy smile. “You haven’t really given me a kiss hello.”
You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, raising your brows. “The audacity -- I have! Do you not remember us at the door?”
He hummed, shaking his head. His curls bounced. “Nope! I distinctly recall that whole ordeal being led by me.”
“Oh, was it?”
“Yep.”
You laughed, turning to face him. You switched your phone to your left hand, and with your right you reached up and cupped his cheek. His skin was soft and smooth, and you couldn’t help but stroke his cheekbone. You then pressed your hand to his jaw. “Well, I better correct that then.”
You pressed your lips against his, three quick kisses in succession. 
“Hm,” Seungcheol said. “I don’t know if that’s really enough to make up for it.”
“It’s not?” Then you pressed three more kisses. “How is that, sweetheart?”
Seungcheol shrugged. One of his hands settled on your waist, the other going to tuck your hair behind your ear. He traced his thumb over the shell of your ear before settling his hand right below it, on the hinge of your jaw. “Better, but not really satisfying, you know?”
“Not satisfying?” You asked, voice pitching high with amusement. His brown eyes were soft and twinkling, almost as if his soul was beckoning you closer, closer, to come closer and fall into his. You rose to your knees, letting your phone drop between the two of you. “I’ll just have to remedy that real quick.”
“I can tell you if it’s gonna be a quick one it won’t be real satisfying,” he chimed. 
You rolled your eyes, lowering your face. His eyes were already on your lips, his tongue peeking out. “You don’t have to worry about it being satisfying.”
Then you were upon him. Your hands on his face, angling his head up and towards you. You pressed a kiss to his upper lip, chaste and sweet, before tilting your head. Like a wave intent on devouring, you moved your mouth onto his. 
For a moment, Seungcheol let you work your mouth against his. Your kisses were wet and warm, and he was an obedient servant to the mastery your mouth had over him. Your hands sunk into his hair, nails scraping, fingers tugging. He was pliant beneath you, and you kissed him with the unhurried ease that all devote lovers practiced. 
Then, rather impishly, you took his bottom lip between your teeth. He let out a breathy moan at it, and for a moment you couldn’t help but grin. 
Pulling back, you tried to fight the surge of pride you felt as he surged after you. You subconsciously set a hand against his thick neck in an attempt to stop him from following, but Seungcheol paid no mind. Indeed, you couldn’t help the shiver of excitement that ran through you as he continued to push, his eyes dark with intent, nevermind the feeling of your hand pushing against him. 
“Why did you stop, baby,” Seungcheol murmured. His voice was dark and deep, matching his eyes, and fuck, if you weren’t ready to lay on the couch and let him have his way. 
“Our hot chocolate,” you replied, heart beating so quickly it was as if a hummingbird had somehow made its home within you, “it’s cold.”
“If it’s cold now, it’ll be cold when we’re done.”
You laughed, then. You threw out your arms and wrapped him in them, bringing Seungcheol flush against you. He went easily, and you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, hands messing with his hair. 
“If I had known,” you said, still giggling as you pressed a final kiss underneath his chin, “before we started dating how absolute insatiable and ridiculous you are, I wouldn’t have believed it. You really had me fooled, Seungcheol.”
He chuckled, moving his arms around you. Seungcheol pressed you into him, just as you had him. “I swear, everytime you call me ‘Seungcheol’ I lose another year of my life. Next you’ll be telling me that’s my name in your phone.”
You went still against him. 
Immediately Seungcheol pulled away from you. He looked at you, scrutinizing. Then, voice severe, “Unlock your phone for me.”
That set you off laughing again. Seungcheol laid you onto the couch before searching the area for your phone. He was presenting it to you in a matter of seconds, holding it out in front of you. “Unlock it.”
“You know the passcode,” you giggled. 
“No I don’t --”
You shot him a meaningful look. Then his eyes widened, and he tapped in the date of your first date. He had a satisfied look on his face when your phone unlocked, a little smirk at the corner of his mouth. You watched as he glanced around your phone. You let out a soft sigh, extending your legs and settling them on either side of Seungcheol. 
“What.” He blinked, then blinked again. “Seungcheol. You have my full first name? Not even a heart, not a flower or something cute, no -- there’s not even a smiley face!”
You were grinning. He huffed, shoulders rising. His brows furrowed and his lips went into a full pout. “Hey. Baby, this isn’t okay!”
“I didn’t realize it was just a crime,” you said. 
He glanced over at you. As soon as Seungcheol saw you were grinning and realized the depth of your insincerity, he was sticking his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and withdrew his phone. 
“Look,” he said, flashing you his phone screen. 
He had a picture of you from your first date as your contact photo. You were smiling, brightly and unabashedly. It was almost goofy looking, how happy you looked in that picture. 
Your name in his phone was just as sweet, and you wondered if you needed to schedule a dentist appointment first thing Monday morning from the cavities that were surely forming. 
My Baby 💖🔥
“Aw,” you said, “that’s so cute.”
His jaw dropped. “Cute -- yes, it is cute! Meanwhile you just have my full fucking government name --” “Cheolie, sweetheart, it isn’t that serious --”
He glared at you, before shoving your phone towards you. “Change it. Right now.”
“Doesn’t that ruin --”
“Don’t make me repeat what I said,” Seungcheol warned. He stood, and your eyes immediately fell to his ass. Not in a perverted way of course, but because it was art and it would be a dishonor to not observe and appreciate art. 
“I’ll be back,” he said, “and when I return you better have something so fucking cute it’ll make me cry.”
Rolling your eyes, you went about your business. You already had a cute picture of him -- one taken when he had fallen asleep behind you -- as his profile picture, so you hurriedly began typing out a name for him. 
It really wasn’t a big deal to you, and you knew it really wasn’t that big of a deal to Seungcheol either. He’s seen your contact list. Everyone had their first and last names in it, save for your family members. There were no emojis, no cute names. 
Truly, you thought, Seungcheol should consider himself privileged. 
When he returned, he had Wolfie in his arms. Her eyes were shut, and she was completely dwarfed by his bulk and the added fluff that his oversized hoodie gave him. She was perfectly content, however, and when he sat down next to you all Wolfie did was shift in his arms to further mold into his chest. 
“So?”
You smiled, holding your phone against your chest. “I don’t know, sharing the contact name of your beloved is sort of a private thing.”
He shot you a glare. 
Giggling, you held out your phone for him. 
🌸💘 My Seungcheol 💘🌸
“Is it appropriately cute?”
He hummed, tilting his head. “What are the flowers?”
“Your lips,” you said matter-of-factly. “Your lips remind me of pink blossoms.”
Shocked, Seungcheol flickered his eyes up to yours. His eyes, always rife with emotion, were round from the revelation. His lips -- his blossom pink lips -- parted, and like a magnet your eyes were on them. 
“Those are some dangerous words, baby.”
You shrugged, settling back against the couch. “Too bad you have Wolfie on you.”
He looked down at the cat, eyes narrowed. You could practically hear him cussing her out. Then he sighed, settling one of his hands on her back. Wolfie arched into it, and in the silence you could hear her beginning to purr. 
Seungcheol moved to rest against you, the two of you practically molding into one. You leaned against him, head on his shoulder, hand moving to join his in petting Wolfie. For a moment the two of you were quiet, enjoying one another, safe in the knowledge of the infatuation, adoration, yearning, the -- the love that the two of you shared, safe in the knowledge that it existed and thrived. Knowing that no matter the weight on the back, the other would be there to help brush off pebbles and destroy the rubble.
You moved your head, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. He hummed, and as you pulled back he swept down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.
“You know,” he said, after the two of you settled back in your spots. “I saw the prettiest flower today while walking through the store. I took a picture of it because it reminded me of you.”
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antimony-medusa · 7 months
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Gonna be honest with you though if someone outright says “don’t ship my character with other people” or something to that extent regarding smut or whatever I don’t think there should be any ambiguity
I get your point about the nature of fanfic being inherently encroaching upon people’s images so that levity should be extended to otherwise uncommon avenues but I really believe hardline boundaries should be respected, end of, no discussion. If I see people violating creators’ boundaries for their characters Or themselves (and these can be intertwined, it’s not up to the audience to pick apart their boundaries, cuz I’ve seen people try to do that) I’m not going to judge them fairly and I feel like neither should you.
Lines can be crossed and intimacy (not even necessarily romantic!) is a very different monster than the other avenues of storytelling because of how it involves real life relationships seeping into character relationships. Its’s uncommon for people to be like “I wrote A’s character being tortured because I feel like A is tortured in real life” but they Can and Often do that with ship work. So I don’t know, I feel like you’re not affording this the right nuance.
Alright, so, this is another post I'm gonna slap with a discourse and long post warning right away, buckle in.
Yeah, I hear what you're saying, and this is not an uncommon opinion to have! It's still the opinion of twitter/x so far as I know, and I think it's probably the opinion of the bulk of dsmp fans here, as well. I know my posts get notes once they start circulating in hermitblr, but I don't kid myself that I have the majority view. I am posting to explain my views expressly because I know a lot of people don't agree with me!
And in this case we do have a difference of opinion. There's two sort of points as I see it in your posts— we have hardline boundaries about shipping/nsfw from some people, and everyone in the fandom should be abiding by those no exceptions or be thrown out of the fandom; and we have shipping boundaries but not boundaries for other things because shipping is uniquely boundary-crossing and terrible and invasive, in contrast to anything else we can do in fandom.
Taking the second part first, I just don't think that's true. Let's not forget, boundaries discourse started with SMPLive and SMPronpa, and it was not the shipping that caused the discussion, it was the death games. The first real fandom reckoning we had with the notion of boundaries as mcyt fandom was over gore and murder and portraying people in violent ways. Shipping was barely a blip on the radar. The way the discourse has developed now, shipping is framed as the absolute worst thing anyone could ever do with your public image, and everything else is fine, but that is not the case for everyone. Recently the Pirates SMP creators were asked repeatedly for their boundaries (bothered on twitter, really) until they gave them and thus we saw people being fine with shipping but not wanting family dynamic, or being against both shipping and gore, or being fine with shipping but not wanting to be gender bent or trans headcanoned, etc. Not everyone feels the same way about the same things, despite the us-american cultural viewpoint that romance and sexualization is uniquely bad but gore and torture is fine, that everything else is fine.
Like, if we're looking at DSMP, I think there are a lot of creators who would feel just as strongly if not stronger about fics in which their character died of a terminal illness than they would about a fic in which they kiss someone, for understandable reasons. But I see those tropes in the tags regularly!
I think if we are honest with ourselves, if we are going to hardline boundaries about things that are uniquely invasive or bad to do to a creator's character with the view that we are putting all of this up for the creator's approval, we need to accept that this excludes us from writing anything where a character is abusive or is tortured or dies of a terminal illness or is psychologically broken or is age regressed or is neurodivergent or is queer if the cc is straight or trans if the cc is cis or cis if the cc is trans or straight if they're gay— the list of things that would be weird to do in the face of the real guy is really long. And it has most of our favourite tropes on it!
I love writing autistic philza. It would be really fuckin' weird to go up to Philza and tell him about how I write his character as whumped and autistic. Come on now. (But that's within boundaries, so that's— fine? I really don't think it's fine!)
Which is why my stance is that we should be thinking critically about these things, and keeping the fandom seperate from the creators. Some of these things are just not for the creators. They're fine but they shouldn't go on twitter. Y'know?
The idea that shipping draws uniquely on the real person and leads to invasive behaviour but nothing else does— that nobody does "I wrote A being tortured because I think A is tortured in real life"— Look. I have been in the fandom a long time. I remember how all the abused tommy narratives fed right into people assuming his family in real life were abusive— and talking about this on twitter! Where he and his family could see! People did this with WIlbur and Techno too!
I remember people reading about trans tommy and then truthing that the creator either was transmasc or was going to come out as transfemme any day now, publically, on twitter and in his chat. I have seen people she/her tubbo to his face on twitter, with fancams. I have been in chat when people who have clearly assigned Phil "dad" start asking WILDLY invasive things in TTS. If you think that shipping is the only fandom behaviour that can lead to people drawing directly from the streamers for their work and treating the creators weirdly about it, you simply have not been paying attention.
The way the fandom insists on treating benchtrio as children despite the fact that they're almost twenty and viciously attacking their friends for treating them as adults and chiding tommy and tubbo and ranboo for inappropriate behaviour. The list goes ON.
So. The recieved DSMP wisdom is that we should TTS the streamers to check if it's okay if we write a fic in which they die of cancer. We should DM them on instagram to ask if it's okay if we write them as a gender or sexual identity they don't share. We should show up in their twitter mentions to ask if it's okay if we write them as a physically abusive parent.
No????????
My view on that is that it is frankly bizzare it is that we have decided that "asking creators for detailed instructions regarding porn or gore" (especially in TTS! When they're fucking at WORK and can't step away! Stop doing this to the hermits!) is normal and fine and responsible but "post your shit in appropriate places and leave the creators out of it" will make you a monster.
Once again, the experience of someone coming up and saying "i think of you as age regressed" and someone saying "i found this fic where you're age regressed" and someone saying "can I write a fic where you're age regressed" is not that different. In all cases you know that the person has been thinking about it and putting it out there, and in all cases you didnt seek out this information, it was brought to you. In all cases it's weird. Just do not bring this information up to them!
If you just think about it for a while, you see that there is an entire host of things that would be weird to force into the view of a creator, especially when you consider that half the time we got these clips from TTS information when we have no idea if the person answering knew the context of what they were being asked, if they were specifically aware of the creator/cc divide that the fandom works with, or if they felt pressured into it. Oh yeah, let's take a TTS clip from Tubbo when it was 2 in the morning for him and he was deep in a minecraft mod when someone asked him about alters and delusions and he was like "oh you mean like— when they can't help it? I guess that's fine." That definately counts as freely given, reversible, informed, enthusiastic and specific consent to show him anything we want at all times forever. That's never going to make him uncomfortable.
Think a little here.
So I think there's a lot of the fandom that we should not be putting up for the approval of the creators, and if we don't have a firm answer on if they would like potential edge cases, we should probably be thinking about it and keeping it away from them (and I would err on the side of caution), we should NOT be showing up in the TTS to ask them about narratives in which they're institutionalized, or making them a GOP conservative in fiction, or if Wilbur was canon about seeing them as a bottom, or whatever bizzare thing someone is cooking up now. Honestly if you think to yourself "I don't know if the creator would like seeing this", I would be much more comfortable if the two choices we were picking between there were "simply don't write it" or "write it but keep it away from them", and "harass the creator for an answer on this subject and only write it if they say yes" never entered the equation at all.
And to return to your first point, if we already have a class of fiction that we are keeping away from the creators because basic intellectual curiosity would show that it would be weird to show someone, I don't think it's the end of the world to go "okay, creator doesn't like NSFW, so we also keep the NSFW away from them, keep this shit off twitter, block them if you create it, don't show it to them" and then we archive lock it and continue on our little weirdo on the internet ways.
Now, I don't expect to convince you of this, the phrasing of your post does not indicate that you're open to discussion on this topic. That's fine. Nobody has to agree with me. But I grew up conservative christian, and I have already had people try and get me to throw people out of the community for their perceived sins where I was like "well, I really don't think this is that bad", and I'm really resistant to being forced to do that again. I don't think it's a healthy way to run a fandom, to be shunning people for what they're doing in fiction. Harassing creators in chat? Sure, I will block them from my events as untrustworthy. That's hurting someone in the real world. Writing something that I don't vibe with privately on the archive for an audience of 50 people? That is not doing harm to real people. As long as they're not showing it to the creators, I don't count that as offensive.
How's that for nuance.
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ohtobeleah · 3 months
Text
Was It Over? // Jake Seresin
-> Chapter Ten: [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?]
Summary: Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion
Word Count: 4.2K
Author Note: It's no secret I've been having a little bit of a rough go on this hell-site as of late. But I'm still here, working on this series. Seeing your weblogs, comments and concepts truly mean the world to me. so please, don't be hesitant to share.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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“My only real advice for this kind of thing is this.” Jensen sighed as he stood on the steps of his townhouse with you. Coffee in one hand, end of life brochure in the other. Things had taken a rather drastic turn for him in the last few days. After your birthday, his health started to drastically diminish–so much so that his doctors weren’t too sure how much time there was left to combat the cancerous cells spreading through his body. “Go right through it.” Jensen smiled, never once did you ever see his positivity falter. “Like right through it, feel it all, be in it, don't avoid it because the moment you start avoiding it is when it's truly won.” 
Little Sammy held your hand as you stood next to Jensen–he was too young to understand that the man talking to you was dying, hell, you weren't even sure if you understood the significance of the pamphlet Jensen had picked up after your first CCA meeting. He’d told you it was for a friend, little did you know that friend was standing right in front of you. 
The Cancer Counseling Association held biweekly meetings at the hospital. You hadn’t planned on attending when your oncologist, Doctor Morrison, had first mentioned it. But when Jensen said he’d been going almost religiously for three years? You thought, what's the harm? 
The harm was it was depressing as fuck. 
“You go completely in the tough times, feel everything and get out the other end of it all.” You’d asked Jensen something along the lines of how he’d managed to keep fighting all this time and still be so positive about life and all its underwhelming rewards. He was for the most part, a happy guy despite it all. But even the strongest of soldiers have an achilles heel. 
Jensens just so happened to be the fact you were forbidden fruit, he wasn't about to tread on another man's toes. Especially when he was tiptoeing towards the sweet release of death's gentle hands. None of that stopped his heart from racing whenever you smiled though. 
“Many of these things you don't have a choice in.” Jensen continued as his eyes lingered down to little two year old Sammy who stood holding your hand in his. If anything you needed the encouragement to fight this battle for your children. “You know, fuck, whats that expression?” Jensen mulled it over as you chuckled, still standing on the path right outside his street facing townhouse. “Uhh–oh yeah! It's not how well you walked through the fire, but how you walked through it regardless.” 
“I think I'm just barely crawling through the flames right now–” You answered honestly. There wasn't a nice way to say he’d looked better than he did right now, with sunken eyes and skin that looked as if all the life had been drained from his soul. 
So you never mentioned it. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“So—“ The library wasn’t Jake Seresins favourite place to go, but there was someone who made the isles of hard covered literature easier to understand that always seemed to draw him in. Like a moth to a flame. “Did you have a good Christmas?” The silence that followed as you stared across the desk where you were processing returned textbooks had Jake's heart racing, he couldn’t read you and that fact made him all the more nervous. “Or not? If you’re Jewish maybe? Don’t celebrate Christmas that’s cool too I just thought—“ You had to giggle at the college football star standing across from the reception desk with his elbows leaning on the ledge. Your smile was pure happiness, it wasn’t hard to make Jake's heart melt inside his chest—a chest he once thought was hollow. 
“I had a wonderful Christmas, I went home to visit my mum, she always says that if the Christians can steal Christmas from the pagans then us non-religious folk can celebrate too.” You shrugged your shoulders politely as you kept checking off the returned textbooks from students who’d taken them home over the summer. 
“What do you mean when you say the Christians stole Christmas?” Jake Seresin grew up in an incredibly conservative, extremely religious household that attended church every Sunday rain hail or shine. Jake swore his mother nearly spontaneously combusted when he had to stay in hospital overnight after having his appendix removed. It was a Saturday afternoon when they’d presented to the emergency room—poor old Janeen nearly dropped dead at the mere thought of her ten year old missing church the next morning. 
“Lord have mercy upon us, for we have sinned.” Jake could still remember his mother crying vividly when he woke after surgery. Even at ten he knew his mother was somewhat of an overly sensitive soul. 
“Well technically, in order to convert the Germanic pagans who, like, celebrated the winter solstice and stuff—the Christians were like, fuck it, let’s just say that Jesus was born on this day and you can hang tinsel and stuff.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders like it was common knowledge, but as Jake stared down at you with confusion swirling in his emerald eyes, you thought for a split second that maybe this was actually news to the college athlete who’d been following you around for the better half of nine months. Respectfully. 
“You can’t just change someone’s birthday like that? Can you?” Jake, in all his years of attending Sunday services, Sunday Schools, being forced to read the bible and knowing far too much about parting seas and burning bushes, he’d never once been told that Christmas was just a day. 
“It’s kinda like how King James was rewriting the bible on one side of the castle and had witches trying to turn his pee into gold on the other.” Jake was speechless as you looked up at him from your chair, your eyes seemingly swirling with knowledge beyond your years. It made sense that you worked in the library on campus. 
“How the hell do you know all this?” Jake asked through a sheepish smile he couldn’t hide, your intelligence intimated him in the best of ways. You made him want to do better, be better, strive for more in life. It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t smart, he was. But next to you? It was an unparalleled excellence. 
“I uh—I tend to read a lot.” Jake caught the way you faded into yourself, never one to want to outshine others. “Just get lost in here sometimes, books are sometimes easier to understand than people.” Jake could sympathise with that sentiment, he knew what it was like to feel like everyone was watching, judging a book by its cover so to speak. Everyone knew him as the meathead footballer who’s weekends were spent racking up the body count. 
But with you? Jake just felt like Jake. Because that’s who he was to you. Simply and forever Jake. 
“Do you like, not believe in God or something Miss Y/l/n?” Jake asked cautiously. He didn’t want to offend you or come across as rude or anything—he was simply asking a question he thought he may need to know if he was ever going to introduce you to his mother. 
“I find it hard to believe in a world full of stories about Gods and Goddesses from a plethora of different perspectives that there can only be one, if one exists they all have to right? Harmoniously and complacent with the way the universe has fallen to shit without their divine intervention.” Jake had to take a moment to take what you had just said in. He was almost rendered speechless, but not quite. Not Jake Seresin. 
“Damn Honeybee, you’re fucking fearless aren’t you?“ Jake couldn’t help but to smirk as he tried to keep his voice down. “You’re just raw doggin’ life with no religious affiliations.” It was then your turn to laugh. 
“Guess I am. What about you? Do you believe in a God? An all mighty man, or woman, that sits in the clouds and judges your every action?” You asked with a teasing smirk as Jake bit his bottom lip, mulling over your question: 
Did he believe in God? 
“My mother would probably prefer if I said yes, but, the more I look at life without the rose coloured glasses I tend to think perhaps the big guy in the sky is all just some story.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“Did you know hair holds memories.” The sound of buzzing clippers echoed off the walls of the bathroom as you sat before the mirror. Jake stood behind you with those big emerald eyes you loved so dearly, looking at you with a sympathetic look of understanding and support. “In some cultures people don't even cut their hair because it would upset the gods.” Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror, understandably rambling to somewhat buy yourself some more time. “Medusa's hair was alive, there's certain styles linked to different cultures and full hair cutting ceremonies in–” If Jake didn't interrupt now you would have gone on forever. You had a habit of information dropping in situations where nervousness got the better of you. Not that Jake ever minded, he just knew if he didn't get ahead of it, you wouldn't stop. That would ultimately lead to you sitting in silence when the information swirling around inside her head had all been said. Panic would begin to rise inside your chest, the air would soon get thin, the room would suddenly get a little hotter and before you could even realise you'd be in the midst of a full blown panic attack. 
The last time Jake witnessed such a thing was when Sam had colic. 
“Honey–” Jake cooed as he turned off the clippers he held in his hand, only to place them down on the countertop to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Noone is forcing you to do this, if you don’t wanna cut your hair we don't have to.” 
“No–” You sighed. “No, I want to do this, it's just a lot.” You tried to explain. “It's probably one of the only things I still have control over.” Jake understood, it would be hard not to. After all, he wasn't heartless. If he could Jake would have taken this all away, he would have given anything, including his own life to take your pain away. “I just hope I don't have a weird shaped head.” 
“I'm sure you have a really nice scalp dear.” Jake chuckled as he massaged your shoulder tenderly. “And look, if you want my professional opinion, I think you’ll make an awesome live action Mrs. Potato Head.” 
“Jacob!” You tried to hide your smile as you felt your cheek heating with a hume so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re cruel!” 
“But I made you laugh.” Jake countered through a shit eating grin, that signature Seresin smile you loved so much. The very one all three of your children had inherited from their father. “That's all that matters, now–let me work my magic alright, I've got you.” 
“You’re probably a worse hairdresser than you were a husband–” It was a low ball, but Jake took it like a champ as he reached out for the clippers. The buzzing was almost immediate as he used the pad of his thumbs to complete the electrical circuit. With the tool now in full gear, Jake chuckled as he looked at you with fake shock and horror casted across his face. 
“Oh now who's being cruel huh?” Jake watched as your eyes followed his hand that held the clippers. “Technically we’re still married Honey, you still have my last name.” He mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear, seemingly trying to keep your attention on what he was saying rather than the clippers approaching your head. 
But–you moved:
“Should we cut my hair with scissors first?” 
“Y/n–” Jake sighed as he once again turned off the clippers and placed them back down on the side of the sink. 
“No no no I'm not trying to stall, I just don't want you to accidentally scalp me when my hair gets caught up in the shaver.” Jake saw your point, for the hair you did have left it was pretty thick and full of life still. He held the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Not in frustration towards you, but in defiance of his new quest. 
“I'll go ask the nurses station for some scissors.” 
“Thankyou–” Was all you managed to say back before Jake stepped out of the bathroom attached to your hospital room. The Christmas lights still flickered in the dimly lit room, seemingly consuming the entire room in bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Even in sickness you couldn't help but to lean into the christmas cheers. 
It hit Jake in that moment as he rounded out of your hospital room that he should get you something small to open when you wake up from surgery. The hospital has a gift shop right? Perhaps some flowers and a small gift you could keep with you during chemo. Maybe a book or a– *Thud* 
Caught up in his own train of thought as he made his way to the nurses station, Jake ran straight into someone coming out of the elevator. There were two very distinct things Jake noticed as he came back into the reality around him. Those distinct things being that the man he’d run into was carrying not only flowers, but a small gift. Huh, uncanny. 
“Sorry man, my bad.” The man apologised almost immediately after the mild impact. 
“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” Jake responded with a polite smile his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” Jake reached out to shake the guy's hand, in retrospect he should have kept walking. Jake really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions. 
The most paranoid fantasy Jake could think of would never have prepared him for the name that the man spoke next as he took Jake's hand in his. 
“Jensen–” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“Okay, I'm ready.” Neither Jake nor Jensen knew if you had mentioned either one in conversation, so, respectfully, both men chose to play the fool. Neither one really wanted to ask. Neither Jake nor Jensen wanted to be the one to open that can of worms. 
When Jake returned with the borrowed scissors in his grasp–he acted as if he hadn’t just met the man he assumed was the very Jensen in your contacts. 
“Last chance Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Are you positive?” He asked with a smile so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m all in with you, just say the word and we do whatever you wanna do.” 
There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Jake's questions lingered in the air around you, it was hard not to get caught in the moment, get lost in the emerald eyes looking at you through the mirror. Jake stared you down as you shifted in your chair to look at him. He saw no hesitation in your eyes as Jake followed your gaze, searching for any sign or signal that could indicate that the next few moments were about to be a mistake. 
“Honey—“ Jake tried to heed the warning lights flashing before his very eyes as you closed the gap between the two of you. Jake stood leaning over your right shoulder, looking longingly at your lips. “Don’t do anything stupid now.” 
“Loving you is stupidity—“ Was all you said before you let your lips softly connect with your husband’s. Jake kissed you back with enough love in his heart to knock the wind right out of your lungs. The fleeting moment was broken, however, when Jake pulled away. The idea of another man kissing you on his mind, what was this guy's deal? Jackson? Jason? 
“Come on Mrs Potato Head, hand me those scissors—“ Jake chuckled, hiding his own insecurities about the man he’d unintentionally met in the hall. You took a second to keep up, but as you licked your lips to savour the taste of Jake's signature vanilla chapstick, you nodded and handed him the scissors. 
“I’m ready.” You sighed, once again looking back at your own reflection. “Let’s get this over with.” Change is an inevitable part of life, but that fact didn't make the current circumstances any easy to process. “Do you think that there's gonna be a place for me despite my inability to believe in a higher being?” Jake understood what you were saying, but he didn't have the answers. “I'm starting to wonder more about if there could ever be a life after death.” 
Clumps of hair in small sections fell to the tiled floor around you as Jake worked his hands through your hair. Cutting strands from your head like the local mower man cut grass. It felt like such a mundane task to complete, like this was an everyday run of the mill, average experience. But for you? This was a hard and confronting pill to have to swallow. 
“I’ve spent my whole life not believing in religion, so who am I supposed to pray to to keep me alive Jake?” Jake saw the tears in your eyes as he cut your hair with caution and steady hands, he heard the small but audible sobs that escaped your lips as he switched from the scissors to the clippers. The buzzing all but silenced your cries but Jake knew this was hard on you. The tears that stained your cheeks clearly reflected your sadness, anger and the inner turmoil that had been engulfing your entire existence since your diagnosis.
“You don’t pray to anyone Honey, you’re stronger than this cancer could ever be.” Again, no one ever sits you down and prepares you for this. No one gives you the heads up about the possibility of one day having to shave your wife's hair off in the name of dignity and control. But as Jake ran the shavers across your scalp, leaving nothing but a small layer of fuzz in their wake, he saw just how much sorrow and pain was swirling in your eyes. 
Jake thought to himself in that very moment: ‘I've been needing a haircut for a while now anyway.’ 
With one quick motion and in the blink of an eye, Jake was running the shavers right down the middle of his head. You really had to take a second to process what he’d just done, what your husband had just done right behind you. 
“Jake!” The shrill that escaped your mouth was something unmatched to any emotion you had ever expressed before. “What are you doing?” The image of Jake shaving his head in solidarity would forever be burnt into your mind. 
“You said it yourself–hair holds memories and we can make new ones together.” Jake cooed as he shaved off those golden boy locks you loved to run your fingers through. He suited the buzz cut a little more than you did if you were being perfectly honest. 
With teary eyes and puffy cheeks you stood on weak legs. The simple gesture of a haircut meant the world to you, Jake knew that. He didn't want you going through this alone. If shaving his head with you brought you a sense of solace? He was more than happy to. 
“Looks good–” You smiled as tears ran down your cheeks. Jake reached out to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with the pads on his thumbs. “Mr. Potato head.”
“Consider us the founders of the Potato Head Society.” Jake chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In order to cherish you the way you deserved, Jake had to be the bigger man here. He knew that a cloud of uncertainty loomed in the halls, one by the name of Jackson or fucking Jeremy for all Jake cared. But as he stood in the bathroom with you, surrounded in the locks of hair that had once been on your head, he knew damn well at the end of the day it was still his last name you chose to take. “Good thing you don't have an odd shaped head after all, it kinda suits you.” 
“Would you still love me if I did?” You asked quietly, giving Jake an excuse to confess his love. Jake's lips were soon pressed softly and ever so tenderly against your once again in the blink of an eye as gentle hands still worked to soothe your stained cheeks. 
It wasn’t a hard question to answer, nor an easy question to ask—but as Jake pulled away to rest his forehead on yours as he ran the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, you knew it was an easy concept to understand: 
“I’ve never, and I will never, stop loving you Honey.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
For as much as Jensen hated all things hospital related, over his past few years of treatment, he’d come to know these halls better than he knew the back of his own hand. 
From countless radiation treatments, to endless chemotherapy sessions. Hours upon hours of remedial therapies and acupuncture sessions to stimulate nerve endings, Jensen was a man who was just about ready to pull the plug and live out the remaining few months he had, or less, from the comfort of his back deck. 
He’d been poked and prodded, sliced and diced, far too many times to count on both his hands and for what? A few extra months tacked on top of a few years spent battling pancreatic cancer. No thankyou. Jensen had always had an optimistic outlook on life, until his life started to become the same bland halls and the same bland rooms, with the same bland doctors and nurses who all shared the same look of medical sympathy. 
Jesen, for all intents and purposes, was ready to give up his signature status of being the resistant ‘pin cushion’. The student nurses could learn how to change cannula sights on the lady, Paola, who sat in the same chair for every chemotherapy session. 
The last few days hadnt been too hot for the six foot one, brown eyed, brown haired (allegedly) man. His prognosis had been diminishing ever since he got the news his treatment was no longer as effective as it once had been. 
The day Jensen was told he only had a few short months to live before his organs would begin to fail, even with treatment, was the same day he saw you crying outside the local doctors office. The Hermitage centre as they called it. 
The last thing Jensen ever wanted was for his life to be meaningless, before he knew what he was doing? His feet were padding against the concrete as the psalm of his hands began to sweat inside his jean pockets. 
“You look like you’ve just been told you’re dying?”  As the elevator counted up the floors of which Jensen had to take from the ground floor of the Rhode Island Hospital to the oncology unit, he could vividly remember asking you that question. He recognised the look on your face because not ten minutes prior he;d been told the very same thing. 
“I'd start to get your affairs in order, Mr. Hughs “ It hadn't been just a regular check up with his local general practitioner. But it had been the almost final nail in a long awaited coffin. 
As the elevator dinged, Jensen took a few steps out into the bustling hallways of the oncology ward. Within seconds, he was met with a force so muscular it damn near knocked him back a few paces. But the cancer ridden ex fireman squared his shoulders and kept easy on his feet. 
“Sorry man, my bad.” Jensen almost immediately apologies after the mild impact. He assumed that it was him that had caused the slight collision. His special awareness was pretty shot these days. The flowers he carried were almost crushed on impact, however he managed to save the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies. 
“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” The man responded with a polite smile Jensen could only assume his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” like a slow motion car wreck, Jake reached out to shake Jensens hand. In retrospect he should have kept walking. Jensen really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions. 
The most paranoid fantasy Jensen could think of would never have prepared him for the look of utter betrayal that smeared itself across the blonde headed aviators face as Jensen shook your husbands hand: 
“Jensen–”
***~***~***~***~***~***~
Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog
@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb
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khuzena · 21 days
Text
Friends
Jing yuan x g/n!reader
Summary: The xianzhou citizens don't often indulge in romance, to love is to one day see yourself fall into the embrace of mara— to let your lover witness it. Some still love, some deny themselves of such feelings.
Cw. Angst, unrequited love (not really), getting drunk, mixed signals, implied sexual stuff and a little bit of that but they don't actually do it (i think), no fluff no comfort because that shit is for the weak
A/n: Did I cry writing this? Yes. Was it worth it? I don't know.
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Love.
noun
an intense feeling of deep affection.
He wonders if you ever noticed how he felt about you. Lingering gazes lasting deeper than it should, ‘accidental’ brushes against your hand or how he finds himself dropping everything he's doing just to be with you.
“Jing yuan, your move.”
Your words snap him back to reality, he awkwardly bit his lip, his focus back on the board. Right.
He wonders as he moves his piece two tiles forward, would you ever get wind of these growing feelings of his? If you did,
“Checkmate.”
Would you feel the same?
A light chuckle leaves his lips, the sight of your frustrated expression ingrained in his mind, like every memory he has of you.
A loud slam echoed in the room, “How do you always win?”
“You make brash decisions on the board,” Jing yuan backtracks the pieces before the soul-crushing checkmate, he positioned your pieces, “It should've gone here, you could've blocked my move.”
An exasperated sigh escapes you, clamping chunks of your hair frustratedly after realising you could've won, “I hate you.”
The man laughs as he tidies up the table, eyes still trained on you.
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He doesn't know how and why you both ended up in this position.
Your relationship was complicated.
He doesn't understand you.
Sometimes you'd hold his hand, tell him all your secrets like he were a priest at a confessional, take care of him and everything of the like.
Yet, you always pushed him away. He'd sit right beside you, looking over your shoulder to read the novel you recently took interest in. As if he were a bug, you'd swat him away for being too close.
“Ji, don't get too close. I'm melting from the heat.” you say, but it was winter?
He doesn't understand love at all.
He loves mimi, he loves starchess, he loves his family (the high-cloud quintet, or should I say, ex-family), he loves tea, he loves his home.
Sometimes you two would go out to the library, indulging in me-time, faces buried in pages.
“Jing yuan, have you found a book about that one novel I told you about?” He shook his head no, he doesn't indulge in fictional work that often. But you loved novels.
“I think I found it.” He wipes the dust off the book spine. ‘How to fall in love with a genius’, what a strange book title.
“Really?” quietly tiptoeing towards his direction, the library lady eyeing you two; you had a habit of making too much noise, leading to the bookkeeper scolding you both.
“Here,” he blew over the cover, dust particles puffing in your face.
“Bastard—” words barely audible as you spoke in-between coughs, “Thanks though”
The bookkeeper glaring at you two, sending shivers down your spine. The idiot laughs again, you slap his back.
You both get kicked out.
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Friends don't get drunk together, friends don't cuddle, friend's don't do this.
Like ‘friends’, you cling to him in his bed, head nuzzled in his neck. Jing yuan was scared to hug you or even dare to hold your waist.
He can only get a taste of heaven but never the real thing, you can hug him yet when he reciprocates he's too close.
He envies at how audacious you are. That you're not afraid to hold him like he's yours but he could never call you his. How you could just stare at him with those loving resplendent eyes but he could never stare longer at yours.
This time however, he wishes he slept in, he wishes he told you he was busy, that he doesn't want to hang out today.
One drink turned to two, two drinks turned to three. More, more and more, until you're on top of him, all of him you can see.
“Ji.”
How cruel you are. Straddled on his lap as he was laid against the pearly sheets of his bed, your eyes devoid of light as your free hand tug on the hem of his shirt, “Jing yuan, I'm sorry”
You cried again, gripping his shirt tightly. Why can't he push you away?
Tears spill out as you desperately wanted to love him, as he did too. But was it really love?
“I love you.” he accidentally slips out.
Your eyes widened in fear, you tried to convince yourself you didn't hear anything as you grind your hips on his lap, croaking out a guttural moan.
“Please,” you grinded faster, your hips burning, you prayed to god that what you heard was a lie, that you misheard him.
He groans in desperation, hands on your hips, “I really love you.”
Without a second thought, as if you were sober, you swatted his hand away and got off his lap. He stares at you like you were a madman— why did you suddenly stop?
He wishes he was drunk enough to indulge in you that night, but sober enough to have never said that.
He sat up, his hand reaching out for you but you swat it away again, “Stop.”
A sob stuck in his throat, heavy breaths drowning out the wanton moans from earlier.
“I…”
He wishes he never even loved you in the first place.
Tomorrow came, those lingering gazes on each other no more, those playful banters dissipated into thin air.
He can't bring himself to confront you, too scared to accept what's become to the two of you.
“Ji— General. Documents from Madam Yukong”
The way your eyes dart to anything but him, he bit his lip anxiously, “Yes, thank you. You may leave now.”
As if nothing happened last night, you bowed your head and ran away as quickly as possible. Does he even have the courage to ask you for another game of starchess?
Days passed yet no progress. Your relationship has turned into a strictly professional one. So cold to each other, yanqing and fu xuan can't wrap their hands around what could've happened but they don't have it in them to ask what happened.
The general signed paperwork, like usual. Not noticing loud thumping footsteps nearing his desk.
“General,” a part of him wished it was your voice.
“Yes yanqing?”
“They've turned in their resignation paper”
Oh. Huh?
He thinks yanqing is joking. Not when his dear retainer thrusts the documents to his hand does he realise he's really lost you.
“For what exactly?” he asks as if he doesn't know the answer.
Yanqing sighs, “I'm not sure either, but they talked about retiring.”
“They're too young to retire,” the man scratched his head, his mind racing with a million thoughts and a million regrets.
“General, they're 630 years old”
“Oh right,” he gave his retainer a weak smile, hoping the young boy doesn't notice the uneasiness in his eyes when he read through the contents, “I shall talk to them before I approve their resignation. You may leave.”
Yanqing nods, taking his leave as Jing yuan trembles. He's lost the high-cloud quintet, does fate have to take you too in its stride, far away from him?
He was okay with just being friends with you.
Jing yuan called for you in his private garden, he didn't expect you to actually come especially after that.
“You came.”
“You called,” your eyes as empty as that one night.
He tried his best to hold back the tears, heart burning yet he had to remain professional. After all, he was your boss.
“Yanqing brought me your resignation request.” he pauses, unable to find the right words.
Normally, if an employee of his decides to resign, he'd sign away their request and carry on with his life but this— how could he just sign so easily?
“Have you not signed it yet?”
“No.” he can't bring himself to.
Your fingers found solace under the table, fiddling and fidgeting together but you'd rather die than let the man in front of you notice it, “Can't you just sign it?”
“It's just… you've been working with me since the high-cloud quintet and it's not that easy.”
“How so?”
“We’d lose an important member of society, your contributions to the mechanical team have been beneficial,” he tapped his foot aggressively, agitated. “Can't you think twice about it?”
Without hesitation, “I can't. I'm getting old, sooner or later I'd die—”
He listens, not interrupting you, “— I don't want to die without living.”
Living? What a lie. You've been more alive by his side more than anything.
“What exactly do you mean by living?”
He pretends to not understand, he wishes you'd just take him into consideration and talk to him like he was Jing yuan, not the general arbiter.
“You know what I mean,” the air sucked out of your lungs, why did he have to make you say it out loud?
“I want to live. I want to be finally free of my duties, get married, and retire.”
He nodded along with your words, he felt sick. Sicker than he ever was in his life.
“I wish you told me sooner”
“What good would it bring?”
“I just wished you were honest from the start.”
The words were once stuck again in your throat, trying to blink nonstop to not let those pathetic tears spill out, “This is for me—”
“What about me?”
Desperation laced in his tone, he wishes you'd give him a chance, that you'd let him in.
“What about you?”
You wonder, what about him? He wants to ask, what about us?
“This is about me,” neither of you could find the words, but you try.
“I want to live,” forlorn, not a glimmer of hope in your eyes, he wishes on a sliver of hope, “Is that too much to ask?”
Yet life is cruel. It was a mistake trying to be more than friends with you, again; he wished he stayed as friends with you. He would have been fine with anything.
For your own good, “I understand.”
Jing yuan reluctantly took his pen, staring at the paper. He signed.
“Thank you.”
He signed you away, at least now, there's no more need for formalities. He is no longer your boss, he is just jing yuan to you.
“I… “ his mouth snapped shut.
“No more words, general?”
As selfish as it sounds, he wants to tell you that he's willing to leave this life behind. That if you want to live, he'll live with you, if you want to marry, he'll marry you. If you want to retire, he'll retire with you.
But duty calls, he can't just stop being ‘general arbiter’ in a heartbeat for you. He wishes he could.
It's not that hot outside today, but he feels like burning.
“Ah, nothing. Where will you go now?”
“It doesn't matter, I'll just go somewhere, live alone or maybe start a new life.”
“I wish luck for your future endeavours.”
Jing yuan has never been selfish. This time however, he wishes he wasn't the general. He wishes he was just a normal man, he wishes he had the privilege, that he had the choice to be your man.
You could no longer handle being under this suffocating atmosphere, “Can I leave now?”
“By all means.”
That was the last time he talked to you, he wonders, he wishes, that he was anyone but him. Not even he could have foreseen this.
When your footsteps grew quieter as you were farther away from him, he cried.
It's been long since he's cried… years, centuries perhaps.
He's lost his family, he's lost you too. All because he wanted to be more than friends.
He wonders if you cried too, if you'd come back. It's for the best.
In due time, one of you will turn mara struck. He doesn't have the heart to see you in that state. But he wishes you gave him the chance to love you, even for just two years. A year or two is all he needs to be content.
None of that matters, he wipes his tears. Reporting back to the seat of divine foresight.
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Note: not proofread so dont laugh. 😔😔😔 Before one of you bitches say, who hurt you, who hurt you? No, this is just me projecting with my cupioromantic and aromantic tendencies. ITS SO COMMON TO SEE MC BEING THE ONE GETTING REJECTEd BUT NOT THE CHARACTER GETTING REJECTED I NEED MORE FICS WITH THIS PLOT GRRRRR 😟. ITS 3:16 AM FUCK SLEEP FUCK IT ALL GRRRR
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 
148 notes · View notes
niningtori · 27 days
Text
see me | chapter four: together (final)
pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: after another failed relationship, you're ready to accept your fate as hopeless. choi beomgyu has other plans, though. or, beomgyu s your best friend's little brother and he's tired of you treating him like a kid.
genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending, best friend's brother au
word count: 3.4k (whoa)
notes: hi friends! happy easter to all who celebrate!! sorry this took me a bit to get out. i just love this story and this beomgyu so much i didn't want to rush it. i hope you're all satisfied with how this ends. see end of work for more notes :)
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you're so out of it jia can't fucking take it anymore. 
"hello? come back to earth, please," she says, waving her hand in front of your face. "are you ever gonna tell me what the fuck happened with doyoon?"
it's been a few days since your return from the beach. suffice it to say, one painfully awkward drive was spent with you trying not to openly stare at beomgyu and him focusing intently on the scenery outside. 
you're actually a little surprised by her question. you genuinely haven't thought about your conversation with doyoon since you had it — you've simply been too preoccupied by the revelation that beomgyu has feelings for you.
"nothing much, really. he apologized to me and asked to get a drink sometime."
"what the fuck?! what did you say?!" 
"i said no," you reply simply. she's quiet for a moment before her face contorts into a deep frown.
"why do i get the feeling that that's not what's bothering you so much?" 
"because it's not," you admit with a sigh.
"then what is it? you've been weird ever since we got back."
you're torn for a while. how do you explain to your best friend that her kid brother is in love with you? or says he is, at least. 
"... it's about beomgyu. he—"
"oh, so he finally told you, huh?" she interrupts with a knowing look and you're absolutely flabbergasted.
"t-told me what?" you try feigning ignorance. maybe she's got it wrong?
"that he's been in love with you ever since he first saw you."
"how the fuck did you know that?!" you ask incredulously.
"you're my best friend and he's my brother. i know you two too well," she shrugs.
"so you knew this whole time and didn't tell me?" 
"well, to be honest, it was painfully obvious, but i didn't wanna embarrass either of you and it's, frankly, none of my business."
"i... wasn't he just drunk? i don't believe it…” you trail off.
"what do you mean?"
"i mean, he can't really mean it. he doesn't know what he wants. he's just a kid and—" 
"i'm going to stop you right there," she says sternly. "you may be oblivious, but don't you dare dismiss his feelings to make yourself feel comfortable. his feelings are real and he doesn't deserve to have you completely disregard them just because you can't face them." you flinch at her harshness.
"b-but he's never even hinted at it!" 
"never even hinted at it, my ass. that boy was all over you," she snorts. "did you really not notice anything this past week?" your eyebrows knit in confusion as you think back to all of the times the boy (man?) had interacted with you. suddenly, the unassuming touches and glances beomgyu shared with you hit you at a mile a minute. oh god, he was flirting? he was, wasn't he? and you just ruffled his hair and called him cute. 
but you're not done denying, denying, denying.
"i just don't understand. how could he like me when he's always with somebody new?"
"has it ever occurred to you that that's because he wants you to see him as a man and not the child you're so convinced he is?" you fall silent at this. no, it has never occurred to you, but now that she's said it, the puzzle pieces are starting to fit together in the most gut wrenching way.
"so he's been fucking around for years because he wants to prove something to me?"
"more or less, yeah." your head is spinning at this. so his feelings are sincere? 
"i... i don't know what to say."
"i figured you wouldn't," she hums.
"what do i do?" you ask with a newfound sense of panic. this is real. beomgyu actually love, loves you. 
"well, what do you want to do? it all depends on how you feel about him." 
"to be honest, i've never seen him as anything other than a brother," you sigh.
"and what about now?"
"i... i don't know. i'm just confused," you whine, digging your face into your hands and slightly tugging on your hair. when you think of the kiss you two shared, your heart skips a beat and butterflies arise in your stomach. well, that's new.
"honestly, i'll consider that progress. it's better than being brother-zoned." 
"jia!" you exclaim exasperatedly. "you're not helping. the boy i've thought of as a literal brother is in love with me and i've unknowingly treated him like shit for years." 
"yes, but i know and he knows that you didn’t mean it. look, even if you don't like him at all, don't you think he deserves a proper rejection at the very least?"
"you're right," you relent. "you’re always right.”
“well, i know,” she muses. “but before you decide anything, i want you to think about who’s been by your side all these years. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on?”
“i —” you begin. 
“don’t answer yet. just think about it.” and think about it, you do.
-
the more time you’re left to think about what happened with him, the more confused you feel. beomgyu isn’t a child anymore, that much is clear, but does that mean you can undo the near decade of thinking of him as one? he’s handsome, sure, and that kiss nearly knocked you off of your feet, but can you really see him as a partner? as a man?
you’re not really sure. plus, what would happen if it didn’t work out? the choi’s are like family to you. they’re more of a family than your actual family ever was or ever will be. is it really worth gambling such an important piece of your heart for something that could easily end in heartbreak? but then, it’s broken, either way. can you really face the choi family again when you know beomgyu is in love with you and has been for such a long time? no, you can’t. not in good conscience. you’ve, intentionally or not, ignored beomgyu’s feelings for years now and you can’t ask him to bottle them back up for your own comfort.
you decide it's best to just talk to him. 
-
beomgyu doesn’t think that this is a good idea at all, actually. but his friends told him that rotting in his bed and crying like he has been for the past few days is even worse. when they put it like that, it didn't seem right to refuse their suggestion to have a double date with yeonjun. even still, he told them he wasn't ready to see someone new, but they said he was never seeing you in the first place. that sure shut him up. either way, it would be casual and yeonjun just needs a friend for his date's friend.
his "date" is nice enough, but she seems to have not gotten the memo that he's here as a wingman and not much else. she's trying to draw his attention by not-so-discreetly placing her hand on his thigh. gross. he genuinely thought about pretending to have a stomachache to cut the date short, but yeonjun had the bright idea of inviting the girls over after dinner. so now, as he sits on the couch of his and yeonjun’s shared apartment, he prays for god to intervene and end his suffering. 
a knock on the door pulls him out of his thoughts. please, god, let it be the maintenance man telling them they have to evacuate because of a gas leak. he almost jumps out of his seat to get to the door first, but yeonjun is closer and he says he’ll get it. fuck. before he can catch a glimpse of the mystery person at the door, his date speaks again.
“gyu?” the girl asks tentatively.
“mmm?” he says, turning back around to face her.
“do you like me?” she says while, once again, putting her hand on his thigh. alright. enough is enough. usually, he would tell her to beat it and leave it at that, but ever since you told him he doesn’t treat girls the nicest, he’s decided he’ll try to be better. he takes her hand from his lap into his and opts to just be truthful. 
“to be honest, i —” 
“beomie?”
oh, he’d recognize that voice anywhere, even in his sleep. his head whips around almost comically fast and he unintentionally yanks his hand from his date's as he stands straight up.
“w-what are you doing here?” he asks, incredibly flustered.
you should say something, but your eyes can’t help but linger where his hand was joined with the hand of the very lovely girl sitting beside him, even after he’s pulled away. oh my god. you’re interrupting, aren’t you? he’s moved on, but you’re standing there like an idiot. you need to say something. 
“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude,” you choke out. you don’t know why, but you feel like you’re about to cry. you feel so embarrassed. why did you even for a second think that this would play out any differently? 
“everybody out,” beomgyu says firmly. 
“what?” his date asks, genuinely in shock.
“i said, everybody else needs to get out of here. right now. besides you,” he says while gesturing to your pitiful frame.
“gyu, i live here,” yeonjun argues.
“out,” beomgyu repeats. yeonjun lifts his hands in surrender and leads the bewildered girls out of the apartment. 
now it's just you and beomgyu.
after the door shuts, the silence is as unbearable as it is palpable. beomgyu is staring at you with the same intensity as he was the night he confessed to you. you feel so vulnerable — so seen — you honestly kind of wish you had just snuck out with everyone else. 
“beomie, i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to ruin your date. i can go, i just —” 
“do you know what i've noticed about you?” he quietly interrupts. you’re so taken aback, you’re stunned into silence. he sighs before he continues. “the way you say things are okay when someone fucks you over. it’s okay to be mad at me, you know?” 
“beomie, i’m not mad!” you insist. “you’re single, after all. i’m the one who —”
“i’m single, but i still told you i loved you a few days ago. why wouldn’t you be hurt?” once again, you’re left speechless at his maturity. when did he become more mature than you? or was he always this way, and you just never noticed?
“or is it that you just don’t care enough about me to be upset?” he's the one who looks small now and you worry you have the power to break him. he deserves an honest answer, so you think about how you felt when you saw his hand intertwined with that girl’s and your heart feels a nasty pang. 
“i… i am upset,” you pause and process that ugly feeling. “really upset, actually. but not angry.”
“i’m sorry,” he says, not without conviction. “yeonjun needed a date for his date’s friend, and i planned on rejecting her, but i’m really sorry i hurt you.” 
“... it’s alright,” you say carefully. “i understand. and i still think you don’t owe me anything, beomie.”
“but i want to owe you,” he says quietly.
“what do you mean?” you can’t help but ask. 
“i want to owe you. i want to make it up to you, and i want you to make it up to me.” you think you understand what he means. he wants you to make it up to him for not seeing him as he truly is all these years, but you just can’t understand his thinking.
“why?” you ask softly.
“why would you ask when you already know why?” he answers quietly with a sad smile. because he loves you.
“but why? why do you like me? you could have anyone. i’m wishy washy, i’m insecure. i’m just a mess, beomie. and i don’t want you to waste your time with me.” you hate the way your voice shakes. you wish, for once in your life, that you could be brave enough to say what you need to say without hesitating. you feel as small as a child, and in front of beomgyu of all people. but the dynamic you’ve always thought you had is becoming more and more twisted as you realize you’ve been very, very wrong about him, and maybe about yourself, too. beomgyu is not some kid. his feelings are not so easily written off, and that becomes even clearer when he says his next words in a haste. 
“don’t talk about yourself like that,” he says sharply, and his seriousness immediately derails your train of thought. “i’m not looking for anybody else. i… i don’t want anybody else. and i would never, ever feel like my time is wasted with you. every moment i spend with you is important to me.” you don’t mean for your eyes to get hot. truly, you don’t, but the boy’s words are so kind you’re unable to control yourself. 
“you really love me?” you ask at the risk of seeming annoying. you just have to be sure. 
“i do,” he says patiently. “i always have.” he isn’t sure what to make of you asking this. he has no hope now, but if it makes you feel better to hear him say he loves you a million times over, so be it. you’ve been hurt enough all your life, from your parents to your partners, if he’s able to comfort you even just a little bit, even if it’s never reciprocated, it’s enough for him. so he continues. 
“i’m… i’ve always thought about how to say this, so i’m sorry if it’s just too much for you. if it is, then just stop me, okay?” you can’t help but nod. “i just have to say that, to me, you are the most beautiful person in the world. i’ve wanted to tell you that since i was 14. i know you’re sad and i know you’ve been hurt before, and i wish i could take it all away. i’ve always wished i could take it all away. i know you think you deserve everything that’s happened to you so far, but i want you to know that that's not true, and it kills me that you’ve ever felt that way. i love everything you say you hate about yourself, because you’re you. i know you want to change, and i want you to know that i see how hard you’re trying. those flaws that make you a mess, or however you put it, only make me love you more because i can see how hard you’ve worked to get where you are. and if you don’t love me, even if you never do, that’s… it's okay. i just want you to be happy. and if i can be selfish, i want to be the one who helps you get there.” 
you don’t try to stifle your tears anymore. they are now flowing freely and your breath is heavy in your throat. he understands you. he sees you for everything that you are and were, and everything that you’re trying to be. has anyone ever made you feel this safe before? has anyone ever made you feel this loved and understood? 
you think back to what jia asked. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on? if you didn’t trust any man in the world, you could trust beomgyu. that’s just how it is. you realize, even from the first night you met him, you’ve always been relying on him, in a way. why else would you feel so comfortable telling him about your anxieties mere hours after you spoke to him for the first time? 
things were one way then, but they could be different now. beomgyu loves you in a way that previously seemed inconceivable to you. what did you do to deserve this boy — this man? not a fucking thing, in your opinion, but now that you know how he really feels, is it possible to accept anything less than the love he is now presenting to you? maybe he’ll wake up one day and regret everything he’s said up until now, but you’re far too selfish to give up the heart he’s begging for you to take as your own.
you don’t know why, but you fling yourself into his arms, reminiscent of how you did all those years ago when he was just a teenage boy and you were just a heartbroken girl. he holds you like he did before, with an overwhelming sense of patience and security. he traces his hands lovingly up and down your back. 
“okay. okay, i want to try. i can’t promise that i’ll be perfect, i can’t even promise to be good, but i’ll try, okay? you’re so, so good, beomie. and i'm sorry for not realizing it sooner.”
he pulls away from your embrace and your cheeks feel hot when you catch his heated gaze. he looks down at you and if his look wasn’t enough, his next words certainly are:
“can i kiss you?”
“yes, beomie,” you whisper. 
"call me gyu," he says hoarsely. you gulp and pray he doesn't hear it.
he softly, reverently, pushes your stray hairs behind your ears and you realize he’s done so many times before. mainly when you were sad, but this time is… different. when his lips lock with yours, you're stunned into oblivion. there's so much fire behind it, but still, there’s a gentleness you’ve never known. as if he’s afraid of breaking you, he holds you like you’re a precious gem. usually, kisses are take take take from you, but he gives you so much love and care you feel like you’re floating. is this what love is supposed to feel like? so safe and so, so warm? 
he parts from you far too soon for your liking. his breath is labored and his cheeks are flushed. you look at him in confusion.
“i-i’m sorry, i just can't. if we keep going, i won't be able to control myself. i'm gonna —” 
“it's okay, gyu,” you whisper. “we can keep going.” he understands what you mean without you having to say anything more.
“are you sure?” he asks, just to be safe.
“i'm sure,” you answer without missing a beat. his lips curl up and he leads you to his bedroom, hand holding yours so tightly, it’s almost like he’s afraid to lose you.
-
the night is spent with beomgyu praising you like he’s never seen anything quite like you before. you feel his devotion with every passing moment and you can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing all these years. you’ve never felt so good, so cared for, in all your life. when you’re finished, and he’s cradling you in his arms, you’re both struggling to catch your breath. he looks at you like you hung the moon, but what you don’t know is that you’re starting look at him like that, too.
-
you’re so anxious. as you pull up to the choi’s family home in the passenger’s seat of beomgyu’s car, you can’t help but wring your hands together. this could be very good, or very, very bad. you can’t help but feel like you’re… betraying? the choi family by dating beomgyu. they’ve taken you in as family, but you’ve taken beomgyu as your own. do you regret that decision? well, you can’t say you do when beomgyu grabs your restless hands and comfortingly squeezes them before telling you “hey, it’s alright. don’t be nervous. i love you. they love you. everyone here loves you. just be yourself and i’ll take care of the rest, okay?” 
“okay,” you say shyly. you and beomgyu have been working on your self esteem. it was pretty slow going at first, but you’ve been pushing through. now, after three months, you’re a lot better, but there’s still room for improvement. beomgyu is nothing if not patient, though. after all, he’s been waiting for 8 years. how could he not be? and so he patiently coaxes you out of the car and into the house.
you two find your way inside and are greeted by his parents, jia, and yijun. nobody bats an eye at you two walking in together — they just greet and hug you as per usual, but their smiles drop and their faces turn serious when beomgyu announces he has something to tell everyone.
“guys, uh, we have something to tell you all,” he says, lacing his fingers with yours, “we’re together now.” you could hear a pin drop with how quiet the room is. mrs. choi is the first to break the silence.
“h-how long? how long has this been going on?” 
“three months,” he says cautiously. again, the room is silent.
“... only three? damn it!” mr. choi exclaims.
“i told you guys it hasn’t been very long,” jia sneers. “now pay up.” beomgyu’s parents grimace while pulling out their wallets and stuffing cash in jia’s hands.  
“pleasure doing business with you,” she teases with a shit-eating grin.
“um, guys? what’s going on? i’m kind of pouring my heart out over here,” beomgyu says irritatedly. 
“oh, honey. we know. we’ve known you liked her since she first stepped foot into our home. she was the only one who didn’t,” mrs. choi replies with a wave of her hand and your cheeks can’t help but heat up to an impossible degree. beomgyu finally pieces everything together while you’re still scrambling to understand what’s going on.
“oh my god, did you all make a bet to see how long it’d take for us to get together?!” beomgyu exclaims.
“more or less,” mr. choi says nonchalantly. realistically speaking, you and beomgyu should be angry, but all you two can do when you lock eyes with each other is laugh. 
“so you’re okay with it?” you ask meekly.
“of course we are!” mrs. choi says. “we couldn’t ask for a better match for our boy. we were just waiting for you to see that, too.” you can’t help but feel your eyes go sour. you hug his parents and they rub your hair. why would you think they’d do anything other than accept you? they always have.
that night, after all the board games and movies and laughter, you go out for some fresh air. you aren’t surprised in the slightest to see beomgyu sitting on the back porch steps, almost as if he’s been waiting for you. 
“there you are,” beomgyu says with a grin blooming on his face. you sit next to him, so close your thighs are touching. you lean your head against his shoulder and you sigh in contentment.
“that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks.
“not at all,” you smile, “but did everyone in the world know about us besides me?”
“pretty much, yeah,” he giggles and you playfully smack his chest. after your laughter dies down, beomgyu senses some hesitation from you. it feels like you want to say something to him.
“what is it?” he asks. you pull away from him and stare into his eyes. they look especially starry tonight.
“i have to tell you something,” you say, voice trembling slightly.
“mhm?” he nods.
“i think… actually, i know i love you, gyu. and i’m sorry it took me so long to get here, but i really do.” your eyes water when you see beomgyu’s doing the same. he looks so relieved, as if your words in particular are the ones he’s been waiting for all his life. and they are.
“i love you, too, if you haven’t guessed that already,” he says softly. “and i’d do everything all over again if it meant i’d get to be with you like this.” his eyes close and he leans in. you meet him halfway and press your lips together in a chaste kiss.
notes pt. 2: and that's it for them! i actually wrote a bit of smut for this, but i don't think it'll ever see the light of day i fear. as always, feedback is appreciated! i'd love to know what you all think :)
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