#because you know she sees the world like a romantic. her world is art and emotion and devotion. to her family. to anything she cares about
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snakes-of-the-undercity · 8 days ago
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Vi is gifted kid burnout but in the english major way
#she’s the best characterization I’ve seen of gifted kid burnout outside of super-genius characters#like. as a burnt out gifted kid by legal designation. she is me#trying to succeed at everything because that’s what you’re told to do or what you think needs to be done to be worth anything to anyone#being rigid to change because it’s not being done right but at the same time accepting change so long as people stay with you#and also how that ties in with being an eldest sibling#because ik folks love the whole ‘gifted kid jinx’ thing (not me but ya’ll do you) but ya’ll—#YA’LL DO NOT UNDERSTAND MY NEED FOR BURNT OUT ACADEMIC VI—#because Vi never got the chance to be a kid and learn and grow and find what she actually enjoyed in the world outside of the last drop crew#but look at her. the way she speaks and the way she tried to teach powder the lessons she earned the hard way in the gentlest way possible#in the way she so desperately clings on to people and memories#my girl would be a WRITER#my girl would be writing poetry drunk in her shitty basement apartment after hooking up with a girl#my girl would be writing novellas in prison and getting her degree#because you know she sees the world like a romantic. her world is art and emotion and devotion. to her family. to anything she cares about#i need more literary! student vi. i need more academic vi. i need more grudging debate-team captain vi#i need vi getting her own place and having an extensive book collection that she develops because of the loneliness#Her gkb is going from a leader & soldier to someone who could be useful regardless to someone who is useless & being okay w/ it ->#to being needed again and not knowing how to handle it but knowing she refuses to fuck it up this time#GIVE ME VI W/ MY GIFTED KID ARCCCCCC#this probs makes no sense and is like 4 tangents but I’ll expand on it later ‘cause im tired#coherency is for losers and the well-rested#vi arcane#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane spoilers#arcane season two#vi
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widowshill · 4 months ago
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— Are you sure Burke wants to buy Collinwood? — Yes, he said so. I'm just afraid it's only the beginning of what he wants.
#76.#➤ roger collins & victoria winters & burke devlin. ┊ to know how it ends‚ and still begin to sing it again.#gifs.#➤ edits & art. ┊ the evans cottage art gallery.#➤ roger collins. ┊ I and my ghosts want a drink.#➤ victoria winters. ┊ because she’s lost and lonely. because she looks in shadows.#➤ re: burke devlin. ┊ I am stranded in a hungerland of great prosperity.#I just think about Lou’s acting choices a lot.#the little pleading pout he gives her … the yearning after her... the fussing that she's talking to burke in the doorway...#and the way vicki holds eye contact with him ... hhhh.#and this is sandwiched between talking to her on the cliffs and taking her out to the blue whale !! (i think all the same day?)#it's just so... impactful. that this is blocked in the threshold.#lingering between burke and roger; the drawing room and foyer; pulled to either side by two versions of what happened ten years ago.#roger tugging (forcefully) at her loyalty to the collins family and her gratitude for giving her a home and family;#burke tugging her sympathies because he also wants a home; roots; a big house to raise his kids in — he's alone in the world like she is.#[heathcliff] is more myself than i am!#and you can see the realization on his face that should burke tug her too far;#roger's cord of communion will snap and he will take to bleeding inwardly.#vicki by nature of her character not only responds to truth with her favor — but; conversely; by giving her favor creates truth.#when she likes and trusts and wants to spend time w/ roger he fares very well: a breakfast date where she supplies him with an alibi —#a dinner date that covers up his perjury meeting. vicki's good opinion is indispensable for his survival —#the very minute he loses that — when she is certain he's bill's murderer — she turns on him and so does everyone else and he immediately#loses his freedom (albeit only temporarily held at the police station rather than 5 years in prison)#she's not literally taken laura's place with them — but it's remarkable how much her romantic intentions influence the outcome of that#decade-old case; in just the same way that laura choosing roger as her husband and supplying truth through her testimony lead to#burke's condemnation before. it's much the same game roger is playing at this point in the story (at a significant disadvantage#to last time; because he can't offer vicki — penultimate Good Girl — a ring)#vicki's heart; affection; attraction; tied up fundamentally in Justice. and her position as narrator#making it all the more compelling that she writes Truth as vicki is navigating who *very literally* holds the Pen.#burke's story or roger's story? burke's [redacted] or roger's [redacted]?
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iceunhie · 5 months ago
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— phaethetically in love !
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premise. belle thinks her brother is the most oblivious person in sixth street. the reason? one: because his (super obvious) crush on you is practically the worst kept secret in new eridu, and two: because he can't even see that said crush is reciprocated! good thing he has one (1) amazing, wonderful, nosy sister to help him out, yeah?
or, belle thinks the two of you are a prime example of an s tier romance movie; and she really wants to skip to the final arc already.
pairing. wise x gn!reader.
warnings: kinda ooc wise (i just started the game), wise is a loser (lovingly), belle is an instigator (proudly), comedy, facepalm moments.
a/n: for @vxnuslogy and @milksnake-tea bc yes wise kissers yes
MY (rlly cool btw 🥺) MASTERLIST || INBOX !
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“you're in love with [name], aren't you?”
like all siblings in the world—or what's left of it, belle schemes.
(against wise, of course. obviously.)
her brother bursts into a mess immediately, nearly spilling his cup ramen all over his new shirt, chopsticks sticking out. laughing nervously. general chop would not be proud. “who told you that? i mean— haha, who said that, belle?”
his sister rolls her eyes. “me, myself. i.” she emphasizes, leaning her elbows against the table and putting her palms together; the grin she wears right now is so serene, but not in the angelic, nice way. belle smiles and wise finally thinks, oh. my sister may need to book herself to the closest self-help guru in new eridu.
“i have reason to believe that you, my dearest brother, are in love with [name].”
her voice goes up an octave at the last bit, leading wise to stuff her mouth with potato chips. already, heads have turned. “mff.”
“keep your voice down! and stop broadcasting it to everyone here-”
“what, i am right, aren't i? they clearly like you back, so why haven't you confessed yet?”
“keep. your. voice. down.” wise says, and belle's shit eating grin only widens as she sees her brother's ears tinged with pink. “and... how did you even know that?” he asks, mortified.
“well, one: because it's obvious—like, have you seen how obvious you are?” belle huffs, taking a bite of the potato chip with force (personal grudges are involved). “and two, because they like you back, dummy!”
because when belle sees the two of you together, it's like wise focuses on no one else. you are the center of his world—and he is just being pulled to bask in your light. his eyes soften like they melt only for you, and wise looks like all he is is, all he wants to be, is to belong with you.
(and, wise likes to stare at you for ungodly amounts of time. belle even caught him staring when you were petting a cat by the street and decided to name the stray ‘wise’; courtesy of him, apparently. the cat literally just had grey fur.
“wise.”
“hm?”
“you're practically spawning heart eyes now.”)
it's sickening. (in a oh my god my brother is in love kind of way, mind you.)
“so!” belle says, a devilish sparkle in her eyes. “allow your dearest sister to help you out, 'kay?”
wise nearly coughs up blood.
“what?!”
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so at present, belle compiles her (hastily written) list of romantic moments you and wise have shared. she's not surprised—the number can be counted on one hand. diabolical, disappointing, world-ending! she resists the urge to cough up blood.
first, a coff cafe date with tin man's help: a fail. tin man's wingman capabilities were very superb, but she never heard the end of it when wise was lecturing her about how tin man kept sending over heart shaped desserts and little fortune cookies. the fortune cookies in question which said ‘you can do it!’ and a latte with art of caricature tin man making a heart. (you were very confused). belle thought it was motivating. wise thought it was mortifying.
next, even instilling help from fairy to calculate statistics about what event would you two be likely to be together. fairy said, and belle quotes: “probably never. that kind of pining's for the long run, with the other master's current experience. give it a year or six, master.”
so, she's currently face-palming.
did her brother really have zero game? why were the two of you just dancing around each other?! she's tried everything—from letting you two spend more time with each other in commissions, her inviting you over more to leave you to chat with her brother, and even the entirety of sixth street has lent their aid! how were you two not dating yet?!
“didn't they go on an arcade date at random play yesterday?” belle mutters. “that should've increased your progress by a long mile, bro! even general chop said you two were really, really close in the noodle shop....”
just what was she going to do now? at this rate, her brother would be relationshipless in no time! in fairy's words again, it would be phaethetic. and that would be a phaethal blow on her pride.
“...master, i said no such thing.”
“well, now you did.”
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“The Ethereal Reckoning,” there's a pep in your step, the boxes full of movie DVDs in your arms as you walk back to the movie store. it was heavy, but at least you got to walk with the grey-haired proxy beside you. “That movie was great! Thanks for recommending it to me.”
Sporting a dopey, lovesick grin in response, wise nods at that, content to listen to your voice. it was actually belle's idea to let you lend movies you like over so the two of you could talk about it back and forth. wise would need to (begrudgingly) treat her to a bowl of ramen later on.... she saved him—he probably wouldn't even be talking to you for this long at this point, let alone hang out with you without her. for someone so nosy, he guesses his sister was a pretty good wingwoman.
“the main character was pretty similar to billy, you know?” you ramble on as wise listens. “i mean, because they were an android too, and...”
he finds that he's content to listen to anything you say, really. (right now he doesn't really know what you're saying, something about a horror ethereal movie, but you could just tell him anything and he would listen).
“i feel like the heroine's death was unnecessary, though.” you sigh, “too much tension just for it to end like that? how anticlimactic.”
your voice was so nice, so warm and easy to listen to, and wise can't even say anything to retort, simply staring with a growing (lovesick) smile on his face. talking to people was hard work, and talking to you? it might just make him combust.
“...ise? wise?”
“ah, huh?” he snaps out of his trance, only to find you mere inches away from his face, the only thing keeping you apart the boxes full of movies he's carrying. “...!”
“are you listening?” you furrow, and someone really might be out to get him right now because in that moment, wise flinches from the proximity, bumping into you.
then, because the universe thinks his life couldn't get more dramatic than it already was—you stagger, about to fall forward.
he moves before he thinks. “watch out!”
and wise.... practically astral-projects to another plane when he feels you fall into his arms, his hands on your waist. he can feel the warmth of your skin on his, the flustered look on your face. (he feels like he's going to die).
the two of you lock eyes for a moment, and wise feels like he's about to so something very stupid and his hands are still on your waist—
“....”
“.....”
someone save him.
“ah...”
“sorry!” you recover first, hurriedly letting yourself pull away from him (much to his disappointment). “i wasn't looking, and i- are you okay, wise?”
“no, no, it's fine.... i-i'm fine....” he hopes his voice isn't as small as it is, he couldn't be smooth to save his life; and wise helps you gather your bearings, his hands brushing against yours, blood rushing to his ears. sheepishly rubbing at his nape. “sorry, i was distracted.”
perhaps in the mood to lift the atmosphere, you sputter out, “no worries! it's fine! besides, you listened to me all this time.... i really enjoyed the movie, really.”
“of course i'll listen.” and before wise can think to stop his traitor of a mouth, the words spill out of his lips like it always wanted to be.
“you're worth paying attention to.”
it's automatic—your face heats up, warming like the sun on a hot day in new eridu, and god, he is such an idiot-
“you think so?” wise gulps. you looked bashful, and were way too adorable right now, and his face felt like it was on fire.... wait, that's not the point! he has to answer you, at least. this is a chance to make progress!
“y-yeah. definitely. i enjoyed... watching the movie with you.” he says. did his voice just crack just now? “we can hang out more often too, even without belle.”
he feels bad for throwing his sister under the bus like that, but—wait, did he just ask you out on a date? (accidentally)
well, it didn't matter because wise feels like he won the lottery right now, because you brighten up immediately. “really?”
then you cough and compose yourself. “i mean, sure! i'm sure it'll be fun, haha...”
awkward silence ensues. uh oh, did he say something wrong? was he too forward? he wants to say something, but something is lodged in his throat, and wise can't bring up a response. (his heart was beating like crazy right now, though).
“uh...”
“....”
then, something soft brushes against the side of his cheek. as fast as it was felt, wise felt the sensation leave just as easily. did you just-?
you just kissed him. on the cheek.
“thanks for hanging out with me, wise.”
“you're welcome- wha- huh?!” he nearly drops the stack of dvd's he was holding. you pull away, an enigmatic smile on your face. face flushed.
before he can even respond, the two of you finally arrive at the movie store. damn it, gods of the world. why did his luck run out now?
“i guess this is your stop.” he blinks, your voice coming back to him. “and, wise?”
“ah, uh, yeah?”
“it's a date, then?” your eyes sparkle and shine a light through his heart. super effective!
is this really happening? is he really going on a date with you—oh, he's so thrilled he could actually burst into song and kick his feet, but belle would tease him ruthlessly after. nosy sisters were so much work....
“yes!” he almost yells it out, but because he didn't want to look uncool in front of you, wise composes himself. play it cool, play it cool. don't mess up this chance! “yes, definitely. it's... it's a date.”
you put down the other stack of dvd's down the table, flashing him a dizzying, lovely smile smile. wise swears he falls even harder for you.
“then it's a date.”
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BONUS.
“seriously?! you're going on a date with them?!” belle shouts, so unceremoniously that wise slaps a hand on her mouth.
“not so loud! but, yeah.” he says, face heating up. “your plan worked, sis.”
“yes! yes! finally!” his sister practically cheers, “i can finally be free of your sickening heart eyes... and finally, our street's most anticipated couple is here!”
wise can't help but sigh in fond exasperation. he guesses he'll let her have this one today.
“also, belle?”
“what?”
“you didn't tell anyone about this, did you?”
...
“uhh....”
(on the day of the date, wise receives an abnormal amount of good luck posters. he also gets a disturbing amount of thumbs up from the neighbors.
the last straw? tin man, giving him a baked cake with the words ‘rooting for you!’ covered in pink heart sprinkles.
he facepalms. belle...!)
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a/n: d d do you guys get it..... phaethetically...... phaethon..... wise is phaethon and he's awkward in love lol hahahahaha (💀)
@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.
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threeacttragedy · 1 month ago
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Entry 10: The One About the Audibly Loud Lukola FanFic
I’ll address the elephant in the room. And, no, I’m not talking about Jake Dunn’s brown suit! Or, that he’s posing with a man. Or, that Tyler commented “Bellissimo!!!!” on Jake's post.
I don’t think a lot of people understood the connection I was making this morning about “Mis-Directed,” Gwilym Lee, and Jake.  So, now I feel the need to explain because I don’t want people running with a narrative that goes in the opposite direction of where I was taking it.
Sorry, JVN, you’re getting pushed to the side again. I promise, I’ll get to you one day.
Let’s go back two months…
On September 25, Nicola posted to her Instagram stories a link to Alex Babsky’s post, which was a picture of Nicola. She had her hair and make-up done but she was wearing one of her own dresses (the black dress she wore in Australia and Brazil). Babsky captioned his post “[pink bow] @nicolacoughlan in London today for…well, never mind what for actually [laughing emoji with hand over mouth] [winking emoji] [shushing emoji].” Nicola responded, “You’re amazing it was so gorgeous to see you xxx.”
Babksy’s caption sent the fandom into hysteria wondering what the hell Nicola was up to. It didn’t help that this was the same day Luke updated his Instagram bio and used “Xx” and it didn’t help that Nicola was wearing the black dress she allegedly wore on her beach walk in Brazil with Luke.
Do you want to know what I thought the photo of Nicola was from? I’m not going to lie – I thought it was pre-wedding makeup. Seriously, not kidding. It reminded me of my own wedding day. Formal hair and makeup and my own dress that was easy to take off without messing up the hair and makeup. I never said I wasn’t a little bit delulu.
On November 5, an author named Lucy Parker announced on her Instagram feed that she had a new Audible book called “Mis-Directed” being released in February 2025. The post came with pictures of Nicola wearing the black dress and the same hair and makeup as the September 25 post. Nicola (presumably) is reading the part of Hattie Murton, and Gwilym Lee (presumably) is reading the part of Anthony Rafe.
Oh, okay.
Turns out, I was wrong.
So, Nicola and Luke didn’t get married.
Fine.
I have always liked crows.
But, wait a minute – what the fuck is this Audible book about? A woman who stars in a romantic drama called “Leicester Square” (what the fuck?) which was adapted from a best-selling romance novel (what the fuck??). Then, in comes our antagonist, Anthony Rafe, who plays opposite of Hattie and, let me quote here, “But when very real chemistry sparks during their scripted love scenes, Hattie begins to think the industry’s legendarily heartless Bad Guy [Anthony] might just a have a pulse after all. And Anthony, for his part, is caught off-guard by the way his heart races when he’s around his aggravating onscreen lover. As reality starts to imitate art a little too close for comfort, the world’s most unlikely couple might just have more in common than they thought…” (what the fuck???).
Let’s start with Leicester Square. What the hell is Leicester Square? Oh, the name of the fake television show on which Hattie and Anthony star. Sure, Jan. Is it odd to anyone else that Leicester Square is the name of the location of where the London premiere of Bridgerton Season 3 took place? You know, the event that happened hours before Papsmear.
Then we have the make-believe show being adapted from a best-selling romance novel. Mmm hmm.
Let’s try and not make the connection between Luke and Anthony. Mmm hmm.
And, let’s add fuel to the fire and have two co-stars falling in love with each other.
Yeah, we get it. It’s a Lukola FanFic being read by none other than Nicola. I mean, the only way it could be any better is if Luke was reading the part of Anthony Rafe! But, no, that part is being read by Gwilym Lee (who is fantastic in everything he does, by the way).
Who is Gwilym Lee? Well, he’s an actor (my father calls him “Midsomer”). Ask Mr. Google about him. But, if you check out his Instagram feed, you will find that he knows Jake and has since, at least, 2022. Is it possible that Nicola met Gwilym through Jake? Yeah, it is.
Now, why do I find this situation intriguing? Specifically, why did I find the post from Jake this morning posing with Gwilym interesting (and a bit shady)? Let me explain.
The Jakholes took the “Mis-Directed” FanFic as shade towards the Lukolas. Yes, they went there because that FanFic does not (in the least) fit nicely into their Jakola narrative. I mean, if it wasn’t shade to the Lukolas, how weird the storyline must have been for Jake! The writing was audibly on the wall, in big red letters, but the Jakholes chose to spin it into something messier than my hair in the morning after sleeping on it wet.
What exactly is this theory? Well, per the Jakholes, Nicola hates the Lukola fandom so much that she sat and read (likely, for hours) this Lukola-coded FanFic just to spite us! I mean, Anthony is a bad boy in this story and “everyone loves to hate” him (don’t forget, Luke became the devil incarnate after Papsmear). And, Hattie is tired of the “brutal press, overly invested fans, and a cutthroat industry…[that] would give even Pollyanna an edge of cynicism.” The Jakholes believe this means Nicola is saying she’s really in love with Jake and she wants us all to know that by reading a Harlequin-style romance about a woman who falls in love with her costar! Oh, my God!! How could she?!
What in the actual fuck are the Jakholes drinking with this bullshit? I know, I know. I shouldn’t expect anything better from people who ship Jake with Nicola. In fact, if I was a Jakhole, I might buy into this conspiracy theory. But, I’m not a fucking Jakhole. And, guess what Jakholes? I don’t mind breaking the hearts of Lukolas by saying we’re probably never going to see sexy-hot Brazil pictures of Luke and Nicola, so I don’t mind telling Jakholes to put this theory back into Davy Jones’ locker and feed it to that bitch Kraken.
Let’s talk a bit further about the absurdity of this “Nicola is shading Lukola” subplot from Hell.
We will pretend Nicola hates Luke. She hates Lukola. She baits the Lukola fandom for shits and giggles.
What would this make Nicola?
It would make her a villain, for starters (and “villain” is me being extremely nice).
More importantly, it would make Nicola a PR nightmare.
Even if Nicola and Luke despised each other, do you believe Netflix, Bridgerton, and Shonda Land would allow Nicola to play games with the Lukola fandom? Talk about playing with fire!
The reality is the lines between Polin and Lukola are heavily blurred at this point. I hate to say it – and maybe a lot of you will view me as a complete asshole after I say this – but, if I learned Nicola was shading the Lukolas (therefore, in my opinion, trolling Luke), I would not be interested in Bridgerton Season 4. Or, Season 5. Or, any season after that. Or, in Nicola, for that matter. You’re welcome to have your own opinion about this but I would feel incredibly betrayed, and not just by Nicola. On top of that, for me, Polin has become Lukola. They’re so blurred, they don’t even resemble a line anymore. Maybe that’s a bad position to be in, but that’s where I’m at. Sorry, not sorry.
I’m not going to rehash the breadcrumbs left by Nicola that support Lukola – if you know, you know (or you can catch up by spending an afternoon on Tumblr). Even Luke, in his own way, leaves Lukola-coded crumbs. We also have damn convincing evidence that Netflix, Bridgerton, and Shonda Land support Lukola. I mean, even they’re blurring the lines with “Nicola and Luke’s Cutest Moments” and interestingly timed images of Polin. So, do you think they’re going to let Nicola fuck with that on a public forum?
That would be a cold, hard NO.
But, this Audible book – “Mis-Directed” – is loud and made louder because Nicola is reading it.
So, what is this Audible book? Shade? Or, Nicola being cutesy? I’m going to place my bets on the latter solely because, like I said, the Corporate Office is not going to let Nicola shade Lukola because it has a direct effect on Polin.
That’s not to say that the excitement of this Lukola-coded “Mis-Directed” FanFic wasn’t attacked by the Jakholes from all sides, and the wind – for the moment – was kicked out of it. That’s a different story for a different day.
But, what I found so intriguing about Jake’s post today is that, of all the people he could have included in his photo (because there’s obviously lots of people at this event), he chose Gwilym. And, this means people will look into Gwilym. People will realize that Gwilym is the other side of “Mis-Directed.” People will realize Jake and Gwilym are friends. People will realize that Jake’s friend is reading a Lukola-themed romance novel with Nicola.
And, if we agree that the book is not shade towards the Lukolas and we agree that Jakola is not real, what is the significance of the connection between Jake and Gwilym? Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m overthinking it. But, the connection – at least in my mind (and it’s been there since November 5) – is that Jake supports “Mis-Directed” because he supports Lukola and he has always been there, helping Nicola lay the breadcrumbs. He wanted people to look into Gwilym and make the connection. Jake could very well be the one who suggested Gwilym read the part of Anthony. Jake is the degree of separation.
I want to close this out by noting that Jake also liked the post Nicola has pinned on her Instagram grid – the black and white one about her Time 100 article. You know, the one where Nicola says, “A lot of people really want me to marry Luke.” Follow the links and it will take you to this article. That’s an interestingly placed like by Jake, in my opinion – as is his photo op with Gwilym.
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astraystayyh · 6 months ago
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Starry night.
in which you and hyune fall in love through paintings.
idol!hyunjin x museum guide!reader. love at first sight, kinda. both mc and hyune are romantics.. lots of art analysis and conversations. very fluffy and soft. like so soft i hurt myself with this you guys.
all the info about Vincent Van Gogh’s life and works are from the Van Gogh Museum. the interpretations are my own but im not an art critic, obvi, just a yearner 💔 please enjoy, feedback is highly appreciated 💞
thank you to the lovely reader who commissioned me!!!! the money went to our stayblr fundraiser for palestine. please consider donating if you are able too as well <3333
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“You’ll be able to do it, right?” Your manager Martin looks at you expectantly, and you blink slowly in response. It, referring to leading a private tour of the Van Gogh exhibition.
You’ve been a museum guide in New York for four months now. When you’re not painting, you’re here, amidst the array of artworks nestled in a quaint street near East River. You’ve led group tours before, always under the watchful eye of Martin, a middle-aged man who never forgets to bring you a vanilla bourbon macaron every morning.
However, you’ve never handled a private tour before. You see the desperation in Martin’s eyes as he awaits your answer—he’s the one who usually handles these tours, but he has urgent family matters to suddenly attend to.
You blink again, your tongue unknotting in a split second. “I’d be happy to,” you beam. The exhibition feels like a second home to you; you’ve visited it countless times long before you started working here.
Martin heaves a sigh of relief, smiling back at you. “I believe in you,” he reassures, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Remember why I chose you.”
You grin at his words, nodding vigorously. Your love for art brought you here; your very being seems molded to breathe in paintings and live among them. It’s as sweet a life as it can get.
“You’ll find all the details about our guest in our log. He’s famous, so he’ll be a bit discreet. He’ll expect you to be too,” he explains, hurriedly packing his things. You nod, taking the keys to the art gallery from his hand.
“Don’t worry, the gallery is safe in my hands.”
“I know,” he says with a comforting smile, before finally waving goodbye. You take a deep breath and check the booking for tonight’s exhibition—Hwang Hyunjin.
The name is unfamiliar to you, and so is the face that greets you at 8 p.m. sharp—at least, what you can see of it. He’s wearing a navy cap and a face mask, with a varsity jacket sitting perfectly atop his broad shoulders. He looks young, roughly your age.
“Hi, welcome to our Van Gogh exhibition,” you greet him with a grin. He bows slightly in response.
“No one’s here, so you can remove your mask if you wish. I can take your bag as well,” you offer with a smile. He nods and hands you his black duffel bag, which you quickly pass to the security guard, who places it inside a safe cabinet.
Hyunjin removes his Versace cap, running a hand through his silky black hair. There is an aura of assurance around him, as if he’s poised before a camera in a professional photoshoot. But then, a shy smile appears on his face as he finally removes his face mask, his eyes glinting beneath the golden lighting.
You feel your breath catch in your throat; for a split second, the world around you seems to still, the paintings dimming before the beautiful face in front of you.
“Right,” you clear your throat, “shall we?”
Hyunjin nods, falling easily into step with you. You pause before the first painting, ‘Woman with a Child on her Lap’, 1883.
“This is rumored to be about Sien Hoornik, who became both Vincent’s lover and model. She was a former prostitute, pregnant at the time, and had a five-year-old daughter. Vincent was determined to help her through her hardships, and they dated for a year and a half. But then, he broke it off because he said she was too far gone to be saved.”
Hyunjin nods, his eyes fixated on the painting, his head tilted slightly to the side. “The eyes are telling,” he speaks for the first time, and his voice floods your being like dewdrops reviving flowers at dawn. It is smooth and soft, the end of his words getting lost in the air and caught by your heart.
“The way the mother and daughter look at each other, I mean.” He clarifies, stealing a fleeting glance at you. “There is disdain on the mother’s face, but more toward herself, I think. Maybe because she sees her reflection in her daughter.”
Groups usually scurry past this painting, eager to see Vincent’s more renowned works. You feel your heart soften at how much he seems to be thinking about it, lost in his own world. You’re not even sure he remembers you’re there.
“Vincent was really determined to help her, although his brother Theo disapproved. His parents did too.”
“Isn’t that what love is? To hold someone’s hand even if everyone tells you to let go,” he mutters quietly, his eyes still lost in the painting. A hue of vulnerability colors his words before he clears his throat, as if unwittingly revealing his inner thoughts.
“That’s a beautiful way to view it,” you smile, and he nods, shyly biting his lower lip. For some odd reason, his timidity stirs something unfamiliarly tender within your heart.
You walk over to the next set of paintings. “When Vincent moved to Paris, you can see how his style developed. He let go of the darker tones he used in his infamous ‘The Potato Eaters’ and began using lighter colors, like here,” you explain, pointing to ‘The Hill of Montmartre with Stone Quarry’.
“Do you think it’s because he was happier?” he suddenly asks, and you frown slightly. “Pardon?”
“The shift to lighter colors. ‘The Potato Eaters’ is so sorrowful and shrouded in darkness. ‘The Hill’ is much more colorful, lighter, you know?” His eyes glide to yours, a twinkle of curiosity glimmering in them.
“Vincent did flourish in Paris. For once, he was in the same city as his brother Theo, whom he loved dearly. But he was mainly influenced by modern art, which uses much lighter colors than his previous works. Art critics usually attribute this change in the influence of his contemporaries, such as—”
“But what do you think?” he interrupts softly, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are penetrating, and you find yourself lost in the seas of emotion they contain.
You quiet down, licking your lips tentatively. No one has ever asked for your opinion on these tours before.
“Well,” you begin slowly, “I think it’s possible. Being around his brother and other artists who embraced brighter palettes could have uplifted his spirit. But also, maybe the light colors were his way of reaching for happiness, even if he didn’t always feel it. Art often mirrors our hopes as much as our realities.”
Hyunjin listens intently, a thoughtful look on his face. “I agree,” he finally says, smiling sincerely. You don’t know why the sight of his grin renders your brain putty, like melted ice cream under the kind sunrays.
“His use of lighter colors continued when he moved to the south of France. He was delighted with the bright colors in Arles, painting orchards in blossom and workers gathering the harvest,” you explain, pointing to the respective paintings.
“That’s when he told his brother that he wanted to open a studio for fellow painters. He wrote in a letter the following: 'you always lose when you’re isolated.' He sent out many invitations, but only one painter agreed to come.”
“Paul Gauguin,” Hyunjin swiftly replies.
“Exactly. He was the first and last painter to move in with Vincent.”
“It seemed like the more he tried to escape loneliness, the more it found him,” Hyunjin muses, his eyes fixed on ‘Portrait of Gauguin’ by Vincent. The bright colors he asked you about earlier make you wonder if, beneath the spotlight, Hyunjin too feels lonely.
“Sometimes loneliness becomes a friend. You have to make room for it to allow other things to come in,” you say softly.
“It’s sad how nothing good came out of that roommate situation, though” he frowns, and you nod in agreement.
“Paul and Vincent were very different. They had a lot of eclectic views that often led to disagreements. I assume you know their most prominent one.”
“Yes, when Vincent cut off his ear.”
“Correct, he then wrapped it in newspaper and presented it to a prostitute in the nearby red-light district.”
“A prostitute…” Hyunjin muses, his thumb swiping slightly across his lower lip. “It seems like phantoms of his first love found him again. Even in his most disoriented state, he somehow remembered her.”
“You speak of love beautifully,” you suddenly say, before biting your tongue harshly, instantly regretting your words. But Hyunjin’s eyes seem to soften as he gazes at you, the warm light dancing across his pupils.
“It is a beautiful feeling.”
“Only to those who have beautiful souls,” you speak earnestly, and your words seem to morph into brushstrokes, painting the gallery in hues of red. Intimate, soft, too intimate all of the sudden.
“Vincent’s mental health rapidly declined, and he put himself back into the mental asylum,” you quickly clear your throat, though you can still feel Hyunjin’s eyes on you, not the painting. “Still, that’s when he created some of his most famous artworks, like ‘The Starry Night’. He was inspired by the view from the asylum’s window. It’s dominated by vivid yellow and blue, and the colors and paint seem to describe a world outside the artwork itself.”
“It’s breathtaking,” Hyunjin marvels, lost in the painting, leaning in until his nose almost brushes the canvas.
You suppress a giggle, but your laughter fades as you take in the mole right by his jaw, then the one by his neck. The delicateness of his face, the plumpness of his lips, and the curve of his lashes.
He’s beautiful. The painting could seep him in and he’d fit right in with the silver stars. Outshining them too, surely.
“I really liked the tour,” he smiles, nearly two hours of lazy strolls later. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” you grin back, grabbing his outstretched hand. His fingers wrap around yours slowly, deliberately, as if on a mission to ignite your nerve endings. To set your soul ablaze with his palm alone.
His hand holds yours for a few seconds longer than necessary. Your blush mirrors his when he finally lets go.
He quickly bows again, grabbing his bag from his manager, who was waiting by the door. He almost bumps into the handle on his way out, and you let out an endeared chuckle, your eyes lingering on his figure until he disappears into his black van.
You think you'll never see him again, two lines crossing serendipitously at one point, never to cross paths once more. The thought sends a pang of sorrow latching onto your heart, before you quickly brush it away.
But then you do see him again, the very following night, at that.
It is near nine p.m. when Martin exclaims suddenly, “Mr. Hwang!” and you freeze in your place, book guide in hand.
It has been exactly twenty-four hours since you last saw Hyunjin, but when his voice softly echoes through the art gallery, it feels like a lifelong ache finally soothed.
“Please, call me Hyunjin,” he says, shaking Martin’s hand, though his eyes quickly find yours. They stay on you, unmoving yet tender, like a cotton blanket draped over your being.
“How was the tour with Miss Yn?”
“Ah—“ his gaze finally drifts away from yours. “Yes, it was really nice. That's why I came again,” he explains, a touch sheepishly, and your quizzical eyes meet Martin’s.
“Hyunjin booked another private tour. He specifically requested you to be his guide,” Martin explains, and your eyes widen in shock. You don’t have time to reply because your manager quickly scurries away. “I’ll leave you two then. Have fun!”
You wait until Martin disappears into his office before turning to Hyunjin, who avoids your gaze, one hand deep in his pocket, moving side to side. You remain silent for a few moments, simply admiring the side of his face. You’ve always had a deep appreciation for art running through your veins, after all.
“Hi,” he finally says, his eyes quickly meeting yours. You can’t stop the smile that floods your face, coating every nook and cranny of your features.
“You came back,” you say with a breathy giggle.
“Mm,” he instantly grins. “I don’t know when I’ll be back in New York, so I wanted to truly memorize the art here.”
“When are you going home?” you ask as you take his bag again, your eyes taking in his outfit—a green cap this time, a knit vest over a white shirt, and a silver teddy bear necklace nestled perfectly against it. Pretty.
“Tomorrow. We had a tour stop here, and we’ll go back to Seoul now.”
“And you’ll be spending your final night in the city here?” you chuckle slightly, and he shrugs as if it’s the most obvious decision he ever had to make.
“Why not? I think it’s beautiful here.” though his eyes never move to look onto the paintings, gliding across your face instead.
“And I forgot to take pictures yesterday,” he quickly adds, pointing to the camera in his hands.
“I’ll help you then,” you offer, and he smiles so brightly that it renders you speechless, suddenly wondering if the first person who ever drew a portrait had a similar thought—that they saw a smile so beautiful they just needed to immortalize it.
Hyunjin is at ease before the camera. You can tell by the way he almost pretends the device isn’t there, his eyes fixed on the paintings, mere centimeters away from the canvas. He’s whisked away into another world. You see your love for art mirrored in his soul as well.
“Do you paint, by any chance?” you ask between pictures, and he nods.
“Whenever I have free time. And you?”
“I do. I can show you later, if you’d like.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, pointing his finger at you, before looking directly into the camera this time. “I’ve been painting magnolias lately.”
“Really? Why magnolias specifically?”
“I read a poem about them. It said that when magnolias wither, they aren’t considered beautiful anymore. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t at one point. It really moved me.”
“You have to be very optimistic to view it that way,” you say as you finally hand him the camera, satisfied with your pictures. You are both standing in front of ‘Almond Blossom,’ the pastel colors drawing you in.
“Withering flowers mean that at one point they were in full bloom. Grief means that at one point you did love,” you muse. “It takes a lot of gentleness to find beauty in endings, to celebrate them as proof of what once was. Don’t you think so?”
You turn to look at him when the flash of a camera catches you off guard.
Hyunjin looks at your picture, a soft smile on his face. “You fit right in with the flowers,” he compliments, though it does not feel superfluous or bearing a hidden intent. It’s a simple observation he wished to share.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, a blush sprouting from your very veins. You quickly fix your posture, pointing to the painting. “I told you yesterday that Vincent painted this for his brother Theo, to celebrate his newborn, whom he named after Vincent.”
“Yes, I remember,” he nods, slinging the camera over his neck and taking a picture of the painting up close. “It seemed to bring Vincent a lot of solace in his final days.”
“I’ve been thinking about your question, whether Vincent was happy. I think he was hopeful more than anything. He had hoped his works would be recognized, he had hoped he wouldn’t be as lonely anymore. Sometimes hope keeps you going much more than happiness.”
“Because happiness will eventually wear off?”
“Right, it’s only natural. But hope… it’s like a flame that never goes out. It might flicker and dim, but it will still be there on your darkest nights.” You bite your lip slightly, your thumb digging into your palm.
“I hope you’ll always have hope in your life, Hyunjin. You’ve been my favorite person to talk about Vincent with,” you say sincerely, your eyes unwavering from his.
You imprint the way his gaze softens into your mind, the slight blush that powders his cheeks, the way his teeth peek behind his smile. You memorize his velvety voice in your mind, the way he accentuates certain letters and how it pulls at the strings of your heart when he says—“I’m very happy I met you, Yn.”
May is gone, and with it Hyunjin, and you think you are a fool for thinking of him as often as you do after only five hours in his presence. You don’t know why your mind is permeated with his essence. But why wouldn’t it be? is the better question. When he’s beautiful, truly, body and soul.
You feel slightly less foolish when a postcard is delivered to your exhibition on a sunny Saturday, one month later. It depicts the front entrance of the Museum of Modern Art in Seoul.
June 13.
“yn,
i saw Vincent’s works once again in this month’s exhibition. somehow they seem less beautiful without our conversations.
i hope you’re surrounded by art, too.
hyunjin.”
June 23.
“hyunjin,
i visited claude monet’s immersive exhibition, you have to visit it as well, once you’re back in new york.
i am still surrounded by art, as always. i don’t think i could ever part from it.
did you finish your magnolias? i hope you’re seeing beauty in them even after they wither.
yn.”
July 5.
“yn,
claude’s works are so different from vincent’s... don’t you think it's beautiful that they lived at the same time yet depicted their world so differently?
my magnolias are finished. i’ve been drawing scenes from your exhibition lately, the picture i took of you is particularly inspiring. i hope you don’t mind.
hyunjin.”
september 26.
“hyunjin,
leaves are falling all over new york. new beginnings are upon us. i hope this view of my window inspires you too.
i wish you happiness no matter the season.
yn.”
october 7.
“yn,
i just saw the first snow at dawn, it was such a pretty view! i’m happy i’m alive today.
i hope snow reaches you fast enough, too.
stay warm.
with love,
hyunjin.”
october 23.
“hyunjin,
i’ve always preferred spring, but snow brought me such a happy opportunity. i’m invited to an exhibition in seoul, next month!
i’ll enjoy it well and think of our conversations.
with love,
yn.”
october 5.
“yn,
the weather is beautiful in seoul lately. i’m happy you’ll be here to see it.
it is late at night, and the moon is shining brightly. i hope it’ll shine as brightly for you too, in new york.
with love,
yours.”
The click of your black heels against the marble floors echoes through the museum, a comforting sound as you stroll through the immersive Vincent exhibition; now gracing Seoul. The colors wash over you, reflecting off your skin, swirling around you until you feel as though you’re being drawn into the very heart of the paintings.
“Enjoying the art, Yn?” a voice like honey drips across your being. Your heart skips a beat, plummets to your knees and races back to its place once again. You feel an ache inside you unfold. memories of Hyunjin’s voice rewriting themselves, perfecting your recollection of his accent and the tender way in which he spoke your name.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, though you refuse to turn around and meet his eyes. Not yet. The scent of his rose perfume is enough to have your heart rattling against your ribcage— a bird wishing to escape its cage and deliver your love letter to its rightful owner.
“Isn’t it an amazing coincidence we met here? In Seoul, no less,” he says, his voice airy as he inches closer.
“I know you’re the one who invited me,” you giggle, finally turning to meet his gaze. His eyes widen slightly before morphing into crescents, as if lifted from Vincent’s Starry Night.
“How did you know? I thought I kept it a secret in our postcards,” he grins sheepishly.
“I kept pestering Mr. Martin about why the museum invited me specifically until he finally told me you were behind it.”
“Well,” he licks his lips, his eyes roaming over your face. “I admit, I missed you. I wanted to see you again. And I happen to be a major contributor to the museum.”
“Fancy,” you beam, before your grin morphs to something much softer, as you realize that you are away from your work, and that the Hyunjin of your postcards is finally before you.
“I missed you too. Show me around?”
“Am I your guide now?”
“Mm. I expect you to be an expert.”
“Oh, I am.”
Hyunjin speaks of the paintings as if it’s his first time seeing them, finding new things to admire, new details to point out to you. You find it hard to keep up, only because your eyes seem more interested in observing him. You’ll tell him later that you were right in thinking he’d make every painting more mesmerizing.
But for now, you stroll together, his hand brushing against yours every now and then. Before long, you’re far from the museum, walking into the chilly Seoul night, his jacket draped over your shoulders.
And you talk, you talk about every painting you’ve seen since his departure, the flowers you’ve picked, and the strawberry field you visited at the end of June. He shares stories of his favorite painters and his beloved dog, Kkami, whom he misses dearly. He speaks of the moon and how your postcards lessened his loneliness. You tell him you’ve kept every card by your bedside, the first and last thing you see each day.
Suddenly your pinky is entwined with his, your cheeks ache from how much you’ve spoken and laughed, your heart lighter than it had ever been.
“Thank you for walking me to my hotel,” you smile softly.
He nods, his thumb swiping across your palm tenderly. It’s only after a while that he speaks again. “I know you said that happiness wears off eventually. But right now, the happiness i feel… I think it will last me for the next four months, at least.”
“Just four months?” you tease, and he giggles, tipping his head back. You wish you had your paintbrushes, your camera, a simple pen, anything to commit his laugh into something tangible.
“For a long time,” he finally says, quietly, resigned. Tomorrow’s flight ticket makes your heart ache, all of the sudden.
“I… I’ll get going. Thank you for inviting me,” you smile, dropping his hand. You know it’ll hurt the more you hold it, the easier it’d be for you to remember the softness of his hand.
So you walk back, you’re near the hotel door, a hand suddenly wraps around your wrist, the security guards both discreetly look away.
“Yn,” Hyunjin turns you around, his eyes are as wide as the full moon hanging close to earth, listening in to your conversation.
“You didn’t- you didn’t show me your paintings.” he says a bit too quickly, desperately.
“What?” you ask, confused.
“Back in New York, you promised to show me your paintings. You didn’t.”
“You remember?”
Hyunjin's chest heaves in response, his warm palms cradle your cheeks, his eyes speak of a yearning you haven’t thought existed. When his lips crash upon yours, fervently, passionately, like the collision of all stars in Starry Night, you have your answer.
He remembered. He remembered as much as you.
Epilogue— seven months later.
“Now… next question,” Hyunjin grins as he takes out a folded paper from a glass jar, five sets of camera’s all pointed at him in the shooting set of Elle Korea.
“If you could feel only one emotion for the rest of your life, what would you choose?”
Hyunjin puts the paper down, adjusts the sleeves of his Versace blue silk shirt. He doesn’t need to think too much to answer— he already has his reply.
“Someone told me, a long time ago, that hope keeps you going longer than happiness. Because happiness wears off eventually. But hope doesn’t. hope is like a flickering flame, it surges and it dims, but it doesn’t go out, so I choose hope.” he smiles suddenly, eyes looking into those of the staff behind the camera.
“That got deep all of the sudden, right? Done worry, Stay, I have hope, happiness and love, all at once.”
He chuckles quietly, picking up the last piece of paper.
“Finally… who’s your favorite painter? Ah, easy, it’s Vincent Van Gogh.”
“What's your favorite painting by him?” the shooting director asks behind the camera, his eyes fixate on the lens. He knows his love will be watching.
“A woman with a child on her lap. It’s not very known, but… if you look into it closely, beautiful things might come into your life and change it forever.”
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from left to right, Woman with a Child on her Lap, 1883 — Portrait of Gauguin, 1888— The Potato Eaters, 1885—The Hill of Montmartre with Stone Quarry, 1886— Almond Blossom, 1890— The Starry Night, 1889.
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artssslut2 · 4 months ago
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New Normal
Dilf!Art x Reader
Summary: A lazy morning with Art Donaldson.
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You and Art became inseparable soon after you started dating, well as inseparable as you could be while Art was raising a five year old. You had met Lily for the first time a while ago and she loved you, she called you her best friend, it was the sweetest. Nowadays you and Lily would spend more and more time together.
However you never slept over when Lily was with Art. You didn’t want her to be confused or get too used to you being around all the time. Even though Art was sure you were it for him. He was a father first and a great one. Tashi had Lily most weekends - when she wasn’t out of town coaching, but this weekend she was home and had their daughter. Art always misses Lily so much, but it was nice to have some alone time with his girlfriend. You stayed over since Thursday, it was amazing. Art was so romantic and caring. It was like you were royalty anytime you were around him.
You rolled over in the morning still groggy from waking up, you saw your boyfriend laying next to you admiring you sweetly
“Hey sleepyhead” Art whispered tucking hair behind your ear. You smiled and kissed his hand as a response “think about how great it will be when you live here.” He hinted curling up next to you
“Oh yeah?” You chuckled with a raspy sleep voice “when’s that gonna happen?” Art looked at you lovingly and took a breath
“Soon, when I propose.” He winked, your heart started pounding and you felt 100% awake. You loved art and wanted a future together, you knew this talk would come but it caught you off guard in a good way.
“Yeah?” You asked with an enormous smile that made Art return the smile
“Yeah” he chuckled “if you’d want that” he followed joking around because he knew the answer. You nodded enthusiastically and he laughed then you laughed crawling up into his lap giggling like a kid
“I just… gotta talk with Lily and come up with a plan so that she feels good, I don’t want her to feel left out or anything.” He told you in his concerned dad mode. You loved seeing him as a father, watching him worry about his little girl made your heart melt
“You’re a really great dad, you know.” You smiled, he let out a soft exhale and smiled slightly, you felt butterflies in your stomach before asking him what’s on your mind “D-do you… want to be a dad again?” You asked shyly. You were young and still wanted more kids, surprisingly it’s something you hadn’t talked about. You couldn’t read his face and started to panic a little “maybe… later on like someday?” You continued nervously. Then a smile spread on his face and a tear formed in his eye
“Yeah. Yeah I would love that.” He said wiping a tear before it could fall.
“Baby are you okay?” You asked holding his face and he just continued smiling
“Of course I’m okay. I just never thought this would happen to me… I thought I was done with that stuff I felt kind of I don’t know unlovable. I’m thankful for Tashi but that marriage took everything out of me. But when I met you. Baby when I met you everything changed, I felt so alive again for the first time in so long. I love you so much y/n.” He said teary eyed. You hadn’t seen art this emotional. It made you tear up too, watching Art learn to love himself again was one of the greatest things to watch.
“Art you deserve the world. You the greatest partner and father and role model, I’m in awe of you everyday. I want to help give you the marriage and life you deserve.” You touched your forehead to his.
“I’m gonna give you everything.” He said kissing your forehead and then you passionately. Then he felt his phone go off. He wouldn’t normally pick it up when he was spending time with you but since it could be about his daughter he did. He looked at it with slight disappointment
“Tashi has to catch a flight she needs me to go pick Lily up.” He told you. He wasn’t upset, it’s not that he didn’t want to pick up Lily. Not that at all, he just hated seeing Tashi choose work over their daughter more and more. He never wanted Lily to feel how he felt.
“Oh, do you want me to head out ?” You asked understandingly
“No… come with me. Lily will be happy to see you.” He told you putting a shirt on. You wouldn’t go with him on drop offs or pickups you tried staying out of the day to day routine. “You sure?” You asked
“Absolutely. Gotta get used to the new normal.” He smirked buckling his belt. Your heart fluttered and you nodded.
You and Art got to Tashi’s about thirty minutes later, Art went up to the front door and didn’t even get half way there before Lily burst through the door and ran straight into his arms, it made you smile and think about what a good man he was. He put Lily in his hip and then met Tashi by the door. They talked for a minute and then Art gestured towards his car and Tashi gave a quick wave in your direction. Then the door shut and Lily and Art were on their way to the car.
“Y/N!!!” Lily greeted excitedly leaving from the backseat to give you a hug,
“Lily!” You returned and Art smiled
“Y/n are you coming home with us?” She asked with the same scrunched up smile her dad had
“Yes of course I am!” You matched her energy and she was ecstatic “we’re gonna stop at Starbucks first though right?” You asked leaning towards Art and he gave you a smile
“I guess so” he said playfully as you have Lily a wink and she laughed.
You couldn’t wait to officially be apart of their family, they were your world.
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estcaligo · 2 months ago
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Sebek and Romance
Some thoughts after this event update
I really liked this small detail in this part of the event - a "bittersweet" (or "sweet and sour" literally, from Japanese) moment between Sally and Jack. When she leaves her basket for Jack (which Trey refers to as a "bento"), we get to see the NRC guys reacting to that display of affection.
Surprisingly, Sebek's reaction was very calm and mature.
When Grim says "Bittersweet? I wanna try eating it!"
Sebek comments "Haha. Grim, that's something even you can't devour" in a calm manner.
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In many fanworks, especially fics, Sebek is often depicted as inexperienced or nervous when it comes to matters of love. I enjoy this interpretation too because it can be funny sometimes. But understanding and reacting to romantic interactions is a learned skill (like any social skill), and we should remember a few points:
Sebek has loving parents who have three children. Considering the history of their relationship, I imagine they aren't shy about showing how much they love each other, including in front of their kids. I'm sure Mama Zigvolt has, at least once, explained to Sebek that this is because Mama and Papa love each other very much. So, Sebek is familiar with these kinds of feelings from his family.
Books, books, books.
Books are a big part of Sebek's life - for hobbies, studies, and bonding (for example, with his grandfather or the Prefect). He reads a lot on various topics, and naturally, throughout his life, he must have come across books with romantic themes. We can learn a lot from books, including social skills, even if it's only in a descriptive sense. So, Sebek has also learned about romance through literature.
Arts and culture.
Sebek is familiar with operas and musicals, as mentioned in the Endless Halloween event. We can assume he has some interest in them or, at least, participates in watching them with his family nowadays too (because he mentioned Zigvolts spend quite a lot of time together, like attending parks, so why not.)
We don't know what kind of plays he watches, but we can assume there are at least some romantic motifs, as is often the case in classic operas and theater. Watching actors - who often exaggerate emotions - could give him an understanding of how romantic situations unfold, and this exposure can likely have an impact on him. 
He also does thorough research into the arts when required, and some romantic themes might come up. For instance, if he knows Aurora, he must be familiar with her story, including her love interest and the kiss plot (though TWST may have twisted these stories, I presume core elements like the love story remain intact). So, Sebek can learn about romance thought art.
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Lilia's supervision.
Sebek spends a lot of time with Lilia as his pupil, along with Silver, so naturally, he absorbs a lot of information about the world from his teacher - not just combat skills. And, well, Lilia's wisdom might be mischievous, if not dubious at times. In Ghost Bride event, it's noted that one of Sebek's visions of courting his future partner involves…well
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which is kind of cute, if you ask me.
So, coming back to this event's reaction:
Seeing the display of affection between a loving couple is nothing new for Sebek, and he understands it surprisingly well.
At least when it comes to other people...
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solxamber · 2 months ago
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Hello! I saw that you said it was fine to request still, so if it's alright I'll give you my thoughts/promt if it's fine by you.
Also wanted to say i love you're fanfics! Super entertaining and well written so i was wondering if you could write one that's Vil x mermaid! Reader (romantic) the prompt is-
Vil has been slowly falling in love with the reader; not just by her beauty but her personality the two have these little meet ups where she sings/the two talk endlessly and just enjoy eachothers company, but what I'm getting with this,is that Vil would take time to process his feelings but eventually he gets there and confesses. Maybe it could be a friends x lovers?
whatever you want to do with this idea is cool beans, I just really want to see what you come up with!! Alright,that's all much love ♡♡
Vil Schoenheit x Mermaid! Reader
the idea is so big brained!!! I hope you like it <3
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Vil has always appreciated beauty. He lives and breathes it—the art of refinement, the craft of elegance. But lately, beauty has taken on a new form for him, and it looks suspiciously like you. He can’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but he knows it’s tied to those secret meetups you two share by the shoreline.
You’re a mermaid, and you make a point to remind him of that every time he mentions something about the "unbearable" human world. You always roll your eyes dramatically, your tail shimmering in the moonlight as you laugh at his over-the-top complaints about fashion disasters, inferior skincare routines, or the latest scandal in the entertainment industry.
"You humans are so fragile," you often tease, resting your chin on your hand as you float lazily in the water. "Honestly, Vil, it’s a wonder you haven’t all crumbled under the weight of your own drama."
He gives you a sharp look every time, but there’s always a trace of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "And yet, here you are, meeting up with one of these fragile humans every week."
"I didn’t say you weren’t entertaining," you retort with a sly grin. "It’s like watching a soap opera, except with more skincare tips."
Vil chuckles, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, which somehow manages to stay flawless even in the salty sea breeze. "You’d be lost without my advice. I’ve seen your seaweed face masks."
You pretend to gasp, putting a hand to your chest. "Seaweed is a perfectly valid skincare ingredient! In fact, it’s far superior to that toxic concoction you call moisturizer."
"Seaweed smells like the bottom of the ocean."
"And you don’t?"
That’s how it always goes—banter, teasing, comfortable silences filled with the soft crashing of waves, and eventually, music. You sing sometimes, when the mood strikes you. It’s never anything planned; it just happens. Vil always listens, captivated, because your voice is something he can't quite describe. It's raw, but pure, untouched by the expectations of the stage or the pressures of fame.
Sometimes he sings back, though he pretends he’s only doing it because you insist. "Come on, Vil. Just a few bars. You know you want to."
"I am a professional," he says, crossing his arms. "I don’t perform on a whim."
But you know how to coax him, and soon enough, he’s harmonizing with your lilting melody, his smooth, controlled voice intertwining with yours in a way that makes the night feel magical.
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It’s been months of these little meetings, and Vil has never been quite sure what to make of you. You’re beautiful, of course—stunning, really—but that’s not what has him coming back to the shore every week.
It’s the way you make him feel completely at ease, the way you challenge him without being mean-spirited, the way you listen to him vent about things you couldn’t care less about yet still offer thoughtful responses.
And then there’s that laugh of yours—sharp, like the crack of a wave against the rocks, but warm enough to make him feel lighter every time he hears it.
He’s always valued control—over his image, his career, his emotions—but with you, he’s found himself slipping. He realizes, with some discomfort, that he’s been looking forward to these meetings a little too much. It’s not just the singing or the banter anymore. It’s... you.
That thought bothers him, because Vil Schoenheit does not get "distracted." He doesn’t fall for anyone. At least, not like this.
But here he is, walking down to the beach again, heart beating faster than usual as he anticipates seeing you. Tonight, though, something feels different. Maybe it’s the way the moon is hanging lower than usual, casting everything in a silvery glow, or maybe it’s the fact that Vil can’t deny his feelings anymore.
You’re already waiting for him when he arrives, sitting on a rock with your tail swishing lazily in the water. "Late again, Mr. Superstar?" you call out teasingly.
"I’m fashionably late, thank you," Vil replies, though there’s a softness in his voice. He takes a seat on the sand, smoothing out his coat with practiced precision before looking at you.
"You’re slipping," you say, eyeing him critically. "Usually, you’d have a comeback ready. What’s the matter? One of your beauty products finally backfired?"
Vil snorts softly, shaking his head. "No, though if it did, you’d be the first to hear about it." He looks out at the horizon, his expression thoughtful. "I’ve just been... thinking."
"Uh-oh," you say, folding your arms over your chest. "That sounds dangerous. What about?"
He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to approach this. Vil has always been calculated, measured in everything he does. Confessing his feelings, though? That’s not something he’s prepared for. He glances at you, and suddenly, the words start spilling out before he can stop them.
"You know, for someone who claims not to care about humans, you certainly seem to enjoy spending time with me."
You raise an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the shift in tone. "Are you fishing for compliments, Vil? Because I don’t need to stroke your ego any more than it already is."
He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, it’s just... You’re always teasing me about humans, about my world, but you keep coming back. Why?"
You tilt your head, considering his question for a moment before replying. "Because you’re interesting, Vil. You’re not like the others I’ve met. Most humans get caught up in themselves, but you... you’ve got a spark. You’re genuine, even when you’re being all high-and-mighty. And, well, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of options for good conversation under the sea."
Vil’s heart skips a beat at your words, and he finds himself smiling despite the nerves building up inside him. "I see. So I’m just your entertainment, then?"
"Oh, definitely," you say, grinning. "But you’re also... more than that."
Vil blinks, his breath catching slightly. "More?"
You nod, your expression softening. "You’re someone I look forward to seeing. I like being around you, Vil. You make me feel... seen. And I’m not just talking about my looks. It’s like you actually care about me as a person, not just a pretty face."
He swallows, his chest tightening as he listens to your words. This is it. He can’t hold it in any longer. "I do care," he says quietly, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "More than you know."
You look at him, your teasing expression fading as you sense the weight behind his words. "Vil...?"
He takes a deep breath, steeling himself. "I think... I think I’m falling for you."
There. He said it. And now his heart is racing, his palms are sweating, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Vil Schoenheit is unsure of himself. He braces for your reaction, half expecting you to laugh it off or tease him like you always do.
But you don’t. Instead, you blink at him, your mouth opening and closing as you process his confession. "You... what?"
Vil clears his throat, forcing himself to meet your gaze. "I’m in love with you," he repeats, more confidently this time. "I’ve been falling for you for a while now, and I didn’t want to admit it, but... I can’t keep it to myself anymore."
There’s a moment of stunned silence before you break into a wide smile. "Vil, you absolute idiot."
He recoils slightly. "I beg your pardon?"
You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I’ve been waiting for you to say something for months now! I thought I was going to have to spell it out for you."
Vil blinks, taken aback. "You... you knew?"
"I didn’t know know," you admit, "but I had a feeling. You’re not exactly subtle, Vil."
He stares at you, a mixture of relief and embarrassment flooding his system. "Why didn’t you say anything, then?"
"Because I wanted to see how long it would take for you to figure it out yourself," you say with a smirk, leaning forward slightly. "I didn’t think it’d take this long, though."
Vil narrows his eyes, though there’s no malice in his expression. "You’re insufferable."
"And yet, you love me," you tease, reaching out to cup his cheek gently. "What does that say about you?"
He huffs, though his heart is fluttering in his chest at your touch. "That I have terrible taste."
You laugh again, the sound bright and infectious, and before Vil can say anything else, you pull him in for a kiss. It’s soft, gentle, and Vil feels like his entire world is melting away in that moment. The taste of saltwater lingers on your lips, and for the first time in a long time, Vil isn’t worried about appearances or perfection. He’s just... happy.
When you finally pull away, both of you are smiling like fools. "So," you say, your voice teasing, "does this mean we’re a thing now?"
Vil rolls his eyes, though he can’t stop the grin spreading across his face. "I suppose it does."
"Good," you say, leaning in to kiss him again. "Because I’m not letting you back out of this one, Mr. Superstar."
Vil chuckles against your lips, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to pull you even closer. "Oh, trust me," he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, "I have no intention of backing out. But I do expect you to stop wearing those dreadful seaweed masks."
You gasp dramatically, pulling back just far enough to look him in the eye. "Excuse you! Seaweed is nature’s skincare miracle, Vil. Just because it’s not wrapped in fancy packaging doesn’t mean it’s ineffective."
He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Perhaps, but you’ll have to let me introduce you to something a little more refined. If we’re going to be a couple, I simply can’t allow my significant other to use subpar beauty products."
"Oh, is that so?" you ask, amusement twinkling in your eyes. "I didn’t realize I was dating a beauty tyrant."
"It’s for your own good," he says with mock seriousness, though there’s a warmth behind his gaze that betrays his affection. "Think of it as part of your glow-up. You’ll thank me later."
You can’t help but laugh, your heart swelling with affection for the man in front of you. It’s strange, really—how quickly this has all come together, yet how natural it feels. You never would’ve guessed that your casual banter and late-night talks would lead to this, but now that it’s happening, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Vil reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle but purposeful. "You know," he says softly, his usual sharp tone melting into something softer, "I’ve never met anyone quite like you."
You smile at him, feeling the warmth of his words settle into your chest. "I could say the same about you, Vil. You’re not as scary as people think, you know."
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "That’s a well-maintained persona, I’ll have you know. Can’t let people think I’m soft."
"Oh, but you are," you tease, poking him lightly in the chest. "At least with me."
He scoffs lightly, though there’s no real bite behind it. "I’ll deny it if you tell anyone."
You laugh, resting your forehead against his as you savor the closeness between you. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel completely at peace, as if everything has fallen into place. Vil, with all his elegance, wit, and sharpness, has somehow become the person you’ve come to care about more than you ever thought possible. And now, as he holds you close, you know that you wouldn’t trade this for the world.
"I’m glad it’s you," you whisper, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. "I never thought I’d fall for a perfectionist with an ego the size of the sun, but here we are."
He lets out a soft, genuine laugh, his arms wrapping around you more securely. "I never thought I’d fall for someone who argues with me over skincare, but I suppose life has a sense of humor."
"Looks like we’re both in for a wild ride, then," you say with a grin.
Vil hums in agreement, his hand gently stroking your hair. "As long as it’s with you, I think I can handle it."
You smile, feeling your heart soar at his words. There’s a certain magic to this moment—a kind of fairy tale that feels like it’s been written just for the two of you. And as you sit there, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something truly beautiful.
"Well then," you say, pulling back slightly to look him in the eye, "looks like you’re stuck with me, Schoenheit."
"Forever, I hope," he says softly, before pulling you in for another kiss—this one longer, deeper, filled with the promise of something lasting.
And in that moment, with the moon shining overhead and the waves lapping gently against the shore, you know that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together..
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northernstar9 · 4 months ago
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In a relationship with caitlyn kiramman (fluff. SFW)
fem!reader
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Your guys' meeting was somewhat casual. she was awkward and shy at first but slowly let her hair loose around you, eventually asking you out in the most romantic expensive way you can imagine. Dinner at a fancy place, flowers, and at the end of the night took you into a calm quite area so she could tell you her feelings.
Physical touch and gift giving are her primary love language. She always makes sure to meet all your desires, needs, and wants regardless of how unrealistic they may seem she goes to the ends of the earth for you. Likes to kiss and touch you ear kisses and neck kisses are her favorites. gives you random gifts out of nowhere and spoils you rotten.
Always teases you. lets her witty and sarcastic side take over and often pokes fun at you in the cutest way possible
Takes the liberty to write you poems and express her love to you through the art of wring. often leaving notes to you and giving you hand written letters
Takes you to the shooting range with her to practice her skills and loads of times teaches you how to shoot a gun
Is very clingy. always tries to finish work so she can go back and see you clinging onto you the rest of the night
Whenever she gets the chance she always loves to hop in the shower with you and washing your hair.
Very calm and gentle with you sometimes babying you
Knows EXACTLY how you want to be treated and treats you accordingly even before you have to ask.
Often takes you out on luxurious dates shopping at your favorite places and buys you the most expensive accessories or whatever you like.
Very attentive and listens to whatever you have to say. if you say you like something you'll have it within the same hour
If she upsets you she gives you your space and tries to make it up to you after a few hours by buying you your favorite chocolates flowers and even tries hand making something for you, then spoiling you endless kisses and cuddles
At the beginning of your guys relationship she would sneak you into her room so her parents wouldn't take notice of you. you guys would giggle as you stumbled your way into her room
you would always introduce her to different artists and styles of music as she didn't really know a lot of things are her music taste is quite bland
After introducing her to new music you and her would dance around in her room to it in the most fun way possible it was terrible but great memories.
When she finally introduced you to her parents she was nervous of what they might think,, nonetheless she didn't care as she loved and would go to war for you. her mum wasn't very fond of you but her dad adored you simply because caitlyn loved you. soon after her mum and you got close and she ended up being fond of you for making her daughter happy.
After introducing you to her parents you got invited to many soirees filled to the brim with rich snobby people, which you hated. Caitlyn had to engage with all of them to keep the popularity of the kiramman family. As soon as she was done, you both would sneak off and get far away from everyone to have some alone time in order to make out, drink, make fun of all the rich asshats, and have lighthearted heartwarming conversation
Took you to many new places to explore outside of piltover and showing you all around the world.
Everytime she had a stressful day she'd cuddle up next to you to binge watch trash tv and have a good laugh.
Would always cook you your favorite meals and breakfast in bed
Has a really bad sweet tooth and would always take you to different shops to eat sweets and be together
Loved having deep conversations with you and found deep comfort in venting to you about her life has a kid and all the pressure she felt growing up
Gives you random compliments. simply adores and cherishes your mere existence.
Goes on mini rants to you to everyone and likes to show you off.
Randomly drops a long heartfelt statement about how much she loves you and how you make the happiest girl on planet earth.
thats it. thank you for reading!!! if you like this and wanna make a request you are more than free to ^^ have a good day lovelies <3
take this heart for an extra good day
/)/) ( . .) ( づ♡
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mysticheathenn · 6 months ago
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Messages From The Art of Not Giving a F*ck
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is all about messages from things that you should not be caring or giving a f*ck about. This could be you having the fear of being seen. What does the world think of you at the gym? Basically, petty things that stop you from living your life.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
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Pile l:
What should you not give a f*uck about? Tarot: 8 of Cups, 7 of Wands (reversed), Awakening, 9 of Cups, The High Priestess
The opinions of others concerning any and everything you do. You are meant to shine and show up as your most authentic self pile l. You do not need anyone's permission, advice, or even guidance on knowing who you are or what you should do with your life especially if these people are doing the exact opposite of what they try to preach to you. For some of you, I am getting that there is a family member or even just family in general who likes to dictate everything that you do and who you are. While I can't tell you what to do and can only provide you guidance for your situation, please ask yourself are these people happy? Do they ask anyone what they should do with their life and who they should be? Are they paying any bill of yours or financially supporting you? If you have answered no to any of these questions, my suggestion and only suggestion and opinion is to stop paying attention to anything that comes out of their mouth when it regards to you. I have a story for you once upon a time a little mystic heathen had parents and family who would dictate and tell little heathen what to do up until it got time to actually put their money where their mouth was and would back out while telling little heathen still what to do. Little heathen wanted to major in English while her parents medicine or computer science. It wasn't until little heathen saw that no one was paying the bills but herself that the only opinion that mattered with what she majored in, where to move, what career, and who I should be friends with was the opinion of her own. She broke free and stopped giving a dam because once you give someone the power to mold and control you it never stops. Unless the opinion from others saw red flags that I did not see everyone's opinion or suggestions could fuck off. Again this is all a suggestion and my opinion as you're an adult and can make your decisions for yourself but if you have been looking for a sign as to what you should do, this is it. Be free and release yourself from the holds of others that hold you at a standstill or make you unhappy.
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Pile ll:
What should you not give a f*uck about? Tarot: 10 of Pentacles (Reversed), 2 of Cups, Queen of Cups, 5 of Swords (reversed), Knight of Cups, Queen of Wands (reversed)
Validation from romantic partnerships. I get the strong feeling from this pile that you love to watch and read future spouse pick-a-card readings. No matter the topic of love when it comes to tarot you are there waiting to see what it has in store for you. It is also similar to how you are in a relationship. You see the validation from your partners that you are good enough. Some of you might even have a small bit of pick-me energy. Whenever your partner says jump you don't ask how high you keep jumping and ask them if this is good enough and if it's not you keep jumping higher until they are satisfied not realizing that you, darling, are the prize. People should be jumping through hoops for you and not the other way around unless the energy is being reciprocated but I need you to understand that you are powerful just you alone without the opinion or approval of a love interest. You don't need anyone by your side at all. I know you're thinking I know I don't need anyone but I want someone...do you know pile ll. Do you really know that you don't need anyone? You are the Queen of Wands and the Queen of cups pile ll, you turn a house into a home, food into a cooked meal, etc. Anything someone gives you, you multiply it and tax interest and you are out here answering questions like "What do you bring to the table?" as if you aren't the table, the napkins, silverware, plates, and whole packaged deal. See yourself through the lens of a goddess/god. You are powerful, start acting like it, and stop putting yourself through hoops for someone who wouldn't do the same or doesn't even wash their own ass not knowing their shit stinks, they are no one special.
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Pile lll:
What should you not give a f*uck about? Tarot: 2 of Cups, 3 of Swords, 6 of Cups, 6 of Pentacles, The Wheel
Pile lll you may have also been slightly drawn to pile ll as both your piles kind of go hand in hand. Pile ll is all about validation from being in a romantic relationship while yours is simply you acting as if being single is the worst thing in the world. As mentioned in Pile ll you probably watch and read a lot of love and Future Spouse pick-a-card readings because you have a hard time being by yourself. If not pick a card readings you read a lot of romance novels. Your favorite authors are probably Emily Henry, Ana Huang, Ali Hazelwood, Lauren Asher, Elsie Silver, etc. You watch as others around you fall in and out of love and you want that for yourself. If romance was oxygen you would die the moment you're not with someone within .5 seconds and I need you to release the need for romance just for a split second. Enjoy singlehood and realize that not everything is about love. There is more to life than being in a partnership with someone. You may not think that but have you tried and I mean really tried to enjoy being single? Travel to other places, dining out alone, watching a movie all without someone constantly talking or ruining the moment with spoilers. This message is only for a small few of you as it is very specific but you need to leave your ex alone. Stop thinking, dreaming, looking at their social media, or even reaching out to them. What's done is done...don't let someone tell you they don't want you more than once. This also goes out to those who are in situationships wanting a relationship from their person. They are telling you with their actions for some time now that they don't like you they just want you for your body and the things you can do for them. You are a placeholder until they find that person they want a commitment from. That was a specific message for those who resonated with the message but to continue on with the general reading love is beautiful, kind, and sweet, but it's not the end of the world if you don't have someone by your side. You are free to live life beautifully without someone else there to witness it. You remind me of the era when everyone would always post that they were going to the gym on Facebook and the meme was "If you don't post that you're at the gym, did you even go." If you have fun without someone being there with you to also have fun...did it even happen. Yes...yes it did pile lll. One day you will find a beautiful and harmonious relationship but until then enjoy singlehood. Also, give the love readings a break. Go outside and touch the grass for 30 mins everything will be fine.
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Pile lV:
What should you not give a f*uck about? Tarot: 3 of words, The emperor, Ace of Swords (reversed), Page of Swords (reversed), The Empress (reversed)
Pile lV You are my only pile where I have to tell you to give a f*ck about something. You've been through heartache, after heartache, and loss to the point you have closed off your heart to the world because of how many times you have been hurt. This is leading you down a path where sometimes you can't focus or make the best decision because you have closed off your heart to the world or even love in general that anything where you need to involve feelings, showing a small bit of compassion, or even empathy goes out the window. Sometimes even logic goes out the window because you are so strung on not getting yourself tangled up in anything where it could lead to heartache or betrayal. For most of you I am getting this is a relationship or several might I add. While others of you probably had a shining light. You were a lighthouse pouring your beautiful light, energy, and guidance out onto the world for others to take advantage of you and make you cold, aggressive, or deemed in the eyes of a few, an asshole. I need to remind you that it is okay to open your heart to others or even love again Pile lV. I get it, it's scary thinking about the chances of being hurt again but I have to remind you that, this is part of life. You get knocked down and you get back up again but don't harden yourself off to the world. Not when the world needs so much kindness and love right now. There is already so much hate and lack of compassion in this world, open yourself up again even if it is for a little bit or for certain situations. The things that happened to you weren't meant to harden you up but to teach you lessons about boundaries and having self-respect and love for yourself. Instead, you hardened up instead of doing the work that is necessary to establish standards and boundaries for yourself. Do the work. Open yourself up again. The world needs your kind and gentle heart the way it was always intended.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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jbaileyfansite · 16 days ago
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Interview with W Magazine (2024)
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Jonathan Bailey has traveled the world to promote Wicked, but there was one person he was especially eager to share the film with: his 94-year-old grandmother. She nurtured his love for musical theater and encouraged him to pursue ballet as a child, thus shaping his career in the arts.
So, the day after Wicked came out in the U.K., Bailey hosted a private screening at a local cinema for four generations of his family. While sitting in between his nana (who had painted her nails green for the occasion) and his mom and dad, Bailey became overcome with emotion.
“It’s a miraculous thing to know that what it came down to is having parents who let me go to the local village hall, and a grandparent who let me play, dance around and sing, and be free at such a young age,” Bailey tells W. “If you can catch a passion and just ring-fence it at such a young age, you never know what it can amount to.”
Adapted from the iconic Broadway stage musical, the film, which is set before the events of 1939’s The Wizard of Oz, chronicles the friendship between Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), the future Wicked Witch of the West, and her classmate Galinda (Ariana Grande), later known as Glinda the Good.
Bailey’s scene-stealing portrayal of Fiyero Tigelaar, the charismatic Crown Prince of Winkie Country, only reaffirms his status as a Hollywood triple threat. In fact, “Dancing Through Life,” the earworm that serves as his character’s introduction at Shiz University, just cracked Billboard’s Hot 100 charts this week. (“That’s amazing. Do I get a certificate? What happens now?” Bailey quips.)
Bailey began rehearsing for Wicked in 2022 while shooting Fellow Travelers, the groundbreaking Showtime limited series that earned the 36-year-old his first Emmy nomination, and the third season of Bridgerton, the smash-hit Netflix romantic drama that made him a household name. Speaking on a video call from London in early December, the British star reveals that he is in the middle of reprising his role as Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, who is expecting his first child with wife Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley).
“There’s such an important relationship with the [Bridgerton] bros that has been developed over the series. Season four is going to be Luke [Thompson] and Yerin [Ha] being absolutely extraordinary, and there’s a whole plethora of new characters coming in,” Bailey says. “It’s so nice to come back, and it’s about celebrating the romance stories we’ve had and digging into the ones that are starting.”
Patience will have to be a virtue for Wicked and Bridgerton fans alike; the second half of the former, which Bailey coyly describes as “rich, bruising and hopeful,” will premiere next November, while the latter will debut in 2026.
How did you think about building your own interpretation of Fiyero?
The starting point was “Dancing Through Life.” He creates chaos around him, like he does in that song, because he’s got to match the chaos that’s going on inside. The challenge that I felt was the trope of a cool caddish prince. He’s deeply unnerved by stillness and adhering to rules and structure. That is probably a sign of someone who’s never really experienced love. When you see someone causing that sort of disturbance, it’s usually because they’ve never felt seen. An organizational psychologist, Adam Grant, sent me a message saying, “It’s a masterful portrayal of superficiality masking depth.” Out of all the things I’ve heard, that is the thing I’m going to get printed on a T-shirt.
The Shiz library scene was inspired by the work of Fred Astaire in Royal Wedding. What did you want to convey in those moments?
Fiyero has to come in and change the physical language and the emotional landscape of that school in one number. His fluidity, ease, and elasticity speak to his ability to maneuver and avoid. He’s quite avoidant. He has these bright, shining moments with everyone but never really allows the other person to land it with him. For those who understand the physical language of Fiyero, there are many Easter eggs and nods to what happens to him later in the story.
Fiyero is at the center of a love triangle between Elphaba and Galinda. What do you think he sees in each of them?
The brilliant thing about the film is that these slightly trivial tropes mask extraordinarily deep and shifting understandings of social experiences. The superficiality, the privilege, and the sense of easy chemistry make sense with Glinda. But I feel like he’s yearning for something more, and, as Elphaba sees, he’s unhappy and depressed. Fiyero and Elphaba can click in terms of the way they sing, dance, and move together. Elphaba has a calming presence on Fiyero and allows him to be himself. It’s a real privilege to meet someone who sees you for who you really are.
Are there any songs from the second Wicked movie you are most excited about?
“No Good Deed”—I cannot wait to see that come together. And “Thank Goodness”—it’s just such an incredibly operatic, Wagnerian opening. We know how brilliant the girls are, and I’m so excited to see the tonal shift that will inevitably happen to get to the end of the story.
You’ve been leveraging the success of projects with massive, global appeal (Bridgerton, Wicked, the next Jurassic World) to return to the theater (like your next role in Richard II).How have you been balancing these big tentpole franchises with projects that feel more niche and intimate?
I always lead with joy, and I’ve never accepted a job cynically. It goes back to this instinct—it feels like romance—where you have butterflies in your stomach and clarity of thought. I go back to the stage because I want to get better—and I want to be the best I can be. The best performances I’ve ever given on screen have been directly after coming off stage, where you hone your craft every single night. It’s brilliant, joyful, academic, and exhausting.
I’ve read more scripts in the last four years than probably in 20 years of working. It’s amazing to get sent scripts that you’re like, “This is absolutely brilliant. It’s not quite right for me, but I wonder if I can help that get made.” I’ve got a producer's hat that’s been popped on a few times in the last year, and I’m sure it’ll be coming out to play soon.
I want to keep working until something like Fellow Travelers isn’t seen as niche. We’re only on this planet for a short time, but if Fellow Travelers can be a mainstream show by the time I’ve finished my innings, I’d be very happy.
The last time Bridgerton viewers saw Anthony and Kate, they were on their way to India to meet with Kate’s family. Now that those characters are married, what are some of the new layers you’ve found in their relationship?
Anthony and Kate are these two planets that have always been in orbit of each other, and they finally come together. But then, what is life beyond [their courtship]? What’s so interesting about Anthony and what I so enjoyed in his season one arc is his relationship with duty and the power that he wielded over Daphne and his family, the isolation that he felt, and the anger that ensues because of [the passing of] his father.
I always said that you want Anthony to smile, and he does with Kate; he’s found his soulmate. In season three, they have that playfulness and, for the first time, they disregard anything that’s going on around them. They were the heart of every bit of drama and complication and, my God, how dramatic it was! Now suddenly, they’re having the time of their life, getting to play games again. They’re having a baby—everything they’ve ever wanted. What’s brilliant is to see how there are elements of yourself that you can’t grow out of. So, maybe, we’ll see hints of Anthony from season one.
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dentos-wife · 2 years ago
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Let’s talk how about Chrom and Robin’s bond evolved over time
With everyone clamoring over the new emblem I wanted to take a look back how we got here with their relationship and why I think at this point Chrobin is the intended or inferred Chrom pairing when it didn’t used to be.
In 2012 we got Fire Emblem Awakening, and as Chrom was related to Marth, his inferred pairing was Sumia a pegasus knight as a nod to Caeda, Marth’s canon wife. Granted because part of Awakening’s charm is you could pair anyone up, you didn’t have to pair Chrom up with Sumia if you didn’t wish to. But to IS she was the intended choice.
She had special scenes with Chrom and was the most likely to end up paired with him if you weren’t gunning for a specific wife for him
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And you see her here in the opening with Lucina
Robin is you, the avatar, they don’t even have official art, just them with a hood
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They had a canon design what we all know now but it wasn’t really used. And that should have been it as far as IS was concerned. Awakening was their last hurrah. And then FE blew up.
Robin’s canon design is now getting used, both the male and female version are now in Smash Bros. Then we have Warriors and Heroes and the Awakening cast shows up more. But not Sumia. Perhaps it’s because she’s not popular or the people flocked to Cordelia instead but she is the pegusus knight everyone loves. Sumia isn’t even in Warriors or the base FEH she gets added much later to FEH only with other less popular Awakening characters.
It’s here when FE became more maintstream I believe that IS changed their tune on Sumia being the intended wife and retconed it. I fully think Sumia was dropped and they no longer had an intended pairing for him all because she just wasn’t popular. Him and Robin were close of course they always were, obviously some would see it as friendship others would see it as something more the usual nothing really changed there.
And then 2022 ten full years after Awakening’s release...this happened
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Couple things here. I fully believe the reason Chrom was paired with MRobin here instead of FRobin is for two big reasons reasons.
1) If they paired him with FRobin it canonizes a pairing so MRobin is the safer option, FEH doesn’t usually pair men and women unless they’re already a pairing. So MRobin got paired with Chrom and FRobin was on her own but she still has lines about how much Chrom meant to her.
2) MRobin is the more popular Robin as has been shown every year in CYL and he’d even win next year
So Chrom and Robin were always close it was a no brainer to make them a duo unit, they picked the male version on a very family oriented banner.
That said some of these lines...well let’s just say if a man and a woman were saying that to each other there would be no doubt here. Imagine if this Robin was the female version
Robin: There's Lissa, Emmeryn, Lucina, Frederick... I think we've got gifts for everyone. Don't we? Chrom: Well, all but one. What would you like your gift to be, Robin? Robin: What? Me? You can't just come out and ask like that, you know. There are rules! Chrom: You know I don't care about that. Just tell me what you want. Robin: Truthfully...I can't think of anything. Chrom: You don't want anything? Aw, come on. Think of the bind that puts me in. Robin: You gave my life meaning when I had nothing—not even my memory. The sense of purpose I've found at your side, working for peace in the world, is all I could ever ask for. Chrom: You're not alone in that, you know. I feel the same way. That's why I wanted to give you something nice. To show you how I feel. Robin: All right, all right. In that case, why don't you give me one of those flowers you're wearing? Chrom: It's only going to wilt. Robin: I'll press it into one of my books. That way I'll never forget this Day of Devotion.
Snippet from their duo convo. Usually when someone gives flowers it’s considered a pretty romantic gesture I’ve heard plenty of people call this alt playfully the gays and yeah this is very strong.
FRobin even comments on them in one of her lines.
“That man with Chrom is a Robin from another world, right? They get along so well, I'm almost jealous...“
There was no need for that line at all, we can tell from their lines how flipping close they are but they felt the need to have another character comment on it in base lines
I do believe MRobin was used not to canonize a pairing...at first. And then they gave up because it looked like people really liked it going even further in the next year.
In Awakening Chrom and Robin refer to themselves as two halves of the same whole which is already a loaded term. But it’s never been used after and was just part of the game
Enter the next time they pair up as the Emblem of Bonds which brought that back for the first time since 2012, in full force
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Correct me if I’m wrong but no one besides them have referred to each other as their other half in Awakening
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Lucina does it in Engage. For reference other half means husband, wife or partner (romantic). I think after the Valentine’s alt they decided sure why not and now they’re really going in with Robin being Chrom’s other half when they only touched the term once past Awakening in a FRobin cipher card. Other half in Engage is Robin and he pops up when engaged with Chrom to mix magic with the attack. I don’t doubt you can mean a friend with this term but when paired with everything else they say to each other, it’s pretty strong evidence it’s further than friendship.
Okay now for the the ultimate Robin is now Chrom’s intended partner view, Legendary Robin also released this year
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“Tactician of Ylisse. Celebrated as Exalt Chrom's other half in the legends that followed their exploits. Appears in Fire Emblem Awakening. “
I saw some people argue exalt could mean Lucina too but no it doesn’t, it clearly means Chorm it says so and if you didn’t believe that, we got a map that was the two called Chrom and his other half. Which is Robin.
His art also references his other half status, he now wears blueish green jewelry which stands for Chrom and the brand of the exalt is on his chest plate
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Finally in his damage art he once again has the symbol of the exalt formed in magic.
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And a ring, some have argued it’s his clothes but usually the magic gauntlets he wears are on his middle finger and not under his gloves; pretty sure it’s a ring, it’s even on the ring finger of his left hand, where you generally put a wedding ring.
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All this together is some very strong evidence, but put it with everything else they’ve done since last year and it’s clear to me, IS now is pushing Chrom and Robin as the intended pairing. Not canon like Marth and Caeda or Alm and Celica, but intended like they do with Eliwood and Ninian and some others I’m probably forgetting. And because MRobin is who they use and their “canon” sort of like FCorrin is the “canon” Corrin, IS is strongly hinting at MChrobin
Which fascinates me, we went from Chrom with a intended implied wife to scrapping it and pretended it never happened to this, Chrom with an intended husband. Him and his best friend, both two guys, very much in love. In ten years IS changed it’s mind on the intended canon pairing that isn’t even possible in the base game. They are a fate defying duo, the emblem of bonds, the exalt and his other half, two halves of the same whole and they are showing that in symbolism harder than ever. I think that’s really cool
To end this I’m aroace and see romance a little differently from the amatonormic norm Chrom and Robin could just be really good friends lord knows I also think friendship should be just as important as romance BUT if they were, it’s very clear they are each others most important person over any wife they might separately have.  But even that doesn’t follow a typical heteronormative relationship no? Chrom and Robin’s bonds are so strong they transcend the concept of romance and friendship as we know it, there is no name for the type of love they share it’s beyond us.
But what about Lucina? (and Morgan) In a world with magic, dragons, people dying and coming back to life, time travel and more the idea of two guys somehow having a child is no longer far fetched at all really, or even surrogates exist.
Also they act like kind of like dads with her and it’s really cute
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Now granted IS could remake Awakening and MRobin will still not be able to marry Chrom and this whole analysis would have been for naught but I think if they do remake it they’ll add it. Look at how many people have been introduced to them just through Heroes and Engage you don’t think people are going to want to pair up the exalt and his other half in their game?
To sum it up, yes there literally is no heterosexual explanation for where IS has taken this. It wasn’t originally the intended pairing but it sure is now, I don’t think there is any room for denial anymore until we see what they do with a remake.
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000-pawz · 7 months ago
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mission p.s.h is a-go! (p.sh) ˚ · .
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park sungho x fem!reader (she/her), college au, art major! reader, art major!sungho, reader is so lovesick, sungho is a nervous wreck, ft. lovingly-bothersome sidekick jaehyun + mom friend roommate yujin, shy extrovert sungho, not so shy extrovert reader <3, mutual pining, puppy love, first kisses, jaehyun has a lot of piercings because why not, the world is your wingman, a story about friendship and first loves!!!!, romantic comedy
warnings: suggestive scene (mdni pleek), some sex jokes, cursing, drinking
wc: 11.3k+
playlist ⋆。˚ "a girl like me" by flowerovlove, "wishlist" by txt, "stylish" by loona, "blooming in the morning" by spool, "serenade" by boynextdoor
a/n: i have been working on this for.... forever..... >3< but it's finally here!!! <3 happy bonedo first anniversary to all who celebrate! also tysm for 100+ followers!!! ^___^ ur support means everything to me. i had so much fun writing this and i hope you guys have even more fun reading!!!
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DEAR DIARY
11:44 a.m | weather: partly cloudy
dear diary,
so today has already gone to absolute shit!!!! i missed my morning lecture because i forgot to put my phone on the charger so it fucking died in the middle of the night and then i realized that my period started 4 days early and i ran out of pain killers and i didn’t have any time to stop by the health center and get some but even if i’m physically dying and rotting away, i HAVE to get my usual chai tea with three pumps vanilla and 1 pump brown sugar but THEN i dropped my chai tea with three pumps vanilla and 1 pump brown sugar in the middle of the courtyard and i was already late to my next class so i didn’t have time to go back and get another one and then i finally make it to fucking studio arts and my usual spot is taken by some sleeping rando who ISN’T EVEN IN THIS CLASS. WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE??? so then i was forced to sit in the back of class and use that stupid squeaky easel that literally wobbles when you BREATHE on it and all of this happened BEFORE 12 O’CLOCK!!!! now i’m—
“watcha writing?” an all too playful voice sounds right behind you, way too close for comfort and you don’t even bother to look up—you already know who it is by the irritating jingle of his dangly jewelry and the snicker that bubbles out of his throat at your annoyed expression.
“fuck off, jaehyun,” you mumble as you continue to recount your horrible day while you wait for the first layer of paint on your easel to dry, the obnoxiously hot pink pen in your hand scribbling ferociously against the white page of your diary. you hear another irksome laugh leave his body before the chair beside you squeaks as someone pulls it out.
“shh, don’t disturb her. she’s poetically releasing her emotions...” out the corner of your eye, you see yujin glance down at your page before slightly wincing, setting her watercolors down on the table slowly. “or something…”
jaehyun takes a seat at the table in front of you, sitting backward in his chair to take a closer look at what you’re writing—any semblance of privacy was long dismissed once you became friends with the two at the beginning of the school year. freshman move-in day had been possibly one of the worst experiences of your life, all thanks to the maltipoo puppy jaehyun tried to sneak into the residence hall and yujin’s immense fear of dogs. you guys have been inseparable since. 
trauma bonding, you think.
jaehyun flicks some of his brown hair out of his vision as his face contorts into something sour. “woah, when did the grinch take over your body?”
yujin scoots away and jaehyun raises his hands in surrender as you suddenly slam your diary shut, mentally rolling your eyes at their antics. 
“woah, when will you learn to stay out of my business?” you shoot towards jaehyun with the straightest face ever, his lips frowning as you slide your diary off of the table and into your bag. 
“hey, don’t take your anger out on me, grumpy pants.” 
and that just so happens to be your final straw—like those mundane moments where you’re having the worst day known to man and then all of a sudden your key doesn’t want to fit in the keyhole and now you want to rip your door off of the hinges—and jaehyun is now that door. you lunge at the pierced man, going straight for his jugular, but yujin is quick to wrap her arms around your waist, pulling you back down into your seat as she shushes you. 
“breathe, y/n, breathe,” yujin speaks in her exaggerated yoga instructor voice, the deep one that makes her sound like she’s high on shrooms. you close your eyes, forcing yourself to think of kittens and rainbows as your shoulders slowly untense. “there we go. smell the tulips and blow out the candles. that’s right. smell the tulips and blow out the—”
“why can’t they be roses?”
your eyes immediately snap open like a vampire at the smell of blood, meeting jaehyun’s highly entertained and highly aggravating expression.
“jaehyun, we talked about this. tulips smell better than ro—”
yujin’s voice is drowned out in your ears once a tall, raven-haired figure strolls into the studio. everything in the background fades to a blur as he makes his way to his usual sketching table, just a few seats away from where you reside. from here, you have a perfect view of his side profile, the sunlight streaming through the open windows lighting up his face heavenly. 
any anger in your body dissipates on the spot.
he’s wearing a baby blue knit sweater—the same sweater he wore on tuesday last week (...not that you remember or anything!)—with baggy light-washed jeans that adorn a little eevee pokemon charm hanging from his front belt loop. the black converse on his feet match yours and you try not to squeal at the slight prospect of a couple's outfit. slung over his body is the green satchel that he seems to take everywhere with him, filled to the brim with notebooks and art supplies. 
his black hair is messy and a little longer than the last time you have seen him. it curls over his eyebrows and down his neck, some tucked behind his naturally flushed ears. his eyelashes are so full, and even though his eyes are slightly obscured by the thin, circular glasses that sit on his nose, you can still make out the delicate shadow they cast onto his doughy cheeks. you wonder if he has a skincare routine from how smooth his skin looks, almost picture-esque as the sunrays illuminate a halo above his head. you swear a chorus of angels begin to sing in your ears.
he’s taking out his sketchpad now, and you watch the way he adjusts his glasses ever so slightly before lining up his charcoal pencils in order of point size next to his page. you’ve never gotten to see his art up close, but you’ve picked up on the fact his medium has always been a pencil of some sort—let it be graphite, pigmented colors, carbon—and you crave to see what his nimble fingers can create. his lips are pressed into a thin line as he completely submerges himself into that little bubble you notice he goes into when he starts to draw. 
you think he looks the most handsome when he’s immersed like this.
you don’t realize you’re staring until you blink and register that park sungho, aka the man of your dreams, aka the most gorgeous person to ever walk these streets, aka an angel from above, is staring directly at you. with this new angle, you can fully see his pouted heart-shaped lips and slightly puffy face—he must’ve just woken up. he’s so perfect, in every way possible. your heart nearly crawls up your throat as he sends a tiny smile your way, his eyes bunching up cutely at the corners. you almost raise your hand to wave back before a voice cuts through your dazed state.
“hey, sungho!” jaehyun calls, waving his hand frantically, the many bracelets on his wrists jingling with the movement; and said sungho waves in response, contained and shy, before turning his attention back to his sketchpad. while you’re slightly disappointed that sungho hadn’t been looking at you, you mentally thank jaehyun for saving you from could’ve-been detrimental embarrassment. 
you slightly deflate, slumping back down into your chair with a tiny huff—and jaehyun watches you from beginning to end, a knowing look in his eyes. 
“look, y/n’s upset her little boobie bear didn’t—”
this time, you grab your barbie-esque pen and chuck it squarely at jaehyun’s nose, the plastic clinking against his nose ring. you hear yujin giggling from beside you, jaehyun shooting her a hopeless look of betrayal.
“you set yourself up for that one, myung,” she speaks before she gets up to fill her paint cup with water. jaehyun rolls his eyes with a scoff, quickly turning his attention back to you—much to your dismay.
“you should try to talk to him. he’s really nice, trust me,” jaehyun suggests with a little wiggle of his eyebrows, not-so-subtly nodding his head in sungho’s direction. your eyes can’t help but trail back over to the tall man’s frame, nearly swooning at the way he pushes his glasses up his nose with his pinky finger, squinting his eyes slightly despite the lenses as his pencil glides across the paper like a ballerina. 
fuck, he’s so cute. you want to die.
“i don’t even think he knows my name,” you sigh, almost dreamily as you spectate from afar. the way he readjusts his grip on the pencil every few seconds, and the way his knee bounces unrhythmically under the table, his pokemon charm shaking with the movement. his bottom lip is caught in between his teeth now and you’re sure you might pass out as he reaches up to run his fingers through his hair, the fluffy locks falling back into place slowly as they nearly defy gravity. 
oh, park sungho. you don’t know how perfect you are.
“girl, you look like a stalker,” yujin appears beside you once again, multiple watercolor brushes knocking against each other as they swim in her now water-filled cup. it’s your turn to glare this time, crossing your arms over your chest as you manage to slump even further in your seat—you aren’t sure how you haven’t fallen to the floor yet.
“i can’t help it! just… look at him,” you whine pitifully, trying to keep your voice down as you glance at him one last time. yup, still gorgeous.
jaehyun groans loudly from his spot, his bracelets clanking as he grips his hair with both hands.
“i am going to bash my head into this table if you don’t speak to him. i don’t know how much more sungho mushy-gushy talk i can take,” he complains, his eyes wide and faux-crazed as he lightly tugs his hair. he looks stupid as hell—you’ve always thought jaehyun resembles the annoying orange.
“that’s if sungho doesn’t decide to run away before she can even open her mouth.”
and there it goes. the real reason why you’ve never gotten the chance to speak to your puppy-love crush. 
it’s a strange phenomenon actually, the way park sungho seems to avoid you like the plague. at first, you thought he was just incredibly shy. maybe he had chronic social anxiety, in which, you wouldn’t blame him at all—you were the exact same way before you got to college, so it would make perfect sense. he’s just a shy, shy guy who doesn’t intend on making small talk; and that would’ve been just fine with you.
but then you saw him interact with like… everyone else in the entire world, and decided to rule out that option because—what? he shows up to every single birthday party he’s invited to, says hi to all of his friends as he passes them on campus, and he even complimented your brooding english professor’s tie once! so there’s no way park sungho doesn’t know how to interact with other humans.
it’s just you. he doesn’t want to interact with you.
not to be selfish and arrogant or anything, but it’s truly a huge blow to your pride. you’ve always considered yourself to be a pretty likable person—maybe a little off-kilter, but not to the point where it literally makes people pack up their things and leave as soon as you enter the room. and yes, sungho has done that before. 
so now you’re stuck in this predicament where you can’t go one night without falling asleep to the idea of holding park sungho’s lovely hand and kissing his squishy cheek and touching his luscious hair, when—in truth, horrible, horrible truth—this exact park sungho doesn’t even want to see your face.
once snapped back into reality, the realization rebirths all of your anger—at the world, at yourself, at sungho “loml” park. yujin mumbles out a little half-assed apology that you completely dismiss and jaehyun snickers as he rises to a stand, throwing something over his shoulder about how he all of a sudden has a sculpture he needs to get started on before he disappears from your sight.
he doesn’t even know how to sculpt.
when you look up, you see jaehyun giving sungho a little goodbye pat on the back, in which sungho returns with a little “see you later” and a smile that bunches his cheeks up like bread rolls. damn you park sungho and your adorable, adorable cheeks.
this is definitely going in your diary tonight.
。‧˚🍞⭒₊˚🍎˚ · .
or at least you thought it would be going in your diary tonight.
because currently, as of 7:28 pm local time, you can’t seem to find that sparkly pink journal anywhere. 
you checked your tote bag, yujin’s bag, jaehyun’s giant pockets, under your seat in the art studio, the cafeteria, and even asked around hoping someone’s heard of it through word-of-mouth—and yet, nothing. no sign of your journal at all.
if you were thinking rationally, you would have maybe thought to check your dorm room. you did end up having lunch in there with the blinds closed after your shitty day and the overwhelming need to disappear from society. or, you might have left it in your french language class because you had pulled it out mid lecture to complain about your horrible view from the very back row. it might have even fell out on your bus ride to the small dimsum restaurant located on the outskirts of your campus. 
but you have been on the edge of snapping since the very moment you woke up this morning, and if you thought jaehyun’s little quips earlier brought you to your limit, then losing your diary now broke the meter.
you glumly take a seat on an unoccupied bench outside of the arts building, trying your best to hold in your tears at the absolute wreck this day has become. no chai tea, early period, squeaky easel, park sungho not even knowing your name—
“um, y/n?”
as soon as the first tear rolls down your cheek, your hear that all too familiar voice in your ears, a tall shadow blocking the slight rays of the moon in the distance. everything feels unreal, almost hallucinatory as your lift your head to see the man of all your dreams standing right in front of you with a shy smile on his perfect, perfect face.
as soon as he locks eyes with you though, his smile falters, his lips turning down into one of the softest frowns you’ve ever seen grace such an angelic face. snapping yourself out of your mini daze, you reach up with the sleeve of your jacket to quickly wipe your eyes. 
not now tear ducts! the love of your life is in your vicinity! and he knows your name!
“hey, sungho! hi,” you rush out in one breath, hoping your voice isn’t too shaky. 
“are you…” sungho’s question starts off as a small mumble, but he quickly cuts himself off with a tiny shake of his head.  “n-nevermind. i just wanted to give this to you.”
you watch him as he digs around in his green satchel for a second before pulling out something bright pink, the street lights reflecting off of the sparkles. you feel your heart leap in your chest at the sight, jumping up from your seat.
“my journal! oh my god, thank you! where did you find it?” you quickly speak as sungho passes you your journal.
“it was in the art studio. i promise i didn’t read any of it so… yea.” 
his fingers lightly brush yours for a split second and the end of his sentence falters a bit. you try not to read into it, but this moment is definitely, for sure going in your journal tonight. your first ever, longer-than-30-seconds encounter with the love of your life. totally disregarding the fact that he saw you crying… 
you clutch the notebook to your chest as you give him a bright beam, trying to keep all of the squealing and fawning locked away in your mind. sungho looks incredibly gorgeous in the low ray of evening lights, strands of his shiny hair tucked behind his ear and falling over his forehead. as the wind blows, you’re able to get a whiff of the sweet cologne he always wears, vanilla and another hidden tone that mixes perfectly.
“thank you, sungho. really, thank you.” your voice is soft as you meet his sparkling eyes; they’re deep and mesmerizing, glittering with stardust as he mirrors your smile. he nods ever so slightly before gripping his satchel strap with both of his hands.
“um, yea. it’s no problem,” he speaks through a small puff of nervous laughter. you’re surprised you haven't melted to the ground in a puddle of love-ridden goo yet. “have a good night.” 
“you too!” you say a little too enthusiastically. sungho simply nods again before he turns on his heel to leave towards the direction he came in. suddenly, he stops, turning back around to face you.
“i… my dorm is that way,” he rushes out before speedwalking past you without giving you a second glance. you hold back a giggle at his cute slip up, covering your mouth with your hand.  
he. is. so. cute. you want to scream the words to the sky. as soon as sungho disappears around the corner, you wip out your phone, your heart pounding in your chest.
to: dumb and dumber
guys. you’ll never fucking guess what just happened.
MISSION P.S.H
6:15 a.m | weather: clear skies
dear diary,
i dreamt of him. again. please kill me already.
“...and then i was like what? because that was the same guy i hooked up with last week!” yujin spills as she dramatically reenacts her encounter at some party she went to last night. you’re having lunch with your friends in the courtyard, the chatter of students, bikes, and overhead planes mixing with the warm breeze.
“i told you he was a fuckboy. and then you called me an annoying virgin,” jaehyun deadpans as he takes a bite out of his sandwich, shrugging his shoulders. you laugh at their bickering from the other side of the table, looking back down at your journal where you are currently doodling the scene in front of you, but with yujin and jaehyun as cats.
yujin rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to rebuttal, but she stops herself as her eyes catch onto something over your shoulder. you watch as her eyes widen toward you, immediately catching onto what that stare means.
‘park sungho incoming. act normal!’
you sit up straighter, trying to act nonchalant as sungho strolls up to your table. as naturally as possible, you lift your gaze toward him, your breath catching in your throat as soon as your eyes lock onto his figure.
today, he’s in a simple white t-shirt, zip-up, and jeans with his classic green satchel, but to you, he looks other-worldly. the sun shines brightly above his head, casting a spotlight onto him as if he were standing solo on a stage. you envision red rose petals falling around him in slow motion as he blinks, his long eyelashes tickling his cheeks with the movement. his skin is slightly flushed from the humid air, his lips full and plush as a smile stretches across his perfect face. 
he’s going to be the death of me, you think, holding back a dreamy sigh.
“i brought those references you asked for,” sungho directs towards jaehyun with his silky smooth voice, reaching into his satchel to pull out a blue folder of papers. you get deja vu, recalling the way his fingers brushed yours last night (and yes, you recapped the moment to yujin and jaehyun at least three times since then.)
“oh, thanks bro! i totally forgot about these,” jaehyun speaks, grabbing the folder from sungho’s perfect hands. “hey, are you still going to riwoo’s party on saturday?”
“yeah, i’ll be there. see you then?” 
“yup! i’m dragging these two along with me.” sungho nods with a small smile before his eyes catch onto yujin.
“your shirt is dope, yujin. i love that band,” sungho compliments and yujin quickly jumps into a recap of how she went to their concert last week. sungho says something about him also being there with a friend and all of it goes through one ear and out of the other. “anyways, i’ll see you guys around.”
sungho gives your table one last smile, his eyes catching onto yours for a split second before he merges off into the crowd of students. the table is silent for a few beats and both of your friends turn their eyes to you, just waiting for you to say something. you sigh as you stare off into the direction sungho disappeared in, resting your cheek in your palm.
“is he avoiding me? he has to be avoiding me… like he talks to you guys but pretends like i’m not even there!” you speak through a dejected pout. yujin eyes you with something akin to pity, completely contrasting jaehyun whose face is decorated with an annoying smile. 
“it’s ‘cause he’s afraid that if he looks you in the eyes, you might eat his soul.”
you completely disregard jaehyun’s comment, running through all of the possible explanations for his behavior in your mind. does he have a secret partner? or maybe he doesn’t like the smell of your perfume? what if he thinks you are butt-fuck ugly and a pain to look at? no… it’s definitely not that. you remind yourself to give your reflection an apology when you get back to your dorm. 
your eyes slowly increase in size as you sit up, a eureka moment taking over your train of thought. the gasp that leaves your lips is a little too loud for a public, communal space, but it doesn’t even register in your brain. 
you’ve got it all figured out.
“guys…” you start ominously, smiling widely at your friends as you brace your hands on the table. “i think he’s playing hard to get.”
jaehyun and yujin stare at you half-incredulously and half-amused, a puff of laughter even passing through jaehyun’s lips while yujin has to turn away to muffle her giggles.
“yu, i think she’s finally lost it.”
you shake your head quickly. “no, no, guys, it all makes sense. i caught him staring at me in class once—”
“anyone would stare if they saw a free-roaming demon in a college art course.”
“jaehyun, i will literally cut your tongue off.”
jaehyun pouts his snakebite-accented lips, turning to yujin with pleading eyes as he gestures towards you on the other side of the table. “did you hear her? that’s actually a threat this time. a real threat.”
yujin sighs, half-heartedly patting jaehyun’s shoulder twice to console him before giving her full attention to you. 
“y/n… i think it’s time to have ‘the talk’.”
you blink blankly at yujin before glancing over at jaehyun who is nodding along to said woman’s words, a playfully solemn look on his face.
“what ‘talk’?... look, if this is about sex, i already know how babies are made so…”
“no, no, not that talk. the park sungho talk,” yujin explains, reaching across the table to place her hand on top of yours. this feels like some weird group therapy session, and to be honest, your best friends are really starting to creep you out in the way that they seem to communicate silently through their eyes.
what the fuck is going on?
“let me explain it to you in simple terms,” jaehyun sits up straight before dramatically clearing his throat. “park sungho plus girlfriend equals no-no. nada. never happened. park sungho plus crush equals ‘AHHHHHHHHH! THE WORLD IS ENDING!’. park sungho see you. park sungho ‘AHHHHHHH!!!!’”
jaehyun shouts in a high-pitched girly voice before doing a little running away motion, covering his eyes as he pretends to tremble before going back to normal.
now it’s time for both you and yujin to stare blankly at jaehyun—the latter looks incredibly proud of himself nonetheless, his chest puffed out confidently after his little performance. you slowly turn your gaze to yujin’s figure, motioning towards jaehyun next to her.
“can i get a translation or something…?”
yujin sighs before flicking jaehyun’s nose ring, resulting in a drowned out complaint about the both of you “teaming up on him” or whatever. you both don’t pay him any mind though—you have bigger things to worry about, such as—
“basically, what he’s trying to say is that sungho has a crush on you, but he’s scared because he’s never had a girlfriend before and he freaks out around you. so he… flees like a little baby rabbit when you’re near him,” yujin concludes with a bright smile, clasping her hands together.
okay.
okay.
this is not what you were expecting to hear during your wednesday afternoon lunch break. everything you’ve ever known, everything you’ve forced yourself to believe comes crumbling down all at once. 
park sungho has a crush on you.
park sungho has a crush on you.
wait.
“and no one has thought to tell me this until now?” you breathe out, your eyes as wide as saucers. jaehyun shrugs, picking up his sandwich to take a bite.
“well, it’s kind of something we found out like today,” jaehyun speaks through a mouthful of lettuce and bacon, yujin nodding along next to him. 
“you know han taesan from our literature class?” yujin asks, leaning towards you as she lowers her voice. you search your fried brain for any familiarity, humming in thought for a second before it clicks.
“the one who dresses like a wannabe kurt cobain?”
“yes, him. so basically, sungho confessed to him about his crush on you. and jaehyun and i, who were magically sitting behind mr. han, just so happened to accidentally see their text messages. so. yeah,” yujin explains.
the silence is loud.
“so what i’m hearing is you guys violated someone’s privacy and now you’re telling me their classified business?” you speak, blinking blankly between then.
“...yes?” jaehyun replies slowly with a guilty smile. you look at them for a few seconds before reaching your hands out for highfives. 
“i knew i could trust you guys,” you affirm as you double highfive them both, jaehyun letting out a little woop woop. “so, what do i do now? i obviously can’t just walk right up to him and ask him out. i’m gonna need a plan if i’m ever going to get him to willingly talk to me.”
“oh, i’m already ten steps ahead of you, babygirl. mission p.s.h is a-go,” jaehyun declares, pulling out his phone. you tilt your head in pure confusion and you’re sure the crinkle between your brows is apparent. 
“mission p—what?”
jaehyun sighs with exasperation—as if you were the cause of all of his troubles in the world—before placing his phone on the table. “mission park sungho. come on, let’s use our head, idiot.”
“i will smash your head into—”
“you will do none of those things,” yujin interrupts with a stern motherly glare before turning to jaehyun. “now can you explain this mission park sungho thing because…?”
jaehyun rolls his eyes before leaning back in his seat with a sly smile on his lips.
“i began working on it last night and i was going to show you guys when i finished, but we’re in a dire, dire situation.” jaehyun sends you dramatically sympathetic eyes and you stick your tongue out at him in return. “it’s simple, really. we just set the bait, and like the little baby rabbit he is, he’ll bite the carrot. then, once our handy work is done, y/n and sungho will live happily ever after in their fairy princess castle. it’s foolproof.”
jaehyun concludes with a triumphant smile before he slowly slides his phone over towards you like a suspicious dealer. you raise a brow at him, but take the phone anyways.
“phase one, get his attention. so just like… get him jealous?” you ask, cocking your head. jaehyun nods quickly in response, his hair bouncing like an overly excited puppy.
“mhm, yup! i know a guy who’s perfect for this.”
“that sounds… sketchy… but a good idea nonetheless.” you squint your eyes a bit as you continue reading the almost illegible notes app ramble. “and then phase two…”
“get him alone. he’s going to be at riwoo’s party, right? right?” you and yujin nod in response. “so we find a way to get him and y/n alone so they can… you know…” jaehyun does some weird, obscure motion with his fingers and yujin gently places her hand on top of his to stop it immediately.
“this is literally phase two, myungjae. slow down,” yujin chastises before turning to you. “what do you think, y/n?”
“we may need to tweak phase two a bit, but this looks… surprisingly safe…” you mutter as you read through the plan once again. “why is phase three just a bunch of question marks and thinking emojis…?”
“i didn’t get to finish it. i had more important things to tend to last night,” jaehyun smiles menacingly. yujin gags and you groan, rolling your eyes.
“i don’t even wanna know,” you say, trying to clear your mind of whatever the hell he meant by that. 
“i guess we’ll just figure something out when we get there?” yujin suggests, looking between you two for approval. you nod in agreement because, well, you’re running out of options here. sungho is one of the world’s most desirable bachelors! you can’t just wait around for another girl to come by and woo him. you need to get to work asap.
“don’t worry. i’ll come up with something. they don’t call me myungstein for nothing,” jaehyun runs his fingers through his hair cockily, trying to subtly flex his nonexistent muscles.
“literally no one… no one calls you that…” you trail off but keep the rest of your words to yourself. you owe it to him for making up this plan in the first place.
at this point, you’re going to run out of pages in your journal before the year ends.
PHASE ONE: GET HIS ATTENTION (easy enough, right?)
11:37 a.m | weather: sunny with a nice breeze
dear diary,
i’ve decided to listen to myung jaehyun for once. i apologize in advance to my future self. i’m desperate okay?!?!?!
“remember what we practiced?” jaehyun whispers to you as you stand outside of the campus cafe where sungho works. yujin is already stationed inside of the cafe to make sure everything goes well. through the big glass window, you see her sitting in the corner with a comically large newspaper and sunglasses sitting low on her nose. not suspicious at all.
“yes. flirt with that guy with the luscious hair and make sure sungho hears,” you recite the exact words jaehyun had told you on your walk here. jaehyun gives you an affirmative hum, dropping his hand onto your shoulder.
“okay, let’s practice right now. pretend i’m luscious hair guy,” you open your mouth to argue, but jaehyun is already getting into character, dramatically running his fingers through his hair, slipping a cartoonish shmoulder on his face. “hey, pretty lady.”
“jaehyun, that’s gross. no.”
“who’s jaehyun? is he your boyfriend? of course a beauty like you would already be taken,” he speaks in a low voice before biting his lip in the least seductive way possible.
you try not to gag at his words, shrugging his hand off of your shoulder. “i’m going in now. bye.” 
drowning out jaehyun’s objections, you open the door of the cafe, the little bells above the door jingling with the movement. your eyes scan the cafe for a second before they land on a familiar figure making small talk with some guy as he serves him coffee. he looks so handsome in his work uniform, a white button-up and brown slacks with a matching brown apron. his hair is a little curlier than usual and he has on his glasses again today. 
you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing this every day. maybe you should come to this cafe more often.
you try to calm the frantic beating of your heart as you give yujin a curt nod. she gives you one back before ducking behind the newspaper again. it’s go time.
it doesn’t take you long to spot “luscious hair guy”, seeing as he’s currently working the front register. he’s tall and attractive, the perfect bait. honestly, you have no idea what jaehyun bribed him with to get him to go with your plan, and honestly, you don’t really want to know. 
you quickly adjust your clothes as you walk up to the counter. luscious hair guy’s eyes lock onto yours and you offer him an affable smile.
“hi!” you greet brightly before leaning in to quickly whisper the code word “p.s.h”. luscious hair guy nods quickly in recognition before the both of you get into character.
“hello! what can i get for you today?” he asks with a glimmering smile, leaning forward in interest. you pretend to think, tapping your lips as you glance up at the menu.
“hm… i’ve never been here before… what do you recommend?” you ask with a (hopefully) flirtatious smile. just then, you notice sungho slip behind the counter to put some dishes away, his eyes widening once he sees your face. it takes less than two seconds for him to duck his head away, turning his back to you as he frantically begins organizing some mugs. 
“the vanilla caramel latte is really good,” leehan suggests, shooting you an award winning smile. someone get this guy a oscar!
“then i’ll get that,” you dramatically glance down at his name tag. “thanks, leehan.”
over the tall man’s shoulder, you notice sungho inconspicuously walk over to the front counter, his eyes flickering over to the both of you for a split second. he busies himself by adjusting the pastry display, but you can see him definitely listening in on your conversation.
“i’m sorry if this sounds odd, but you have a really beautiful smile,” leehan compliments shyly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. you gasp before letting out a small giggle.
“wow, thank you!” you breathe out, blinking up at leehan coyly. “you’re pretty cute yourself.”
“that means a lot coming from a pretty girl like you.” in your peripheral, you see sungho slightly tense up, his entire body stilling for a moment. “i’ll get that right out for you.”
at those words words, sungho abruptly stands up, nearly slamming the display shut before going to wipe down tables. leehan smiles at you once sungho’s back is turned to the both of you, trying to hold in his laughter.
“he’s upset,” leehan mouths, nodding his head towards sungho who is currently aggressively scrubbing an already stainless table. perfect.
you head over to a vacant table, a few away from yujin, but still close enough to whisper “i think it’s working”. yujin lowers her sunglasses with a manicured nail, glancing over at sungho who is aggressively scrubbing another table; his lips are pouted and his eyebrows are slightly furrowed. she turns back to you with a knowing look, nodding her head.
you scroll on your phone for a bit, making sure to update jaehyun who had a presentation this afternoon. you’re sure that if he were free, he’d be in a wig and spectacles, adorned in a trench coat and briefcase right there with yujin. maybe his absence is for the better.
a few minutes later, you hear that all too familiar, lovely voice flow through the quiet buzz of the cafe. you look up from your phone to see leehan moving to plate your order with sungho hot on his heels.
“leehan, i can take that order for you,” sungho speaks, his gentle voice a little sharper around the edges. you see leehan brush him off with a warm smile, adjusting the mug on the tray.
“oh, it’s okay, i’ve got it,” he says, but sungho quickly cuts him off.
“no, no, i insist. really.” sungho gives leehan a tight-lipped smile before shooing him off to take another order. your eyes widen, quickly turning toward yujin who’s wiggling her eyebrows at you over the newspaper.
“it worked!” she mouths. you hide your smile behind your hand as you nod quickly before looking down at your phone to text jaehyun.
to: dumber
the fish has landed in the hole. or however that goes
when you finally look back up, sungho is making his way over to you, his bottom lip cutely caught between his teeth.
“oh, hi sungho!” you greet when he stops at your table, awkwardly holding the tray in front of his chest. 
“hi, y/n. uh, here you go.” sungho gives you a shaky smile and you resist the urge to coo. he’s so cute, in the way his hands shake slightly as he lowers the mug and a slice of strawberry cake onto the table.
“oh, i didn’t order the cake!” you say, meeting his eyes. sungho nervously laughs as he tucks the now empty tray under his arm.
“it’s… um, it’s on the house,” he messily motions towards your table before gluing his arms back to his sides. “everything is.”
“really? you’re so sweet, sungho. thank you.” you think you are going to float out of your seat. he quickly looks away from your gaze after your compliment, redirecting his eyes to his shoes. his ears are slightly blushed on the tips, his circular glasses slipping down his nose slightly.
“don’t mention it,” he mumbles, his cheeks dusted an apple red that match his ears.  “also, your um… your outfit is really nice.”
yup. you’re definitely floating.
“thank you so much! you look nice, too. i mean, you look nice in everything,” you giggle, watching the way sungho’s wide eyes shoot up to yours. he looks like a surprised kitten with the way his black curls fall into his face at the sudden movement. you get the sudden urge to gently brush them away, but you remind yourself of proper etiquette and keep your hands to yourself.
“that’s… that’s not true, but thank you,” he speaks quietly. you open your mouth to rebuttal, but sungho simply gives you a quick nod and scurries off back to the counter. you can’t even be disappointed this time—that little interaction was enough to feed your delusions for the next month and a half.
as soon as sungho makes it back behind the counter, you see him drop his head into his hands in embarrassment, shaking his head. leehan comes up behind him to give him a pat on the back, trying to hold in his laughter. the luscious haired guy gives you a thumbs up over sungho’s shoulder and you shoot him one back with a wide smile. mission accomplished, you guess as you take a bite of the fluffy cake. 
so sweet.
。‧˚🍞⭒₊˚🍎˚ · .
5:14 p.m | weather: ANGELS SINGING FROM ABOVE
dear diary,
park sungho wrote his number on the napkin. i have park sungho's number. he gave me his number. we're sooooo back.
PHASE TWO: GET HIM ALONE (and not in the creepy way!!!)
if there was one thing about your best friends, it would be how hard they party. it’s not like you were a prude or anything—definitely not that—but these two took parties to a different level. you aren’t sure how long you’ve been dancing in between jaehyun and yujin, squeezed between other sweaty bodies as the music thrums through your veins. jaehyun’s hands are on your hips and yujin’s arms are wrapped around your shoulders as you laugh with your head thrown back, letting loose. there is no room to be shy when it comes to partying with them.
your friend riwoo went all out for this end of the semester party, it seems. he rented out a beach house that sits right along the shore and you’re pretty sure he invited more than half of your entire university. you already greeted the host with hugs and small talk before you went straight for the drinks. as the song playing through the speakers comes to an end, the dj announces that fireworks are going off at the beach at 2 a.m, so people start stumbling and filing out of the house to see the pretty lights and colors.
“you wanna get another drink?” yujin shouts into your ear and you nod quickly. you definitely aren’t drunk enough—especially for what you guys have planned tonight. phase two.
“i’m gonna go find sungho,” jaehyun manages to say in his already drunken state before disappearing into the crowd, greeting at least 3 people as he makes his way through. you grab yujin’s hand to tug her toward the nearly vacant kitchen. most of the drinks are outside at the beach, but this is all a part of the plan. you rummage around in the fridge hoping to find anything to calm your nerves.
“calm down, y/n. you look like you’re going to explode,” yujin laughs from behind you, leaning against the marble island.
“because i am. i’ve never been alone with him before. what if i say something stupid?” you whine, still searching for anything that isn’t soda or juice.
“...like you always do?” yujin quips back quickly. you pause to give her a tiny glare over your shoulder before you deflate, turning back to the fridge.
“...fair. but still! i really don’t want to mess this up,” you sigh. as if the fridge itself has begun to pity you, you end up finding something tucked away near the back, though you’re freaking out too much to even read the label. with a shrug, you uncap it and drink straight from the bottle.
“you got this. remember, he already likes you. i don’t think he can be saved at this point.”
“you’re right,” you say, looking down at your heels, but once her words fully process in your tipsy mind, your head snaps right back up “wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“it means that all you have to be is yourself. we’re all rooting for you!” yujin rushes over to plant a kiss on your cheek before patting your head. “now, i have an appointment upstairs, so i’ll see you later! keep me updated!”
“wait, yujin!” you call, but she’s already slipped right through your fingers. you huff as she disappears around the corner, her menacing giggles fading into the music like an evil villain. whatever. you have more important things to worry about right now—such as sungho entering the kitchen not even a beat later looking otherworldly.
your fingers nearly slip on the neck of the bottle as your eyes lock onto each other’s. sungho looks good. and by good, you mean you-want-to-jump-his-bones-right-here-right-now good. 
his usually messy hair is pushed back and out of his face, a few strands falling onto his forehead. he’s ditched his glasses and his eyes look even more sharp and enticing like this—as if he’s staring straight into your soul. he’s wearing a cropped black tee with jeans, adorning multiple silver necklaces that shine against his skin. his soft lips are glossy from the drink in his hands, his cheek slightly flushed from the alcohol.
you’ve never seen him look like this before. the cute park sungho you’re so used to is somewhere dead in a ditch right now. god.
you can’t even speak as he shoots you a smile, his eyes softening with familiarity.
“hey,” he says, his gaze flickering to the bottle in your hands. “you alright there?”
you look down at your hands, quickly moving to place the bottle on the counter behind you with a guilty smile.
“yeah—yeah, no, i’m great. perfect, actually.” you find yourself stumbling over your own words. if you thought you weren’t drunk enough to handle this before, now you think you are too drunk to even process the sight in front of you.
“why’re you in here alone? everyone’s heading down to the beach,” sungho says as he rounds the island. 
he has to be drunk, if not for the way he so boldly rakes his eyes over your body without shame. you swallow, blinking up at him. you can see him very obviously checking you out, his eyes running up the expanse of your exposed legs to the hem of your mini dress. he’s not too close, but you can still smell his vanilla-and-something-secret cologne with the proximity. you feel yourself grow weak in the knees, reaching back to hold onto the counter behind you. 
“i could be asking you the same thing,” you shoot back, trying to regain your confidence as you catch his eyes. sungho lets out of a puff of laughter, dropping his gaze for a second before looking back up at you. you feel your heart catch in your throat at the way his eyelashes flutter so beautiful, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip absentmindedly.
“i guess i was looking for you,” he speaks quietly, so sincerely that you aren’t sure if he knows the effect he has on you right now. 
“well, i’m here now,” you mumble back. 
“yeah. you are.”
the silence in between you guys is incredibly heavy, dripping with unsaid words and you can’t seem to find any of them. they all feel stuck in your throat as sungho’s eyes flicker in between yours. for once, he’s not the first one to break eye contact—and you even watch as he takes a few steps closer to you until he’s standing directly in front of you. 
“y/n…” he whispers, leaning down so only you can hear him. his hair tickles your face and you find yourself frozen, unable to move. “can i… can i kiss you?”
okay, he’s definitely drunk. but so are you, so you have nothing to lose.
“yes. please,” you whisper back and he’s on you before you can even blink.
sungho’s lips are as plush and sweet as you imagined them to be. he tastes of the fruity alcohol that sits in his now abandoned cup,your stomach flipping as he gently works his lips against yours. one of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, and you notice his fingers slightly shaking against your skin. even when he’s like this, he’s still so cute, it drives you crazy.
you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you until your bodies are pressed flush against each other. you tangle your fingers into his hair and at your actions, he softly sighs, falling into you even more. you swallow all of his noises as you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip for permission; pliantly, he parts his lips for you, a quiet moan leaving his lips when you slightly tug on his hair.
you feel his strong arm circle around your waist, his fingers splayed out against the fabric of your thin dress. you’re wrapped up in his scent, an all encompassing mantra of sungho, sungho, sungho filling your brain. he handles you gently, but so desperately as he licks into your mouth, his teeth grazing over your lips.
you can’t help the noises leaving your mouth as he subconsciously slips a leg in between yours, holding you impossibly closer to him. you can feel his rapid heart beat through his shirt, and you’re sure your own heart is pounding just as fast. he’s addicting in all sense of the word, your mind growing foggy as you grind up into him. he guides you with his arm, his other hand rubbing soothing circles onto your cheek. it’s everything and more, and when he finally parts for air, you find yourself chasing after his lips desperately. 
“is this—is this okay?” sungho stutters through a whisper, referring to the position the two of you are in. 
you nod quickly, biting your lip as you look up into his eyes. his pupils are fully blown out, his lips bitten red, covered in a thin layer of your saliva. his chest rises and falls quickly as he looks down at you and something akin to pride fills your chest at the sight. you made him like this. he’s so perfect. 
“fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out before capturing your lips again. he’s a little more feverish this time, moaning against your lips as you grind against his leg. he seems to be getting off on you getting off, and the thought alone is driving you crazy. 
you don’t even think about how you both are still in plain sight, right up against the kitchen counter where anyone could walk in at any time. and the little bubble that the two of you have built comes crashing down as a familiar voice breaks through your muddled haze.
“i’m gonna puke. need water,” jaehyun shouts as he runs into the kitchen before getting dizzy, moving to sit criss cross on the floor with his head in his hands.
“oh my god,” you groan as sungho hesitantly pulls himself away from you. “i’m so sorry, sungho.”
he’s clearly disheveled, his shirt slightly riding up exposing the smooth expanse of his lower stomach. his hair is a mess from your fingers, his lips are bruised, and it’s almost impossible to not notice the obvious bulge in his pants. despite it all, he’s still an angel, offering you a gentle smile.
“i’ll get him water, don’t worry,” sungho says, his face flushed red as he goes to grab a cup. you turn your gaze to the shitfaced jaehyun on the floor—you hold back any and all urges to cuss him out because 1. he’s incredibly drunk so the words won’t hurt him enough and 2. sungho is right there. 
you walk over to crouch down in front of jaehyun, placing a hand on his shoulder. “keep it in, myungjae, or i swear…”
jaehyun mumbles some incomprehensible gibberish and you sigh quietly. as much of a cockblock as he is right now, your friends’ wellbeing always comes first.
“here,” sungho says from above you. you look up to see him holding out a cup of water to you with a tiny, awkward smile on his lips. 
you already want to kiss him again.
“thank you,” you reply softly, returning the smile. “myung, you awake?” you shake jaehyun’s shoulder a few times before he finally slurs out more gibberish. “i’m gonna need words, hun.”
“i think… i think i’m drunk…” he mumbles before groaning again, slumping forward against you. 
“yeah, no shit,” you deadpan. you place the water down next to you so you can lift his head up with both hands. jaehyun’s cheeks squish together like a chipmunk as he sleepy blinks at you. “wake up. where’s yujin?”
“she left with someone… i didn’t see…” he trails off before slumping forward again. “i’m gonna puke.”
“no, you’re not. drink this.” you try your best to help him drink the water, even though most of it spills onto his shirt. whatever. “i’m taking you home.”
jaehyun doesn’t respond other than a hiccup and another incomprehensible mumble.
“do you need some help?”
oh, right. sungho is still right here. you feel half-embarrassed and half-disappointed at the prospect of leaving him high and dry right here, but jaehyun needs your help right now. you wave sungho off with a small laugh and a shake of your head.
“i got him. we’ll call a driver.”
“are you sure? i can go with you guys.”
“it’s okay! enjoy the party.” you insist, trying to get jaehyun to drink more water. sungho nibbles on his lip in thought, watching the scene in from of him.
“i’ll wait outside with you guys at least.”
“you really don’t have to…” but sungho cuts you off with an insistent look and you find yourself giving in all too quickly. “okay. can you help me get him up?”
with much struggle and some extra hands from angel sungho, you guys manage to get jaehyun on his feet. you throw his arm over your shoulders and wrap your own around his waist to hold him up straight. sungho helps you steady him from the other side and you mentally thank him a thousand times over again because you’re sure jaehyun would’ve already crushed you by now if he wasn’t here.
“carry me like a princess,” jaehyun mumbles, lolling his head to the side, his entire body complete jelly.
“i’m not carrying you like a princess, jaehyun,” you speak blankly as you make your way to the front of the beach house.
“sungho, carry me like a princess.” all sungho does it laugh lightly and take more of jaehyun’s weight from you. 
“come on, myungjae. left foot, right foot… there you go. you’re actually walking now, good job.”
。‧˚🍞⭒₊˚🍎˚ · .
sungho waits with the both of you on the steps, jaehyun half asleep on your shoulder. what a way to end your night. sungho is eerily quiet as he watches the party-goers in the distance, the fireworks painting the sky in an array of colors and light. it’s beautiful you think, and as you turn your head to gaze at sungho, the lights reflecting in his dark eyes, you think he’s even more beautiful.
“are you… are you sure you’ll be okay?” sungho suddenly asks, turning his head to face you.
“i’m sure. i don’t want to ruin your night,” you reply with a small smile, though sungho frowns at your words.
“you could never ruin my night,” he says so seriously, you think you might’ve misheard for a moment. sungho’s gaze is heavy on you and you’re at a loss for words again, your mouth clamping shut. you feel your stomach do flips at his words, so simple yet so perfect. everything he does makes you fall for him even more.
you don’t speak for a few minutes after that and you don’t need to. the silence is calming this time. of course, there are a million things you want to say to sungho, but now doesn’t feel like the right time. not when jaehyun is a zombie next to you, mumbling in his half-asleep daze. sungho seems to be keeping his words to himself as well, glancing over at you from time to time. 
finally, a black car pulls up in the driveway and you get a notification that your driver is here.
“i—i think that’s our car. thank you for your help, sungho,” you speak as you go to shake jaehyun awake.
“yeah, it’s no problem,” sungho sheepishly smiles, tucking his hands in his pockets. “um, y/n…?”
“hm?” you ask over your shoulder as you help your mumbling best friend to a stand. sungho watches the scene in front of him before shaking his head.
“...nevermind. get back safely, okay?” when you meet his eyes again, they’re sparkling with something unsaid. and somehow, you know exactly what he’s trying to say.
“will do,” you affirm with a small smile before shushing jaehyun as he begins to whine about needing to puke again. “goodnight, sungho!!”
“goodnight, y/n.”
your clingy, drunk best friend drops his head onto your shoulder again as soon as you manage to get into the car, cuddling up to your side like a koala. with a sigh, you gaze out of the window and back toward the house. none of this feels real yet, but you’re sure it’ll all hit you once you’re completely sober.
as you begin to drive off, you notice a figure with black hair softly banging his head against the front wall of the house before regaining his composure, making his way back down to the beach. 
。‧˚🍞⭒₊˚🍎˚ · .
12:47 p.m | weather: chilly
dear diary,
we kissed. we actually kissed. but he was drunk, so i don’t know what any of this means. did he mean to kiss me? does he regret it? he hasn’t texted me, or called me. should i text him first? i’ve never been this nervous over anything before. maybe because it all feels too real now. i like him a lot. i don’t want to ruin this.
also jaehyun puked in my dorm last night. great.
PHASE THREE: UH… NOT SURE YET (never let myung jaehyun plan anything)
you usually aren’t one to bed rot, but it’s been two days since riwoo’s party and you’re sure that you are absolutely done for.
you had finally gave in and texted sungho asking if he got home safe that night. he replied with the driest message you’ve ever seen, and left you on delivered after you asked him what his plans were for the week. 
and yes, you called for a best friend night so you could cry and tell you friends everything that happened. yujin had suggested that maybe he just needed some time to process things—it wouldn’t be out of character for him to avoid you in the first place, but you really thought you had made some semblance of progress that night.
jaehyun suggested that maybe he realized you are a bad kisser and never wants to see you again. you chose to flick him on the forehead and proceed to attempt suffocation with a pillow (which did not work. sadly.) 
now you’re laying in your bed hugging a plushie as you sadly scroll through your timeline at 4 p.m on a sunny sunday afternoon. yujin is out probably seeing the world why you are here hoping to disappear from it. you would’ve never thought that being ghosted could hurt you this bad—probably because you have never liked anyone as much as you like sungho. 
your heart physically hurts, but you try your best to not think too negatively. maybe yujin was right. maybe he just needed to sort things out by himself first. jaehyun, on the other hand, can go to hell.
you continue to scroll through funny cat videos until you suddenly get an incoming call from “p.s.h <3”.
the speed that you sit up at could beat lightning, your eyes comically widening as the caller i.d fills the screen. your fingers answer the call before you can even run through the possibilities of delusion and hallucination, pressing the phone to your ear.
“hello?” you speak, trying to sound as normal as possible. there’s a bit of shuffling on the other end of the line before sungho’s voice flows through.
“hey, y/n. are you free right now?” sungho asks, his voice half-unsure and half-hopeful. you bite your lip to suppress the smile creeping onto your face.
“right now…? i guess i have some time,” you exaggerate. what? he ghosted you for two days! you can’t seem too available!
sungho lets out a breath from the other end of the line, shuffling around again. “um, sorry if this is sudden, but can we meet up? i… i need to see you right now.”
you have to physically clutch your blanket in order to stop yourself from jumping with joy. park sungho wants to see you. park sungho wants to see you right now! it seems as if all of your wishes have been granted. fuck you, myung jaehyun!
“yeah, we can meet up. where?”
。‧˚🍞⭒₊˚🍎˚ · .
you notice sungho’s messy black hair as soon as you turn the corner to the flower garden situated in the middle of the large park across the street from your campus. he’s wearing a black long sleeve and jeans with a belt, his green satchel resting on the bench next to him. his glasses hang on the edge of the nose and he seems to be sketching something, his brows slightly furrowed as he focuses intently on his page.
those familiar fluttery feelings fill your chest when he looks up at the sound of your footsteps in the grass. his gaze softens when he meets your eyes, closing his sketchbook as you near him.
“hi,” you start with a shy smile. you suddenly feel self-conscious with his heavy gaze on you, looking down at your shoes. you realize that you’re both wearing converses again today. 
“hi,” sungho says before motioning to the empty spot on the bench next to him. “sit, sit.”
you nod once, cautiously taking a seat next to him. your heart pounds in your chest at the close proximity, which is ridiculous considering the fact that you two were much closer just a couple of days ago, but for some reason, everything feels a little different this time. 
late spring flowers bloom around you, pinks and yellows mixing with the green shrubbery. it’s sunny out, but a a cool breeze combats the bright sun rays. it’s a perfect day and sungho looks even more perfect. he’s back to his usual self it seems, unable to meet your eyes as he clears his throat. 
“so, um… i just want to start off by saying that i’m sorry.”
you make a small sound of confusion, tilting your head at him. “sorry about what? you didn’t do anything wrong…”
“no, i did. i haven’t spoken to you since the party and i just… i don’t know. i got stuck in my own head,” sungho explains softly as he peeks up at you. his leg is bouncing slightly with nervousness and you want to reach over and comfort him. “i thought that maybe you only kissed me because we were both drunk. or maybe you felt pressured to… i don’t know. it’s stupid.”
he shakes his head before looking down at his lap, wringing his hands nervously. this time, you actually do reach a hand out, your fingers resting atop his. his hands immediately still as he lifts his head to find your eyes. they’re completely vulnerable, all of his guards lowered around you.
“it’s not stupid. i didn’t feel pressured to do anything. i kissed you because that’s what i’ve wanted to do for a whole year now.”
sungho’s eyes widen at your words, his mouth dropping open a bit in shock. “a whole year?”
“sungho, i have liked you ever since that introductory art class in freshman year. i thought that you didn’t like me,” you finally confess. sungho frowns at your words, his fingers calmly moving to lace with yours. his hands are as soft as his gaze on you and you feel yourself settle at his touch, relaxing a bit as his thumb brushes against the back of your hand.
“i’m sorry that i made you feel that way. i just get really nervous when you’re around, as you can see,” he laughs, looking down at his bouncing leg. “i don’t know why it took me so long to say this, but i’m not going to wait any longer. my friend, taesan, kinda knocked some sense into me yesterday.”
you mentally thank kurt cobain, trying to conceal the sun-shaming smile threatening to appear on your face. sungho looks incredibly nervous as he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second—and when he opens them again, they drip with so much sincerity and affection, you feel all of the air leave your lungs.
“y/n, i like you. i like everything about you, and i’m sorry i’ve been such a coward this whole time. i guess i just never thought that someone like you, someone so beautiful, and talented, and sweet, would like someone like me,” he speaks, laughing a bit at himself at the end. you quickly shake your head, squeezing his hand.
“you’re also beautiful, talented, and sweet, though…” you mutter through a pout because—how could he ever think he was anything but all of the good things in the world! 
“i’m also an idiot for waiting this long,” he adds and okay, that you can agree with, but…
“i guess i am too, then,” you respond through a tiny smile. this moment is all you could’ve asked for. “sungho, can i kiss you?”
the words leave your slips before you can catch them, but sungho gives you no time to back track. with a small smile and a tiny nod, he reaches up to cup the side of your face and you get deja vu as soon as his skin touches yours. 
“please,” he whispers with pleading eyes.
you are so down bad, it’s insane.
this kiss feels like your first some reason; the your heart flutters as he delicately presses his lips to yours. now that you’re fully sober, you’re hyper aware of everything.his fingers tremble with nervousness and you smile into this kiss. there’s no reason to rush as you take him in, all of him, from his vanilla cologne, to his careful hands. 
his entire body melts as you rest a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through the pads of your fingertips. you can’t help but giggle a bit as you feel just how fast his heart is beating, somehow even faster than last time. sungho slowly pulls away, looking at you with pink dusted cheeks.
“why are you laughing?” he asks cutely, cocking his head like a curious kitten.
“you’re just so cute. i can’t help it,” you smile before quickly pecking his lips again. sungho’s cheeks brighten at your words, reaching up to cover his face with his hands.
“you can’t just say things like that!”
“oh? i can’t?” you ask teasingly. he drops his hands and shakes his head at you with a pout. “what about if i were your girlfriend? can i say it then?”
“only if i get to be your boyfriend,” sungho says back, a tiny smile climbing onto his lips. you pretend to think for a second, tapping your finger on your chin.
“hm… sounds like a fair deal to me.”
“then a deal it is.”
。‧˚🍞⭒₊˚🍎˚ · .
“guys. guys. it was so amazing. we confessed to each other, and then we took a walk together and held hands, and then we got lunch together before his class, and then we…” you ramble on about your day with sungho as you sit with your best friends on a blanket in the field, sighing dreamily as you reminiscence about his soft lips and cute smiles. he’s so perfect, in every single way. you can’t believe you can call yourself his girlfriend now.
“were the flowers pretty?” yujin asks from where she’s laying on her back, looking up at the multi-hued sky. jaehyun chuckles from his spot in between you guys, his arms folded behind his head as his eyes follow a passing bird.
“of course they were! and they even—wait. wait… how did you know i was at the flower garden?” you ask, looking in between the both of them with accusation. they give each other another one of those classic communicating-with-eyes looks before turning to you with knowing smiles. “oh my god. you guys planned this, didn’t you?”
“yup! i perfected it last night,” jaehyun smiles, throwing an arm over your shoulder. "phase three? let nature take its course. i managed to get some help from kurt ‘taesan’ cobain yesterday.”
“you are actually insane,” you speak dumbfoundedly. there’s nothing else you can say though because at the end of the day, sungho is now yours and you are his. albeit, the way you got here was a little iffy.
“myungstein, i’m telling you. the nation’s #1 matchmaker,” jaehyun speaks cockily, folding his hands behind his head as he turns to you with a cheeky smile. 
“nope. still not calling you that.” you roll your eyes at his antics, but you can’t stop the smile from slipping onto your lips as the three of you watch the sunset. you’re content, the soft breeze drifting across your cheeks, the scent of vanilla and blushed cheeks soothing your mind.
。‧˚🍞⭒₊˚🍎˚ · .
5:51 pm | weather: clear skies
dear diary,
park sungho is my boyfriend now :) <3 yay
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reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3 x
masterlist
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dyaz-stories · 8 months ago
Text
don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader
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synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.
“Was I off script?”
You look up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
word count: 5.4k
genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life
cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy
a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)
soundtrack
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Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.
Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.
Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.
But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.
With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.
Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.
Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.
“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”
That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.
There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.
“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”
And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.
“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.
The world freezes.
A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.
You’d never asked.
But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”
“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”
There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.
“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”
“Come on, don’t act like—”
“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”
“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.
“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.
Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.
When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.
“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.
“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”
“When have I ever bothered anyone—”
She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.
“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”
He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.
It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.
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You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.
“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” Shoko says.
“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.
“No,” Gojo whines.
“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.
“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.
Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.
But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.
So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.
That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.
Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.
Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.
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He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.
“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.
Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.
He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.
He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—
“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.
“Huh?” you say.
He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.
His gaze drops to your parted lips.
Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.
“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”
“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.
“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”
That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.
“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”
“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”
“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”
Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.
This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.
“Are we getting in or what?”
“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”
Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.
The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.
The time is good.
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“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”
It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.
“You okay?” you ask.
Ah, so she does speak.
“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”
“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”
His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.
“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.
You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.
“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”
“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.
You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.
“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”
“And I was off script?”
You glance back up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.
“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”
“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”
He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.
Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.
“It’s not too cold?” you ask.
“All good,” he repeats.
Shit. He’s invested again.
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“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”
“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”
“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.
“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.
“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”
Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.
Gojo doesn’t.
“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.
“You never know what—”
“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”
Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.
The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.
She’d been right but like, that was still rude.
The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.
Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.
There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.
“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”
“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”
“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"
“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.
“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.
“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”
Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.
“I’ll go get her.”
“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”
As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”
“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.
He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.
A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.
Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”
“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.
Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.
“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”
Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.
“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”
Gojo pauses.
“How do you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”
He’s sure he has, but—
“You were listening to that?”
You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.
“Of course I was. You were talking.”
“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”
You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.
“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”
Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.
“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”
When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.
“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.
“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.
For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.
“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.
Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.
“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”
“You don’t have to—”
A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.
“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”
Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.
“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”
When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.
“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”
You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.
“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.
You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.
“You haven’t been on script once today.”
“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”
“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.
Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.
You don’t think it’s going to last.
Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.
“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.
Ha. He nailed it.
“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.
“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?
“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”
Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.
“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.
You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.
It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.
“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.
Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.
“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”
But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.
He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.
With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.
One more thing to remember.
“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.
You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.
“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.
“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”
Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.
A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.
The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.
The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.
When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.
Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.
Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.
When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.
You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.
Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.
“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”
“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.
“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”
“There you guys are!”
You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.
“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.
“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.
“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.
He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.
“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”
She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.
“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.
Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.
Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.
“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”
Of course, he doesn’t.
Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.
That, or these will become famous last words.
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sequel
thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!
tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx
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gardenschedule · 1 month ago
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could you elaborate on your tags from that "writing about white walls" post?
I don't think this is a very unique take here but basically I believe that John was trying to achieve certain goals via Yoko's presence, and it was an intentional and purposeful disruption of the Lennon-Mccartney relationship. John, Yoko and Paul, as well as many fans and authors, treat this disruption as an inadvertent, inevitable side effect of the johnandyoko love story, that they were just so obsessed with each other Paul naturally got pushed to the side and it couldn't be helped, but I really think that was the whole damn point. I wouldn't go so far as to claim that was their point of J&Y's *relationship*, but I certainly think it was the reason John refused to physically separate from her while he was still active in the beatles.
I mean, the thing about John and Yoko is that their relationship was just kind of bizarre and confusing, right? You can, in fact, be in love and also be in separate rooms, you can have a job and a wife at the same time, you can have a creative partner and a romantic partner simultaneously. For some reason John couldn't, and the way he/Paul explain it is so weak and unsatisfactory. Like:
“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”
I mean, that shit is insane?? It makes no sense for a platonic partnership. For Mclennon shippers, it can be interpreted in a way that makes some sense. But the rest of the world can't make sense of it, so they latched onto blaming Yoko for decades. And while it's partially racism and misogyny, it's mostly because people intuitively know there's something really weird about the way things went down and the best explanation they can come up with is that she manipulated or bewitched John somehow. I don't think that's the case. John can be pretty gullible and he loves a guru, but he's not so delusional he wouldn't foresee the conflict and tension that being joined at the hip 24/7 and trying to bring her into the immediate beatles circle would cause. I don't believe he could be manipulated into thinking it would be tolerable or positive for the group. He would never have accepted another beatle doing the same thing, he acknowledged this himself:
JOHN: But I understand how they felt, because if it had been Paul or George and Ringo that had fallen in love with somebody and gotten totally involved, suddenly… It wasn’t like, you know, somebody – George coming in and saying, “I’m going to work with Eric Clapton in a band now, and screw you.” It wasn’t that kind of thing at all. It was just suddenly this involvement.
I think he knew perfectly well it would be received badly, but there were beneficial outcomes he hoped for. On that post I said it could be taken as both an aggressive or defensive move, I reckon it's probably a mix of both. It could be seen as a power grab. He's got himself an ally in the studio who will unconditionally support him, increased artistic credibility (notably in a type of art Paul was also into), the implicit threat that he doesn't need Paul or the group, the leverage that comes with needing the others less than they need him, and the ability to induce creative, professional and personal jealousy in Paul specifically. After all, that's exactly how Paul most effectively hurt John:
JOHN: [Paul] even recorded that all by himself in the other room, that’s how it was getting in those days. We came in and he’d – he’d made the whole record. Him drumming, him playing the piano, him singing. Just because – it was getting to be where he wanted to do it like that, but he couldn’t – couldn’t – maybe he couldn’t make the break from The Beatles, I don’t know what it was. But you know, I enjoyed the track. But we’re all, I’m sure – I can’t speak for George, but I was always hurt when he’d knock something off without… involving us, you know? But that’s just the way it was then.
On the other hand, John at the time was particularly vulnerable and sensitive. Yoko must have been a protective mechanism, a barrier between himself and the person most able to hurt his feelings and his confidence, she made him feel good about himself and his art. He may not have been able to cope with the pressure unless she was there to believe in him and create some distance between him and Paul, to give him some physical and emotional space from the intensity of their relationship and competitive rivalry. And if we put our tinfoil hats on, we can certainly speculate that showing off a shiny new partner is an effective way to deal with unreciprocated feelings or romantic/sexual rejection.
Truthfully, sometimes I feel like John wanted Paul to be badly hurt by this situation so much that he kind of convinced himself of it? I have a tonne of quotes about how Paul reacted to Yoko here, and one thing I notice is that John seems to exaggerate how much Paul hated her, and Yoko's a lot less accusing. That's not to say Paul wasn't jealous, but he clearly made efforts to hide it. We have evidence that Paul tried his best to be accepting and kind despite how negatively it affected him. He went out of his way to help and defend them on multiple occasions, and yet John still thinks that Paul was singing 'Get Back' to her directly or he can't stand them being in love or whatever. It seems almost like wishful thinking on his part, which makes perfect sense if you think his goal was to hurt Paul in the first place.
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edenesth · 9 months ago
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MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "
Dear Soulmate
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I'm sorry it took me so long, anon! I didn't know how to approach this and was waiting for a friend to do it first🙈
For my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast💖
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Choi San — soulmate au (idiots to lovers)
In a world where soulmates exist, most people discover their other halves before reaching twenty-five, you struggle to find yours, even when he had been right in front of you all along. You've witnessed those around you revelling in the bliss of finding their destined partners, all the while blindly awaiting your own.
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"I cannot believe this, I'm dying alone!" you cried.
"Pooks, he'll come when the timing's right, I just know it," Eve, your closest friend and platonic soulmate, reassured you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you poured out your frustration. Despite being on the cusp of turning 26, your soulmate remained elusive.
"How did you and Hwa find each other again?" you asked, desperate for answers.
Eve sighed, "Whenever one of us gets hurt, a flower tattoo appears on the other in the same spot of their body. You know how clumsy I am, he found me through those blossoms. But each soulmate pair has their own unique connection. Haven't you felt anything special?"
See, in this world with soulmates, each pair discovers their connection in their own way. There's no universal formula, and you despised that fact vehemently. It only added unnecessary complexity to the already challenging quest for love.
Your parents had found each other through their inner voices, where their internal voices are the other's instead of their own. Your sister had found her soulmate through a compass on her body that led her to where her other half is.
And then there was you. Nothing. Nada. Niente. Absolutely nothing at all.
And as your birthday drew near this year, panic set in. You'd soon be a year older than the age when most people found their soulmates. Maybe you didn't have one, maybe he died, maybe he got aborted as a foetus, maybe—
"Woah, woah, just take a deep breath, everything will be okay," your friend reassured, trying her best to help in any way possible, "Hey, didn't you say you've been having a lot of dreams lately? And it's always that same dream?"
You blew a raspberry in frustration, "Yeah, but I doubt my recent dreams have anything to do with my soulmate, assuming I even have one. They're always about that art museum I go to on weekends. I think it's just because I spend so much time there."
She pondered for a moment, "Wait a minute, didn't you mention that San guy you always see there? What if—"
"Oh, hell no," you exclaimed, shuddering at the possibility of that annoyingly gorgeous mountain of a man being your destined lover, "I'd rather be alone forever than end up with someone like him."
It all happened on a day when you sought solace at the museum after a taxing week at school. Exhausted from dealing with incompetent classmates and antagonistic professors, you longed for a moment of peace as you approached your cherished spot in the corner. But to your dismay, you discovered an ignorant man occupying not just one seat, but the entire bench with his belongings. And not just any bench, your bench, the one everyone knew better than to occupy.
So you did the first thing that came to mind, you might have uttered some unkind words out of irritation. Looking back, you acknowledge it was all very unnecessary, considering it was likely his first visit to the museum and he clearly didn't realise it was your spot. However, your pride prevented you from admitting fault.
Consequently, he responded with equal unpleasantness. Even the museum guards had to intervene before things escalated into a fight. Like dealing with children, they persuaded both of you to share the bench since there was clearly more than enough space for two.
You adamantly refused to yield your spot and relocate, asserting your presence since you were here first. Similarly, it seemed his foolish pride prevented him from budging as well; thus, you both found yourselves locked in a silent standoff, exchanging wary glances as you engaged in a weekly silent war.
"Ugh, was hoping I wouldn't have to see your face today," San sneered, earning a glare from you as you settled down beside him. You were running slightly late, having trouble getting up after yet another frustrating dream, one slightly more annoying than usual.
Deliberately nudging his bag aside with irritation, you narrowed your eyes, "You wish, loser. This spot is mine, and it's staying that way."
He smirked in response, "Someone's in a foul mood, but then again, when are you not? Hope it's not because of that dream where your precious bench gets snatched away for good."
"Shut the hell up—"
You stopped short, a sudden realisation hitting you like a ton of bricks. You hadn't shared that dream with anyone, not even Eve. No one should know about it except... No freaking way. He couldn't possibly be the one you've been waiting for all this time. It seemed too absurd to be true. Why, out of all people, would fate pair you with this insufferable, infuriating, irksome yet undeniably attractive, bastard?
"Surprise, genius. It's me, your soulmate."
"I knew," he confessed, his voice carrying frustration and resignation, "I knew from the moment I saw you that you were my other half. That's why I came here in the first place, why I was in this exact spot."
Your breath hitched as his words sank in. All this time, he had known, yet he had still chosen to engage in your petty conflicts.
"But when I met you," he continued, "I was excited, hopeful even. But your attitude, your stubbornness... it's unbearable. As much as I feel the pull towards you, I can't ignore how immensely annoyed I am by your behaviour."
His words landed like a punch to the gut.
"I know that if I had a choice in who my soulmate is," he admitted, his gaze intense, "it would never be you."
After a moment of processing his words, you gritted your teeth in anger, "Well, joke's on you, buddy. I don't want you either. Maybe it would be best for both of us if you stop showing up here from now on."
Days turned into weeks, and true to your request, San ceased his visits to the museum. At first, you felt a strange sense of relief, but soon, that relief morphed into a tumult of conflicting emotions.
You didn't know how to feel. Did you truly mean what you said, or were those words simply born out of anger? Your emotions were a tangled mess. On one hand, you had just turned away your soulmate after yearning for his presence for so long. On the other hand, you couldn't shake the resentment that it had to be him, of all people. Part of you longed to be near him, to reconcile and embrace your destiny. But another part recoiled at the thought, recoiled at the frustration his presence brought.
Unbeknownst to you, San wasn't doing much better. His heart felt hollow, the absence of your presence leaving a gaping void. He tried to carry on with his life as before, but the weight of your rejection hung heavy on his shoulders. But his pride also kept him from reaching out to you.
He suppressed the pull towards you, buried it beneath layers of denial and indifference. But no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, your essence lingered in his dreams, haunting him with visions of what could have been.
Then, one day, fate intervened in a way neither of you could have predicted. You fell ill with food poisoning and ended up in the hospital. In a panic, San saw it in his dream, a vision of you lying pale and weak in a hospital bed. Without hesitation, he raced to your side, his heart pounding with fear. As he stood in the hospital room, watching over you, he realised the depth of his feelings. Despite everything, he couldn't deny the truth any longer. You were his soulmate, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you.
You furrowed your brows at his unexpected appearance, "What the hell are you doing here? Who invited you?"
His heart sank at your coldness, but before he could form a response, Eve intervened, giving you a playful smack on the shoulder, "Stop it, you! He came all this way, and you're still going to be mean to him?" Turning to San with a warm smile, she continued, "You must be San! I'm Eve, her best friend. It's nice to finally meet you. Oh, and please don't take her words to heart. She likes to pretend as if she hadn't been dying to see you again."
Blushing furiously at her blunt revelation, you shot her a glare, but she simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "Behave yourself. I'll be back shortly after settling the bill with Hwa," she said, brushing past San. As she passed him, she gave a polite nod, "Please take care of her for me, won't you?"
"Of course, Eve," he replied, nodding in return.
As soon as your friend left the room, he took a step closer, his tone serious, "Listen, I'm tired of playing games. I came here because I realised I can't bear to lose you again. So, tell me if you feel the same right now. If you still want me gone, I'll leave and never show my face around you ever again."
His words struck a chord, and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He couldn't resist the pull any longer, sitting down beside you on the bed and wrapping his arms around you. Relief flooded through him as he felt you relax in his embrace.
"I don't want to lose you again either. I'm sorry I was an idiot," you whispered.
"You should be," he teased, planting a kiss on your hair, "But I'm sorry too. Perhaps I should have told you who I was from the start. Let's just... not say things we don't mean and hurt each other again, okay?"
You nodded, squeezing him tightly, "Okay, Sannie."
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