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#exorcising this out of my brain
autistic-ace · 10 months
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when you stuck in a room/loop [comedy vs horror]
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glassofpumpkinjuice · 7 months
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(austin 3/8/24)
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bigshotautos · 2 years
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💤
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kaizokuniichan · 1 year
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Grey Sweatpants
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Pairing: Roronoa Zoro/Afab reader (no pronouns mentioned. I don’t think)
Summary: Grey sweatpants are literally never mentioned here but it was the first thing I could think of because you know it’s something that Zoro would always wear. Anyways, you and Zoro fuck on the couch. That’s it.
Barely edited, just been desperately needing Zoro so here.
As always, MDNI; 18+ readers please
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You’d been aching for Zoro all day, and you didn’t know what to do. He loved having his space and you didn’t want to smother him, but you were throbbing and you needed to be under his skin.
He sat on the couch, the glow of the tv illuminating him in a blue-tinted hue. As you walked up behind him you bent down, snaking your arms around his shoulders and pulling him back to your chest. His hand reached up to squeeze your arm and you placed your lips to the space below his ear.
“What is it,” he grumbled, running his thumb along the underside of your arm.
“Nothing,” your voice muffled into his pulse.
“Come here,” he sighed, signaling for you to join him with a tug on your arm.
As you walked around the couch he shifted onto his back, inviting you to lay on top of him. You settled onto his lap, pressing your chest atop his and slipping your hands beneath the pillow behind his head. His hands came down to rest on your hips, dragging his fingers up and down your sides.
“If you were this much in heat you should’ve just come to me sooner,” he teased, slipping his hands beneath the waistband of your leggings to grip your ass beneath your panties. A light moan ignited in your chest from the feel of his warm hands groping you, and you felt him twitch against your core.
“I was trying to give you your space,” you shuddered, the grinding of your hips involuntary.
“Yeah well, you’re also not really being discreet when you’re undressing me with your eyes.”
“Can’t help it,” you whined, dragging out the end of the word, “you’re barely dressed as it is and I need you. Only you can fix it.”
“Yeah?” He smirked as he squeezed your ass tighter.
“Yeah,” came another childish whine, followed by a pout.
He dug his fingers deeper into your plushness, throbbing in his sweats as you wiggled against him. Without warning he wrapped his arms around your middle and flipped you over, swapping places to hover over you. He reached down into his pants to pull himself free—half-hard and leaking pearly liquid.
“If you wanted it that badly all you had to do was ask.”
“I hate letting you think you have all of this power over me,” you muttered, swatting his hands away to replace them with your own. As composed as he tried to appear his hips bucked of their own accord into your tightened fist.
“You make it too easy when you beg like this.”
“I haven’t begged for anything,” you scoffed, but your hands were already pumping him faster.
“You’re always begging for it,” he smirked against your lips, grunting as your thumb swirled pre-cum around the head.
“Well fine if you’re not gonna give it to me-“
“I’m gonna give it to, just be patient.”
He took your hand off his dick and sat up to tug your tights down to your knees. Neither of you were in the mood to get fully naked—you forgoing the need to even remove your shirt. Luckily his was already off.
He swiped his finger along your folds, already leaking down your legs and onto the couch. You whimpered as he slipped two fingers inside, and he rushed to bend down and slip his tongue into your mouth.
“You’re always so ready for me,” he groaned, biting your lip harshly.
“I’m always wanting you,” you gasped as he quickly shoved a third finger into your pussy. You tried to open your legs wider but your tights were still rolled down around your knees. “Zoro I need you so badly.”
“I know baby,” he sighed against your lips, lining himself up with your wetness. “You’ve been so good all day so I’m gonna give it to you.”
Without anymore words he shoved himself inside, holding himself in place to allow you to adjust. Every time you fucked Zoro it felt like the first time. He always filled you fuller than you’d ever been, reaching deep into the softness of your walls and feeling every ridge and vein as he throbbed inside you. He slid his hand down to grip your thigh, thrusting forward with a heavy groan.
“Fuck, keep me inside just like that,” he grunted as you clenched and squeezed him tighter. Whimpering into his mouth, your kisses turned messy as your tongues wound around each other. Your mind was a foggy haze of nothing but Zoro. His earrings swinging with each thrust, the weight of his solid chest covering yours, his gravely voice spilling curses in your ears. You felt your sanity slip, digging your nails into his back and bucking wildly up into him as he fucked you.
“God Zoro...fuck it’s so deep.”
“Take it, it’s yours,” he huffed, grasping the pillow behind your head to give himself leverage. The sounds of the couch cushions squeaking paired with the slaps of skin from your hips connecting—it was everything you needed and craved. Overcome with want you wound your arms around his neck and crushed him to your chest with so much force that his arms buckled. You threw your head back and cried as he sucked and bit at your neck, still slamming into you.
“You gonna cum for me?” He panted, thrusts growing sloppy as he tried to hold himself together when you gave a particularly needy moan.
“I wanna cum Zoro, I wanna cum so badly.”
He brought his hand between your bodies, circling a finger around your clit. Your pussy was a mess, leaking and swollen as his balls smacked against it. There would definitely be a wet patch dampening the couch when you both were done.
You burrowed you head into his neck and rode out the building pressure, letting whatever sounds escape you as your mouth hung open. His finger swirled faster and you felt yourself tighten, so close that it felt like time had stopped. You climbed and climbed and climbed. And when it finally snapped you came, the force of it punching you in the chest as your legs shook and your toes curled.
Zoro became weakened by your walls fluttering and convulsing around him and he spilled moments later, growling into your neck and thrusting shallowly as he tried to extend your release. Eventually you both came to and he pulled out, a trail of his cum and your juices painting the couch. Lifting himself back up, he grabbed his nearby shirt in a half-hearted attempt to wipe up the mess, and tossed it aside moments later to nip at your lip. You littered kisses along his jaw and cheeks, licking at the sweat on his skin. He finally lifted his head to give you another kiss, smiling as you hummed in satisfaction.
“Was that good for you?”
“So good. Thank you baby.”
Placing a kiss on your forehead he scooted back down to lay his head on your chest, and your fingers idly petted his hair. Un-pausing the tv, you continued on with your movie, the heavy blanket of sex and lust slowly lifting away.
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sunflowercider · 6 months
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there are three very dumb things about writing llojavi fic that drive me nuts
1) i just know in my heart of hearts that lloyd would not start anything with javier without revealing who he was, at least not on purpose. Lloyd struggles to pretend he's actually the count and countess's son, which he had no say in happening in the first place, you can't tell me he would purposefully get into a romantic relationship without being guilty as hell not telling the whole truth.
So okay, alright, what would make lloyd purposefully reveal his secre- NOTHING. CANONICALLY NOTHING. BITCH TAKES THAT SHIT UNTIL A BATTLE WITH HELL ITSELF IN WHICH HE'S PRETTY SURE HE WONT SURVIVE ANYWAYS.
So it's either post-canon, or you better figure out how to accidentally trip them into a relationship OTL
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2) there is no way on gods green earth lloyd would even entertain the idea of starting a relationship in the second half of the novel THAT MAN IS BUSY SAVING HIS FAMILY ROMANCE CAN WAIT
So it's either the first half of the story, post-canon, or you gotta figure out what on earth it would take to have that man think about having a partner when he's racing against the clock to save the people he loves.
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3) Javier i am so mad at you. Why are you so powerful. Where's my dramatic tension. By halfway through the novel the man can instantly defeat a bone dragon and can heal worrisome wounds within minutes. How am i supposed to work with this. Fucker.
So you either gotta do the first half of the novel, really fucking AMP up the power levels of your antagonist (you gonna make something stronger than an angel??? huh???), or entirely rely on making a political drama where his power isnt helpful.
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probably a good thing that the novel is so tight that finding cracks to play around with in the second half is tough for me to do but like also. 。゚(゚´Д`゚)゚。
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arkarti · 2 years
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whenever Mark launches his OF he shud make a very clickbaity thumbnail 
Twitter: x
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hetalvetia · 3 days
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damn ghost kiku x arthur thoughts... get away from me... get away from me...........
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stolenslumber · 1 year
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hang your head low in the glow (pjs)
In this moment, you’re glad that you’re anchored in his lap, because otherwise you think you might float away into the night sky, on your way to join the stars in the cosmos. Jay is so crushingly sweet; sometimes, you just don’t know what to do with the weight of all his sincerity. For now, you settle for a fervent, “I like you so much.”
OR: A selection of moments in between the parentheses at the end of devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes (some things may not make sense without reading that first, but it's up to you!).
PAIRING: park jongseong x female reader GENRE: established relationship, fwp (fluff without plot), no like seriously this is just straight up fluff and romance and making out with scant narrative WARNINGS: swearing, kms/kys jokes, kissing and suggestive content/sexual themes WORD COUNT: 10k (derogatory)
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to all the boys i’ve fake-dated before (you, jay, sunghoon, yeonjun, chan, vernon, mark, and 5 others)
jay: peace out losers (except for my REAL gf whom i adore and cherish)
*jay has left the chat*
sunghoon: omfg no way???? jay bitchless era no more?
you: are u calling me a bitch
sunghoon: NOOOO i would never haha btw do u still talk to my sister
you: yeah
sunghoon: right so i’m just ur humble liege
chan: congrats, you two! well i guess jay can’t see this
you: i will accept your congratulations on his behalf :DD i’m really happy you guys 
mark: stop i’ll cry
vernon: no rly i’m next to him rn and he’s tearing up
mark: they deserve it so much!!! after everything i put them through 
you: excuse me it was mostly me
you: all jay did was orchestrate an elaborate scheme to get you and mina together (okay so he did a lot)
you: but we ALL participated
you: and i had to pretend to DATE you
mark: only for like two hours!!!!
yeonjun: wait this reminds me i’ve always wanted to know what ur ranking of us as fake bfs would be
you: in first place: park jongseong
yeonjun: and then?
yeonjun: hello??????
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“Can I ask you something?”
Jay turns his head to you. “Of course, baby.”
Baby. Hearing it still makes you all silly and giddy, though it’s been four days since you started dating him for real and hearing it all the time. Baby, doll, Cinderella, mine. He sure has a way with words. You clear your throat, hoping that your voice won’t crack when you say, “Why were you so weird about the fake-dating thing in the beginning?”
He makes a face at you. “What do you mean, weird? You’re telling me you thought I was weird about it, even after you had to endure Sunghoon?”
“Sunghoon was just awkward. Really awkward, but still. You stalked me to my front door—”
“Your front door is, like, 90 seconds from mine.”
“— and walked with me to Nat’s at a glacial pace, while not saying a word. And then we talked for an hour about random stuff before you promised to help Mark with Mina, even though you weren’t sure you wanted my help. Why were you so weird about it all?”
“Pretty girls make me nervous?” He offers you a winning smile.
“Flattery won’t get you everywhere, Park Jongseong.”
“Yeah, but it’s getting me somewhere, isn’t it?” He rolls all the way over to hover above you and then dips so low that the pendant on his necklace swings in front of your face. The two of you had escaped the party in the frat’s basement after it had gotten too hot down there; Jay said he “knew a spot”, which made you laugh when it turned out to just be his bedroom. But then he pushed open his window and coaxed you out onto the flat roof, and that’s where you had settled on your back, gazing up at a cloudless sky, scattershot through with faint stars. 
Well, you were gazing up at the stars— now, Jay occupies your line of sight, and he’s all smiles and hearts in his eyes. It’s not an unwelcome substitute.
Your hand slips between your bodies so you can rub your fingers over the pendant on his necklace; you laugh when you realize what it is. “J as in Jay? Like T as in Troy?” 
He huffs, rolling off of you to sit back on his heels. “No, J as in Jopping. Yes, J as in Jay!”
You hold your hands up, still laughing as you sit up to face him. “Okay, okay, sorry! Didn’t realize my boyfriend was also a preppy high school girl.”
He rolls his eyes even as he pulls you into his lap. These days, he’s hopelessly afflicted with must-be-close-to-my-girlfriend syndrome. “I have layers, Cinderella. Like an onion.”
“... Are you paraphrasing Shrek?”
Jay flicks at the tip of your nose. “You know, it reveals just as much about you as it does about me that you caught the reference.” 
“You’re not helping yourself in the high school girl category,” you tease, but it’s all syrupy sweet fondness, punctuated by a playful tug at his reddening ear. 
He turns his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. “Do you want to hear my answer or not?”
You nod and straighten your spine with your hands folded neatly against your chest; the picture of propriety, if it weren’t for your legs straddling his waist as he leans back on his hands. “Yes, please.”
“I was… sussing you out, I guess. You know why I wanted to bring someone to my parents, but I couldn’t just bring anyone. I wanted to get to know you a little better, to see if you were someone I could actually see myself wanting to be with, because anything less would be a disservice to my parents. I didn’t want your help if I couldn’t confirm that you were the real thing. And then I saw how patient but also no-nonsense you were with Mark, and how quickly you were willing to help with a frankly crazy plan, and you just… felt right. You felt right to me; you felt like the real thing.” Jay blushes, ducking his head to avoid your gaze. Everything he said is true, of course, and he doesn’t regret telling you any of it, but saying it out loud like this makes his heart feel like it’s going to fall out of his chest.
In this moment, you’re glad that you’re anchored in his lap, because otherwise you think you might float away into the night sky, on your way to join the stars in the cosmos. Jay is so crushingly sweet; sometimes, you just don’t know what to do with the weight of all his sincerity. For now, you settle for a fervent, “I like you so much.”
Jay’s confidence comes back like a boomerang. He leans up and catches your hands in his, draping your arms around his neck before gliding his hands up and down your back. “Who’s flattering who, now?” 
You shrug. “Where’s it gonna get me, gorgeous?”
“Well, only because you called me gorgeous.” And then he’s kissing you, lush and lovely. 
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Fall trickles into winter, and there are final exams and goodbyes to your friends before you and Jake leave on a two-week trip to see your family in Australia. You and Jay FaceTime almost every day; he complains about getting pasty staying indoors in the cold while you’re out tanning on white sand beaches. 
“Should I fly out there?” he muses one day close to the end of your trip. “You could be, I dunno, in danger! Because of the sun. No one to help you put sunscreen on your back… or check that you’ve applied enough on your legs… or your chest… It’s really important, you know. Skin cancer awareness.”
You laugh. “Thanks for the PSA, baby. I’m coming back in a few days, though, so I think I’ll be okay.”
Jay sighs mournfully. “I’m not. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” you confess. Living across the street from each other at school and seeing him in person almost every day for the past few months has spoiled you. 
“I miss you, too,” Jake mimics beside you. You’re in an Uber on the way to dinner with your parents, so you can’t commit much physical violence against him, but you do punch his shoulder.
Jay pipes up with, “Was that Jake’s voice I heard?”
You glare at your twin before popping out your earbuds to put the call on speakerphone. “Unfortunately.”
“Yo, what’s up, my man!” Jake cheers, shoving his face into view of the camera.
Jay and Jake chatter about some game they started playing with Heeseung, and you have to admit that you’re really happy about how well you and Jay have integrated into each other’s lives and communities. Of course, Jake had never been a big concern; secretly, you think he loves that his best friend is dating his sister. You’re two of his favorite people in the world, though he’ll only admit it when he’s four shots in. 
Soon, you approach the restaurant, and you have to say goodbye to Jay. He encourages you to keep sending videos of Jake falling into the ocean while surfing, which prompts a loud bout of complaining from Jake.
“You better not have shown that to anyone else,” Jake grumbles.
“Yunjin loved it,” you remark casually, just so you can laugh loudly when he jolts in his seat and turns to you with panicked eyes.
He whisper-shouts, “Why would you say that word? And why the fuck would you send it to her?” 
“What word— love? Oh my god, grow up. And she asked for updates on you.” Your eyebrows furrow. “I think she missed you, or something.”
“She did?” Jake beams; he’s entirely a different man now. “What else did she say about me?”
You point at him accusingly. “You have a lot of questions for someone who claims that they’re just buddies with my girl Jen. Which, again— grow up. Anyways, Jay, we have to go, but we’ll see you soon! Love you!”
“Love you, baby. And you, too, Jake,” Jay adds, before Jake can whine. 
A few days later, you’re finally reunited with Jay at the big New Year’s Eve party his family throws every year. The Parks always get to host the last party of the holiday season; you’re excited to experience it with Jay for the first time. 
An hour before the party is set to start, you let yourself into the Park estate and make your way surreptitiously to Jay’s room. His back is turned to you when you open the door slowly, and you stop for a moment to just drink in the sight of him, comfy and cozy in a cable-knit quarter zip sweater— the definition of huggable. Quickly, you sneak in and wrap your arms around his waist. “Hey, handsome.”
Jay cranes his neck around to look at you. “Hey! You’re here early.” 
You let go of him so he can turn around and hug you back properly. “Couldn’t wait to see you,” you confess. 
“Thank god.” He drops his head into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. “Mm, the world is finally rightside up again.”
You laugh softly. “We are so dramatic.”
“Unavoidable for hot people,” Jay reasons. He pulls back up to wink at you; it’s so cheesy that you have to hold your hands up to his face to avoid looking at him. He laughs outright, and the return of that sound so close to your ears— as opposed to through the phone across an ocean— makes you smile uncontrollably wide.
“I really missed you,” you murmur. Finally, finally, he leans in and kisses you. It starts as something innocent and comforting, then quickly gets subsumed into fire and passion. You fist your hands into the collar of his sweater, hauling him closer to you with an enthusiasm that makes his fingers dig into your waist.
“Missed you so much. Missed this so much,” he says, right before sliding his tongue against yours. Soon, he transitions to sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, breathing a litany of love you, love you, love yous into you. The kiss is so deep it makes you go lightheaded, and when you separate for air, the sound of your mouth parting from his elicits a faint pop that makes you shudder. He’s considerate enough to back off briefly for you to catch your breath, though he doesn’t make it easy. “Pretty, so pretty,” he whispers against your cheek.
You have to close your eyes to calm yourself down. Right now, you think you could power a whole city with the desire that vibrates underneath your skin. “As much as I want to keep going,” you begin, already doomed with how hoarse your voice is, “I think you have to start getting ready.” The way your fingers pull at the zipper of his sweater is wholly unconvincing. 
He sighs and straightens up to rest his chin on the top of your head. “I should really learn how to reconfigure the time-space continuum. Time needs to stop when I’ve got my girl with me.”
You hum in agreement, curving around him slightly to scrape your teeth over the birthmark on his neck and grinning when he hisses into your ear. “You’re a smart guy; I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you offer, continuing to tug at his zipper until you’re met with the end of the quarter zip. A frustrated sound escapes your throat at the obstacle.
“What’s your new year’s resolution?” Jay asks suddenly.
“What?” You blink hazy eyes at him; he has to pinch his own wrist behind your back to fight the urge to kiss you again.
“Just trying to kill the mood so I don’t go out there with a hard-on,” he explains, half bashful and half serious. “I have to make a speech, you know.”
“Thanks for coming, everyone! Hope you had a great last year, and here’s to an even better new year. There, speech done.” You withdraw your hands from his sweater to make jazz hands at him. “Wow, I’m such a speedy speechwriter! With all this extra time, we should keep going.”
“Brilliant,” he says dryly. “But you were right before; I do have to get ready.”
You frown and rest your cheek against his chest. “Past me was such a cockblock.”
Jay chuckles. “So, tell me, what is your new year’s resolution?”
Your eyes drift to the offending sweater in your peripheral vision. “Throw out all of your sweaters.”
“Very noble of you.”
“And get into grad school,” you say, more serious now.
“They’d be crazy not to take you for the Rhodes, baby.” Jay presses a final kiss to the top of your head. “I, um. I already asked to start in the London office of the company.”
You whip your head up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. “Really?”
“Really. I want to be wherever you are.” He smiles so tenderly at you that your heart breaks and then mends itself back together in an instant; shattered and restored all at once by the strength of his devotion.
Sadly, there’s only so much time you can spend swooning at your boyfriend (Jay’s right; you do have to learn how to reconfigure the time-space continuum). He truly does have to give a speech soon, so he starts getting changed, pulling his sweater over his head and swearing when it gets stuck on the wire frame of his glasses. 
You laugh a little breathlessly at him, distracted by the strip of toned stomach revealed by his current position with his arms stuck above his head in his sweater. “My last new year’s resolution is to close the gyms,” you announce, finally moving into action to help him unspool the yarn of his sweater from his glasses.
“All of them?” His voice comes out muffled from inside his sweater before it’s over his head at last, and he’s shirtless in front of you. 
You drag your fingertips from the top of his waistband to the warm skin of his sternum. “Especially the ones you go to. You’re too tempting like this.”
He shivers at your touch but still manages to smirk when he says, “Just for you, doll.”
You groan. “Seriously, don’t call me that if you want to make it out there in time for your speech.”
“We should get rid of speeches, too,” he declares. He eyes the top of your fingers against his chest forlornly. “But I guess I’ll have to give the last one. Now, for real, tell me something extremely unsexy.”
You quip, “To help you get flaccid?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Excellent work; we’re headed in the right direction.” 
Your phone vibrates with a barrage of texts at that moment, which you check as Jay disappears into his walk-in closet to get dressed. It looks like your friends have arrived, and they’ve brought your outfit with them (you had come straight from the airport, dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt from high school). You tell Jay just as much, raising your voice slightly to be heard in the other room. “I’m gonna go get my stuff and change!”
He sticks his thumb out the door of the walk-in closet, pointing it upwards in assent. He assumes you saw it when he hears the door close, and then his phone goes off as well, inundated with a flood of texts from his newly arrived friends. 
hsm 3’s most underrated song: the boys are back (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon, jungwon, and sunoo)
jake: alright i have to k*ll myself
sunoo: why r u censoring all of a sudden
jake: i don’t want my fbi agent to take that seriously. although i do wanna kms
jungwon: why what happened
sunghoon: oh it’s HILARIOUS
jake: stfu
jake: so there’s eggnog being passed around right? and i see yunjin so i go to hand her a cup to be nice
heeseung: ~to be nice~
jake: kys
jake: anyways then i realize that the cup was really hot so i go and blow on her drink, like a fucking weirdo, and then i blow on SUNGHOON’S drink to make it seem less weird, except he’s drinking a HIGH NOON like an absolute idiot
sunghoon: hey i got the bartender to put it into a nice glass at least
sunoo: that’s my big (derogatory)
jay: perpetual bachelors jake and sunghoon! who’s surprised
sunghoon: NOT true i’m pretty sure the student government’s social media chair was flirting with me in the library before finals
jungwon: ??? wonyoung is a lesbian
jungwon: and she was just asking u to get out of the way bc u were spacing out in front of the printer
heeseung: L + me personally i’d kms
sunghoon: oh i know YOU are not talking
sunghoon: lee “the only time i feel the touch of a woman is when i go to yoga class at the university gym once a week” heeseung
heeseung: THE WOMAN WHO TEACHES IT IS HOT OKAY
sunghoon: oh heeseung mommy kink era?
heeseung: SHE IS MY AGE
sunoo: shouldn’t u be more concerned about breaking ur back every time ur there, grandpa?
heeseung: uncalled for wtf
heeseung: also tbh i wish SHE would break my back
jake: okay i’ve recovered from my earlier embarrassment. upon seeing what heeseung is texting, i’m thinking what i did wasn’t that weird
sunoo: bffr
jungwon: jake why don’t u just ask her out? instead of being emotionally constipated
jake: ew why would i ask her out i don’t want to be in a relationship that’s for pussies (respectfully) (i love women)
jungwon: yeah that’s definitely super emotionally mature of u
sunghoon: it’s 2023 pussy is a gender-neutral term
jay: you rly just say whatever the hell you want don’t you
sunoo: oh hey i see felix flirting with yunjin
jake: WHAT
jake: suddenly i have to go
sunoo: u r literally so pathetic
jay: btw i’m coming down now but if any of you see my gf before i do can you tell her she can change in my room
jake: gross
jay: GROW UP + stay single + kys
heeseung: GET HIS ASS
Jay’s idiot friends aside (he loves them so much), he actually is looking forward to seeing a bunch of his classmates and their families at tonight’s holiday party. Senior year seems to have crept up on him unannounced, and now he’s feeling slightly (a lot) sentimental about the idea of not living down the hall or at most across the campus from all the people who have made the last few years so formative (and entertaining as hell). 
He’s still thinking about how much he’s going to miss that place and those people when he hears your voice floating down from the top of the staircase. It sounds like you’re arguing with Kazuha about how many jello shots is too many for the after-party of the next phase of new member initiation at your sorority, which makes him chuckle quietly to himself. With four humanities and fine arts majors between the two of you, neither of you sound like you have the correct math. 
He opens his mouth, ready to give his two cents, but then he freezes at the sight of you descending the stairs. Vaguely, he processes the fact that Kazuha seems to have stopped arguing and even stopped coming down the stairs herself, just so she can give you two this moment.
This moment, which is making his brain short-circuit, because you are incandescent in a slinky, silvery dress that reflects all the candles that he’s now glad his parents made him light around the place. Countless points of light impart an otherworldly glow upon you, and you’re smiling at him; Jay thinks he must have saved the country in a past life.
When you reach him at the bottom of the stairs and he still hasn’t said anything, you tilt your head quizzically. “Jay? Everything alright?”
“You look like you just stepped out of a fairytale,” he breathes out. He moves on autopilot, bending at the waist as he takes your hand and kisses the top of it before straightening up to simply look at you some more.
“And right into the arms of my Prince Charming,” you respond, only half-joking. Right now, the dreamy look in his eyes makes you want to believe in happily ever after, as if it’s something he could forge with his own two hands. You kind of think he could, with the force of all his ardor.
Multiple phone cameras going off breaks the two of you out of your spell; you turn towards your nosy friends, who hold up variations of thumbs-ups and finger hearts. 
“Sorry, you guys are just too cute,” Yunjin says, not sounding sorry at all.
“Your parents would never forgive me if I didn’t get that on camera,” Sunghoon insists.
“Speaking of, I gotta go find them to make sure everything’s set.” Jay kisses your cheek. “See you later, Cinderella.” His fingers hold onto yours until the last second; your arm and his stretch out absurdly, as if you were parting for years, not minutes. 
“So dramatic,” Kazuha teases, joining you at the bottom of the staircase. 
“Unavoidable for hot people,” you explain wryly. You turn your attention to your gathered friends next. “I’m so glad you’re all here!”
“In 50 years, you could be hosting this party,” Sakura quips. Secretly, you hope it’s a lot sooner than that. 
“New Year’s Eve on Mars?” Jake suggests. 
Heeseung groans. “I’m scared of heights; can we not?”
“How many times do I have to tell you, dude, that’s not how space works!”
Half an hour passes happily like that, chatting and joking with some of your favorite people in the massive foyer. You don’t know exactly where Jay went off to, but the answer to that becomes clear when the music goes low and Jay clears his throat into the microphone set up at the front of the foyer. 
“Thanks for coming, everyone! Hope you had a great last year, and here’s to an even better new year.” Jay pauses to chuckle. “My girlfriend and I were joking earlier about me just saying that and calling it a night, but unfortunately for all of you, I am much more verbose than that.” Another pause for a light round of laughter from the gathered crowd. 
Jay works the audience like a pro as you watch with unbridled pride. A few minutes later, he winds down to the end of his prepared remarks, which you only know because he has asked you to proofread the speech weeks ago. You’re expecting him to wrap up with a final Happy New Year!, so you’re surprised to hear him keep going. 
“A couple of last things. To my parents, and everyone at the company, thank you for putting your trust in me.” Jay bows deeply. “I won’t let you down next year.” He straightens and looks right at you. “This year has been nothing short of wonderful. I’ve been so lucky my whole life, but the last few months have been particularly special to me. I’ve gotten to know people who I want to continue knowing for the rest of my life, who make me feel like my heart is too big for me, because I couldn’t possibly fit all of the kindness and love they give to me in the confines of my chest. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I do know that my life would be bereft without it.” Jay has to tear his eyes from yours because he knows he’s liable to cry if he sees you do so. “Bereft without you,” he continues, sweeping his gaze across the foyer. “All of you, who I’m so glad to call my friends and family. So, please stay healthy and happy this year, and I hope the new year treats you as well as this year has treated me. Happy New Year, everyone!”
Champagne glasses clink around you and people applaud, but all of it sounds far away. The only thing you can focus on is Jay, who’s making his way slowly through the throng of well-wishers to get to you.
When he’s finally in front of you, you have your misty eyes under control. He drops his hands to your waist and smiles gently. “Hi, pretty lady.”
“Hello, my favorite hopeless romantic.” Your palm goes to the sharp curve of his jaw. “You just had to go and say such sweet things. What’s gonna happen to my cool and unbothered reputation?”
“Right, your reputation.” He leans into your touch. “I can think of other ways to ruin your reputation,” he remarks, low and rough.
You roll your eyes, although you can’t stop your other hand from curling into the lapel of his suit jacket. “Romantic and horny! Duality of man.” 
“I meant what I said, you know.” His eyes soften at you. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me this year. Maybe ever. I have a lot of great people in my life, but only one you.”
“I know. You always mean what you say, and I love that about you.” You lean in to press a quick kiss to his mouth. He chases after you, tipping your chin up with his hand to kiss you deeper. Sadly, it doesn’t last for too long; you’re both aware that your friends and their parents are nearby.
But later, Jay makes sure to kiss you from this year into the next one, and you hope that you never forget what it feels like— fireworks exploding above your head and in your veins, lighting you up from within. Radiant, in the glow of someone who loves and is loved.
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girlbossing soooooooo close to the sun (you, yunjin, chaewon, kazuha, and sakura)
yunjin: do u think it’d be weird if i got jake something for valentine’s day
you: yes extremely
sakura: don’t ask me i’m gay
yunjin: ???
yunjin: okay thx guys this was super helpful!
chaewon: i thought you weren’t dating?
yunjin: WE MIGHT AS WELL BE. i’m sick of waiting for him to actually ask me out
you: jokes aside, i think he’s really into you, like genuinely. but his head is so far up his ass he will never make the first move
sakura: boooooo emotionally repressed playboy how cliche
kazuha: omg u should try to do something romantic
yunjin: absolutely not i can’t be a SIMP
sakura: boooooo emotionally repressed maneater how cliche
yunjin: WHATEVER
yunjin: more importantly, what are we doing for galentine’s!!!!
kazuha: spa day i thought?
you: yes but i have to leave a little early :(( sorry ladies the community kitchen is doing a pre-valentine’s day dinner and jay and i are signed up to help
chaewon: i can’t even be mad at you that is SO CUTE
Jay gets sick in the week leading up to Valentine’s day, which puts a spanner in the works of his grand plans for your first Valentine’s together. You tell him that it’s not a big deal and he should just focus on resting and getting better, but that doesn’t stop him from moping about it. 
mother is mothering (you, niki, and jungwon)
you: can i just say that this gc name is not helping to put to rest the joke that jay and i are ur parents
you: also i Don’t think u guys know what this phrase means…
you: but anyways what’s up… children
niki: pleaseeeeee fix jay hyung
jungwon: fr we’re desperate
jungwon: he’s been playing sad john mayer songs for like three days straight I CANT LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE
niki: he called the coffee shop yesterday to see if we could set up a valentine’s day surprise for u
niki: we can’t, so i’m not ruining the surprise
niki: but he literally had such detailed plans for the surprise like WE R JUST PART-TIMERS
you: omg… my bf is so cute :(
jungwon: that is SO not the point actually that’s like the exact opposite of the point
you: dw i was gonna come over today after the community kitchen’s pre-valentine’s day dinner anyways
jungwon: THANK GOD
niki: YAY can u ask jay to help me with research material for my history paper btw
you: ask him urself?
niki: i’m scared he’s going to rope me into some other crazy plan to make it up to u for ruining ur valentine’s day plans
niki: which sounds like a HIM problem??? why is he getting ME, a CHILD, involved
you: oh so ur a child now but not when u want to sneak into frat parties
jungwon: omg SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PPL IN THE BACK
you: jungwon i know ur the one who helps him sneak in
jungwon: haha. love u mom :)
you: IM NOT UR MOM
you: btw i’m bringing back extra vegetables from the community kitchen and i expect u to eat them! jay mentioned u were stressed lately and not eating well
jungwon: okay ty… not-mom
It’s almost 10pm by the time you get to the frat house, bundled in your winter coat and weighed down with containers of food. You leave one in the fridge, labeled with a note that says “for jungwon— eat this or niki will forever be taller than you”. You take everything else with you to Jay’s room, pausing at the door when you realize you don’t even know if he’ll be awake or if he’s still sleeping off his illness.
The door swings open before you have the chance to knock, and you’re met with the sight of Jay in a bathrobe, shower caddy in hand. “I must be hallucinating,” he mutters. 
You hold back a laugh. “Nope, you’re still in the land of the lucid. I brought you some food, and I figured we could watch something while we eat. Go shower; I’ll set up.” 
Jay blinks rapidly. “Oh my god, you’re really here?” He drops the shower caddy to the floor carelessly, moving forward to hug you before he halts abruptly, inches away from you. “Wait, no, you shouldn’t be here. I don’t want you to get sick, too.”
“It’s been, like, five days. I don’t think you’re contagious anymore,” you argue, sidling past him to drop your stuff into his room.
“Really?” The hopefulness in his voice makes your heart melt.
“Really. I’ll ask Heeseung to ask his special friend to confirm, if that will make you feel better,” you offer.
Jay's eyebrows furrow. “We should probably stop calling her that, but yes, that would make me feel better. Ask while I shower, but seriously, I’m not touching you if she says no.” 
You salute him. “On it, captain.” Heeseung’s special friend is the girl who teaches one of the yoga classes at the university gym, and she’s also a nursing student. She has a name, but Heeseung refuses to tell any of you what it is. Truthfully, it wouldn’t be hard to look her up, but you think it’s kind of cute how nervous Heeseung is about whatever liminal space he’s in with her.
you: hey can u ask the love of ur life if it’s okay for me to be with jay rn?
heeseung: first of all DONT CALL HER THAT second of all why tf would she have an opinion on that
you: i wouldn’t have to call her that if u would tell us HER NAME
you: and jay came down w/ that nasty virus like five days ago remember
heeseung: oh my goddddd yeah he wouldn’t stop whining about how his valentine’s day plans were ruined
you: ur special friend is in nursing right? so can u ask her
heeseung: i’m starting to think i should tell u her name just so u stop coming up with new ways to refer to her
you: that’s what I'M saying
heeseung: but yeah sure anything to get jay to stop being so annoying
you: thank uuuuu i’ll leave u some cookies in the kitchen so give some to her okay?
heeseung: omfg u made COOKIES i am so glad jay is dating u
Ten minutes later, Heeseung texts to let you know that you’re probably in the clear. More specifically, he says that his friend says it’s ultimately best practice to stay away from Jay for another couple of days, but she thinks the two of you are so cute and she gets why you’d want to be with him, and you’re outside of the most contagious window now, anyways. 
You figure that’s close enough to a yes, which is what you tell Jay when he returns from his shower. He’s at your side in an instant, hugging you like his life depends on it. “I’m sorry,” he whispers eventually.
“What on earth for?” 
“Our first Valentine’s is going to be so lame, just because I got sick.” He sighs deeply. “I wanted to make it special for you, especially because you’re always running around helping everyone, and instead you’re here, taking care of me.”
“Jay.” You pull back from his chest to look at him. “Nothing is lame, and nothing is ruined, okay? It’s literally just a day. And you always make me feel special. Being with you is like— ahem.” You cringe at the words that are about to come out of your mouth; Jay is always effusive and free-wheeling with his declarations of affection towards you, but it doesn’t come as easily to you. The way you feel about him makes you want to try, though. “Being with you is like Valentine’s Day every day.”
He smiles gently at you, one dimple carving a crescent into his left cheek. “You deserve it, baby. And even if you didn’t, I’d still want to give that to you.”
The two of you stand like that for a while, swaying underneath the unattractive lighting in Jay’s room. His hair starts to drip onto your shoulder, though, and you remember that you need to go back down to the kitchen to set aside the cookies you promised Heeseung.
“Why does Heeseung get to have some of the cookies you made for me?” Jay pouts.
“Troll bridge toll I felt compelled to pay, all because you wanted a second medical opinion,” you respond dryly.
“I’m supposed to believe you were the first? And I’m telling Heeseung you called him a troll.”
“Keep that up and you won’t be getting any cookies, Park.” 
Of course, you feed him a cookie as soon as you’re back in his room. Jay has changed into his pajamas while you were away, and he points to another set he’s laid out for you after he’s done eating the cookie. Once you get changed, you settle on the rug in front of Jay’s bed and start an obscure history documentary together while eating the food you brought him. You warn him that it won’t be as good as what he makes (you are a far better baker than you are a cook). Undeterred, he makes an exaggerated effort to fawn over every dish and praise your skills.
Afterwards, you sit on the edge of his bed and let him lean his head on your lap as you blow dry his hair. “I heard you were being a pain in the ass this week about Valentine’s Day,” you mention. 
“That… is a distinct possibility, for sure.”
“Seriously, I think you scared away all of Niki’s coworkers. He wants your help with research for his history paper, by the way. Oh, that reminds me— what’s the name of your group chat with Niki and Jungwon?”
Jay grimaces. “Glucose father slay.”
You suppress a snort. “That’s… creative, if unsubtle.”
He hums contentedly from the just-right warmth of the hairdryer and the just-right softness of your hands. “We’ll get to have lots of Valentine’s Days together, right?”
"Of course, baby."
When it hits midnight, you’re curled up together in his bed, with his laptop still playing the credits of the history documentary. You enter February 14th like that, tucked under his chin, exactly where you want to be.
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On one of the first randomly hot days that pop up in late March before the weather actually gets warmer, you’re holed up in the library, eyes aching after staring at the tiny text in ancient manuscripts for too long and shivering in the temperature-controlled special collections section of the library. While the rest of your friends are out at the college’s golf course enjoying the warm weather at a joint charity tournament, you’re stuck here, beholden to the block in your calendar which says “manuscript time :/”. The rare manuscripts you need for your thesis are only available to be looked at during certain times, but today’s research session has proven to be less than fruitful, given how often your eyes wander to the door to the exit and how empty your notes are.
You can feel yourself dozing off for the umpteenth time when suddenly, warm hands land on top of your shoulders, and a smooth voice murmurs in your ear, “Working hard or hardly working, Cinderella?”
Jay. You turn your head to meet his gaze; crescents of affection reflect back at you. “How’d you get in here?” Appointments are usually required for the rare manuscripts room.
He flashes you a smirk. “Charmed the librarian.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you pulled with the 40-and-up demographic like that.”
“Yeah, I told her I missed my girlfriend so much I’d cry if I couldn’t see her today.” He drops a kiss to your cheek, then maneuvers the chair next to you sideways and backwards so he can sit as close to you as possible. He crosses his arms on top of the back of the chair and rests his chin against his arms to stare at you, soft and beckoning. “You look like you want to leave.”
You sigh and turn fully sideways towards him, letting his long legs bracket yours while your knees push up against the back of his chair. “You look like a reason to leave,” you admit. It comes out breathy in a way that you hadn’t intended, but who can blame you— Jay is dressed for the golf tournament in a navy blue polo and crisp white slacks, and as always, his clothes fit like they were made for him. 
In the back of your mind, you make a note to ask where he gets his tailoring done. In the front of your mind, your attention roams from the clean line of his shirt sleeves against his biceps, to the inviting curve of his mouth, to the planes of his chest that peek out behind the top two undone buttons of his shirt. All these months later, looking at him still hasn’t gotten old; truthfully, you don’t think it ever will.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Jay inquires, peering closer at you with a sly grin on his face.
“Like you have to ask,” you grumble, reaching out to pinch his cheek in retaliation for the teasing question.
He grabs your hand before it reaches him and gently bites the tip of your index finger, laughing when you make an offended face and pull your hand back. “C’mon, let’s get out of here, yeah? We should at least make an appearance at the tournament we organized.”
You glance back at the heavy tomes you’ve pulled out today— pages and pages of dense Middle English to get through. Then, you look at Jay, who has chosen that moment to skate his fingertips up and down the top of your right thigh. The decision is almost comically easy to make. “Yeah, fuck this. Let’s go.” 
You dutifully return your books and say a polite goodbye to the librarian, who coos at you both. Jay waves your joined hands at her. On your way out to the main section of the library, goosebumps form on your arms from the change in temperature: arctic vortex to plain old frigid, both of which are wholly inhospitable environments for the sleeveless golf dress you’d worn today in hopes of eventually getting to the tournament. 
“Cold?” Jay halts you both and sweeps his hands across your shoulders and down to your wrists, frowning at the chill he encounters on your skin. Normally, he’d offer you his jacket or sweater or something, but he just has the shirt on his back today. “This won’t do,” he murmurs, and then he’s pulling you in the direction of the secluded stacks.
It’s dark and shadowy there, with not a single soul occupying any of the carrel desks spaced in between the rows of books. Your heartbeat picks up despite yourself; you think you have a good idea of where this is going. This is also something that hasn’t gotten old yet and likely never will. “You know, I’ve always thought it would be kind of hot to hook up in a library,” you comment.
Jay trips over air, then quickly rights himself and shakes his head as if to clear it before looking at you again. “You would, you nerd,” he says, but it comes out low and contemplative. 
As soon as you reach the carrel desk located in the most isolated corner of the stacks, he brings his hands to your waist and lifts you up to sit on top of the desk. Happily, you hook your ankles behind his legs and draw him in to stand between yours. “You can’t tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.”
“I just wanted to kiss you for a bit, so you could warm up,” Jay insists. He leans in closer, until your chests are pressed up against each other. “But now that we’re here…” 
“Now that we’re here,” you agree. Then you’re tilting forward to kiss him, and the tension in your body from a long morning at the library dissipates into the heat of his mouth and the softness of his hair.
Jay kisses you long and luxuriously, like he was born to do nothing but stand around and kiss you. “You did so well with planning the tournament,” he tells you in between kisses, smothering the words against your mouth. 
“You did, too,” you reply, dispensing the compliment in airy gasps against his ear as he moves down to your neck, feathering open-mouthed kisses against the skin there. A whimper escapes from your throat when he bites down at the juncture of your neck and your clavicle, transforming into a breathy moan as he soothes over the sting with his tongue. His name slips out of your mouth in a dragged-out whine: “Jongseong.” 
He shudders against you. “Warn a guy before you do that, will you? I don’t actually want to come in my pants in the library.”
You giggle, tugging his head back so you can look at him. You’re met with shiny lips, slow-blinking eyes that drag up and down your body, and tousled hair, messed up from Jay’s meticulous styling by your wandering hands. Temptation, personified. “Fuck,” you breathe out. “What if I do?”
“You’re not wearing pants,” Jay points out cheekily. His demeanor switches to sultry in an instant when he presses down on your bottom lip with his thumb, and he groans when your tongue darts out over it. “God, you’re so hot. C’mere, doll, let me sort you out.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re slipping out of the back door of the library and into the parking lot. You shoot off a quick text to Yunjin, asking her to hold down the fort for a little while longer at the tournament, and then Jay is tugging you into the backseat of his car with an urgency that makes your heart pound. Now, you get to sort him out, and it’s so much better than staring at old books.
yunjin: what is taking so long i sent jay to get u like 45 minutes ago
you: sorry be there in a bit love you babe!
yunjin: woooooooooow remember when i said i would never betray u for dick
yunjin: guess u DO NOT FEEL THE SAME
yunjin: ah well have fun don’t do anything i wouldn’t ;)
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to all the boys i’ve fake-dated before (you, sunghoon, yeonjun, chan, vernon, mark, and 5 others)
you: were any of you fuckers going to tell me that jay’s birthday is TOMORROW?!
you: help!!!!! what do i get for him!!!!!
sunghoon: believe me that man wakes up every day thanking god that ur his gf. u don’t need to get him anything
you: as much as i appreciate the reporting of his simp behavior, i am IN A PANIC his birthday is in 12 hours why the fuck didn’t anyone say anything sooner?!?!
vernon: i’m gifting him a new speaker for the basement
chan: bro you’re getting that gift for ALL of us bc you BROKE the speaker in the basement
vernon: and jay is one of the many recipients of that gift!
you: FOCUS on me and MY problem please
mark: yooooo u could write him a song? i still owe u a favor so i’d be down to help
you: and make him listen to me perform it? i’m trying to keep this relationship going, not obliterate it
yeonjun: mans has one single move in his arsenal
mark: HEY it worked out pretty well for me
yeonjun: only bc u had like a million ppl helping u
sunghoon: i got jay tickets to that japanese singer he likes
you: FUCK that’s such a good idea why didn’t i think of that
sunghoon: bc u didn’t know his birthday was coming up
you: thanks genius
sunghoon: but anyways jay never makes a big deal out of his birthday
sunghoon: it’s mostly like a sentimental thing for his parents bc they tried for so long to have him
vernon: strictly speaking, they were trying to have ANY of the sperm inseminate ANY of the eggs so like it didn’t have to be him specifically
mark: dude wtf
chan: i’m sure jay will love whatever you get for him! maybe you could paint or draw something for him?
you: okay yes yes i can bang something out real quick in the studio 
vernon: that’s what she said
yeonjun: this is why ur still single
you: the sperm and egg comment didn’t give it away?
vernon: guys stop ganging up on me wtf
you: okay thank you ONLY to chan the rest of you were useless
you: chan u could start a business. like a gift-giving idea business
mark: like santa claus but without the actual gifts?
yeonjun: ghost santa claus
chan: none of you should ever be allowed to start a business
It’s 5am by the time you’re finished in the studio, and you know your sleep cycle is going to be all sorts of messed up for the next few days, but it’s a small price to pay so you can slide into Jay’s bed and mold yourself against his body, knowing that your painting of the scene of your first date is leaning safely against the wall across from you. 
Unfortunately, the swift arrival of sunrise and birds chirping outside of Jay’s window leave you unable to fall asleep (not to mention the energy drink you’d chugged at 2am). You give up on it quickly, comforted by the fact that you don’t have any classes today and can afford to sleep in when your body eventually gives out on you. 
Staring at Jay is not an unenjoyable way to pass the time, so that’s what you do. Sleep smoothes out all the muscles in his face, but the sharp angles of the underlying bone structure turn him into marble; idly, you wonder how many sculptors would kill to be able to craft something this beautiful, this timeless and exquisite. You’ve tried to sketch or paint Jay multiple times yourself, and you’re still trying (that senior portfolio is going to be the death of you), but to date, you’ve been left unsatisfied. Something about Jay is just too expressive, too lively, too attentive; you haven’t been able to nail down the exact way he moves through the world, much less the way he looks at you like nothing else exists. There’s so much love to give in those steady hands, and so many meanings to divine in those familiar eyes—
Oh.
Jay’s eyes have flipped open, displaying his least endearing habit: sleeping with his eyes open. It unnerves you to no end, even though it makes him look kind of silly, so you have to flip around with a small grin on your face. “You’re lucky I love you so much,” you whisper, mostly to yourself.
His arm tightens around your waist. “Tell me something I don’t know.” The words come out slightly slurred, and the movement of his lips against the back of your neck makes you shiver. 
You flip back around to meet his now closed eyes. “You’re awake?” Jay usually sleeps like the dead.
“I’m trying really hard not to be,” he drawls. Eyes still closed, he tugs you closer to press his lips to your forehead. “Go to sleep, doll.”
You hum tunelessly and fidget with the pendant of his necklace. “Happy birthday, Jongseong.” You can feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, but you’re quick to nip that in the bud. “Or should I say… traitor? Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up? I had to find out from Jungwon.”
“Typical mama’s boy.”
You giggle, even as you admonish him with: “Seriously, that joke needs to die. One of Riki’s coworkers actually thinks I’m his mom, and I just have a really good Botox supplier.”
Jay’s chest rumbles in amusement underneath your ear. Afterwards, it’s quiet for a long moment before he finally opens his eyes to peer blearily at you. “Are you upset I didn’t tell you about my birthday?”
You give him a tiny shrug. “Just curious, I guess. Plenty of people don’t like to celebrate their birthdays. Sunghoon said it’s usually more of a thing for your parents than it is for you.”
“Yeah, that’s about right.” Jay rubs his thumb over your cheek. “I’m spending the day with them, actually. We go to the same place for brunch every year, and then we just kind of walk around until dinner, which I’ve been cooking for the past couple of years.”
You smile automatically at the thought of his parents. They adore you, and the feeling is mutual— how could it not be? 
Jay’s thumb halts its movements as something occurs to him. “Well, hey, do you wanna come with us?” 
Quickly, you shake your head. You can spot Jay’s Mr. Nice Guy gestures from a mile away. “Nah, you should keep up your tradition with your parents. We’re still getting lunch with them this weekend, right? So I’ll get to see them soon, anyways.”
“My mom said she loves the insoles you sent her, by the way.”
“Right? Super comfortable. I can stay on my feet in the studio all day in those.” Just then, you’re hit by a yawn. “I guess I did the equivalent of a full day last night.”
Suddenly, Jay sits up straight, making you whine about the loss of coziness. “Wait, yeah, why are you here so early? Not that I don’t love waking up next to you, because I really do, but you weren’t here last night, and… oh my god.” He cuts himself off when he spots the painting against his wall.
You sit up as well. “Don’t freak out,” you begin. “I had fun making it, okay? And I don’t have class today so I can sleep alllllll day and if you’re not tired after dinner we can hang out afterwards, and seriously, Jay, light of my life, apple of my eye, etcetera, etcetera— let me do something nice for you without you feeling guilty about it, okay?” You draw in a deep breath. “I know I’m, like, afflicted with a chronic need to be helpful, but c’mon. Pot, kettle.” You point to yourself and then to him. “I love that you’re humble and kind and you know how lucky you are, but there’s nothing… to prove. You hear me? Just because you’ve had a good life doesn’t mean you have to give 110% of yourself to everyone else to deserve it. Please don’t make yourself feel bad because you get to take something from me for once instead of giving.” At the end of your rant, you blink in surprise at yourself. “Sorry, I don’t know when that turned into a lecture. All I’m saying is that you told me once that you’d want to give me Valentine’s Day every day, even if I didn’t deserve it, and I want to give that to you, too.”
Jay’s eyes flick between you and the painting and back to you, staring at you like he’s never seen you before. He’s speechless for so long that you count to 33 in your head in Mississippis that are definitely longer than one second. Finally, he crushes you to his chest in a hug that has your arms flailing around him with the force of it. “I feel like you just crawled into my head,” he says against your ear.
You make a face that he can’t see. “Didn’t need that visual in my head, but okay, baby.”
“I mean… I’m just feeling very perceived; that’s all. And I don’t really have anything else to say except that I love you so much, and thank you, and you’re my favorite person in the world.” He sniffles, and then preempts you with a, “Shut up.”
“Noooooo, I made you cry,” you coo at him, leaning back in his hold to swipe under his eyes with your thumbs. As you continue to fuss over him and he pretends to bite at your fingers, he hopes you know just how much he’s affected by your words and just how much you mean to him. Golden boy Park Jongseong, the prodigal son, the miracle child— he doesn’t think it could fairly be called a burden, because how could it be a burden to be so lucky, to be so loved, to have never truly suffered? But somehow, you get it. Maybe because you’re cut from the same self-sacrificing cloth, or maybe because you just understand him at an atomic level, but you get it. You get that he has dedicated his life to deserving his life in the first place; you get that he tries so hard, all the time, because he wants to be worthy of what he’s been given; you get that he gives, and gives, and gives, and he never wants to take, because he feels like he hasn’t done enough to pay back the gifts with which he was born, let alone take anything else from this world. And here you are, giving him your heart on his birthday— a day he doesn't think is anything special except for the joy it gives his parents— because you love him. Because you're just glad that you were born in the same timeline. He has never dared to ask for a gift like this.
Pathetically, all that he can get out is a simple, “I love the painting, by the way.” He nudges your nose with his. “I’m going to have it framed for our place after we graduate.”
“Our place?”
“Oh, yeah.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “I guess this is me asking. Do you want to live with me next year? Wherever it is that we end up. It would be, you know, economical.”
“Right, because we totally didn’t just have a conversation about your hang-ups with being born with a silver spoon in your mouth. And mine, too, I guess.”
Jay tsks at you. “Okay, or maybe I just want to wake up next to you every day. And make you food when you forget to eat, and listen to your horrible true crime podcasts while we clean up around the place, and hold your hair when you get sick because you forgot to take your Lactaid, and make sweet, sweet love to you every night—”
“Okay, okay, stop!” You’re laughing uncontrollably now, putting your hands up to stop Jay and the obnoxious kissy-face he’s making from coming any closer to you. “I didn’t need that much convincing, although I’m not sure how effective your convincing is when you’re just listing my bad habits, Mr. I-Sleep-With-My-Eyes-Open.”
“Yeah, but aren’t I lucky that you love me so much?” Jay smirks at you before tackling you down into his bed.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” you repeat to him. Sunlight slants in through the window behind his head, haloing him in a light so ethereal that you could be convinced the sun shines just for him. Like this, your words fade away from you, until all you’re left with is a quiet, heartfelt, “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I’ll live with you after we graduate.” Softly, you stroke through the hair at his nape. “Stop wondering, by the way.”
Jay’s eyebrows furrow. “Wondering what?”
You reach up to smooth away the crease in his brow. “Wondering if you’re allowed to be this happy. I just told you, like, a million times. You are. The heavens have decreed that Park Jongseong shall be happy for as long as he lives, and a long time after that.” Dramatically, you tap each of his shoulders, as if you’re knighting him. “It is thus decided.”
Jay swoops down and plants a chaste peck on your lips. “Well, since it’s thus decided. Let me add something to that decree, though: I’m going to make you happy for as long as I live, and a long time after that,” he promises. 
And you know he will.
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(London is overcast and dreary when you touch down at Heathrow; typical, for a mid-September day. You and Jay still carry tans from a summer of island-hopping around Asia and the Mediterranean, but you’re sure those will fade soon. Still, there’s nothing you can complain about when Jay’s arm is snug around your waist and he looks like a dream in a light wool coat and admittedly unnecessary sunglasses.
You tease him about the sunglasses all the way to the doorstep of your new, shared apartment. But then he kisses you across the threshold and whispers about how much he loves you and how excited he is to be with you for the rest of his life, and you are so, so happy. Unbelievably happy. Beautifully happy. 
Happy, forevermore. This, the heavens have decreed.)
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fumifooms · 4 months
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Metal Sonic. He was also created to be a weapon but unlike Shadow as a robot he’s not raised with love at all. He has 1 purpose and it’s to kill Sonic, he’s the "superior Sonic", his identity is Sonic his purpose is Sonic killing his original is where his life starts and stops. But even being a robot, he has soo much anger. He’s reckless and does irrational things out of wrath and impatience.
Push him the wrong way and he does a takeover, gets delusional enough — desperate enough that being the ‘superior’ Sonic has failed him, that it may be untrue — to think he’s the original Sonic, and ultimately when Sonic defeats him then again in his last effort he transforms into a huge monster and it’s such a striking visual of just how he has such little sense of self beyond the goal that he thinks will make him worthy of existing and how much he’s willing to self-destruct for it. He finally gets a mouth and he screams. What comes after proving he’s the better Sonic, after crushing him? Then what? What? Even at his highest level of power and social hierarchy and closest to his goal he’s miserable.
Like he hates Sonic he hates him for who he is, for what he represents and for being all that Metal isn’t, but also he wants to be him so so bad. If he could just defeat Sonic, everything in the world will fall into place and everything will be crystal clear, he knows it.
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No but truly, the way time and time again he throws himself into death if it means having even a shot of beating Sonic in any way. He’s always like "being a robot makes me superior, organics are pathetic" but in Reflections he wishes he was as weak as one if it made him closer to being Sonic. He’s not Sonic he can never be Sonic and he knows it but he can’t do anything about it and he can’t handle it. He’d rather die to feel like he’s closer to being Sonic than be superior and apart.
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Dying would have been the preferable outcome, just for a confirmation he can die the way Sonic does. Something that by all accounts should seem meaningless to a machine, but cognitive dissonance is the only way things make sense anymore. He just wants to go off in fireworks. He craves attention, he craves recognition, he craves an identity and for people to acknowledge it, for it to feel if only a little more real.
He’s tired of failing and failing and failing and failing but it’s his fault if he always fails, it’s his hubris, it’s his temper, it’s the choices he actually makes. Or is it his fault? Can we blame him for failing, can we blame him for not being able to best Sonic, the undefeated, the cosmic hero? Or was he just born without the power to best Sonic? Was he just made too weak, his body not strong enough and his program too unwise and dysfunctional. By all accounts if there was a healing arc for him it should be about accepting his limitations, but how crushing it is to even consider that he truly could have been born Not Enough for what was literally his reason to live. Being Sonic is an impossible goal, of course, but beating him is just as hopeless, but a hope he clings onto nonetheless. What else does he have?
He’s mute he’s so so angry he has literally no way to externalize anything. After all he’s a robot and robots don’t need to talk! Robots only have to fulfill their tasks and that’s it! And Metal has been failing his one task for years and years and forever since his first moment of life.
It drives me crazy how much and how often the symbol of Sonic is weaponized. Sonic, The Hero, the virtuous compassionate saint, the fastest thing alive. Victory seems effortless for him. He simply is, as fast as the wind and a living hurricane. He’s even cocky. He rubs it in. By being such a force of nature that so many misguided villains have to overcome as an obstacle on their own personal journey, he becomes the Great Power to defeat to achieve happiness, our protagonist’s triumph feels like fate and it feels cruel.
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It’s him, it’s his story, he always triumphs and whatever failures that means for others they’re theirs to deal with. How can you possibly grow past him when he’s everywhere winning everything and all you know is losing. Did he ever have any shot? Just once. Just once let him prove himself. Sonic is a plague on Metal Sonic’s life. It’s not his fault, it’s never been his fault, but he is, things just are, it’s fate, maybe, and it’s cruel, surely.
Except it’s not inevitable, because several times he gets offered an olive branch and always he agressively refuses it.
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He has some degree of free will, we know it, and he does get opportunities, and yet. He has the key but chooses to shackle himself. He cannot be saved he won’t be saved he’ll never let it
It’s the curse of comics needing a status quo that he doesn’t never redemption arcs except Shard I guess, of course, but tragically it also just… Fits Metal’s character so well, it makes perfect sense. He’s the one doing this all to himself, in a way. The circumstances of his creation and his environment molded him to a degree so existentially intense that the right to exist is achievement-based, what else is there for him? Failure is painful, but escaping the mold you were made for can be so much scarier. The pain, at least, is something you know, have learned to handle.
So he gets comic issues and games showing slivers of him, having an identity crisis and suicidal ideation and breakdowns, but that’s it. He’s a robot so his body doesn’t really matter so he can die all the time, and he does! He usually ends up dying in lava and whatnot, pushed foward and never letting go, always clinging onto his purpose with claws and fraying engines, trying to kamikaze enough for the explosion blast to do what he never achieved in life. Even if he wasn’t desensitized to his own death and didn’t have an infinite amount of bodies because of the AI situation, I don’t think he’d act one bit different tbh. He’s reckless because he’s replaceable, but would he feel any less if there weren’t other copies of him, himself a flawed copy?
He always just… Chooses to not grow, because it’s too painful to acknowledge that your life has been a lie and meaningless and you’re wrong about everything. He chooses to go back to his abusive creator, he always stagnates in evil and does it again and again every day and keeps the rage burning because that’s the only thing keeping him going.
It’s the only thing he has, the rage is the only thing that’s actually his. It’s the thing that fuels him whenever he disobeys orders, it fuels every action he initiates. The only thing he has is rage and he has to keep it this way because otherwise it’d be fear instead.
"See me as I am! No longer afraid of anything!"
Metal only you can fix yourself and you won’t, but know that at your funeral I’ll be there and sobbing
Sonic as an unattainable symbol of excellence and love and goodness and strength and power. Sonic as a reminder that you’ll never live up to what you wish you could be. Sonic as the identity reference point to overcome. The Hero to beat to step out of the shadows and become your own person. The hero to defeat to stop being the villain. Losing my mind
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It feels like he kicks them while they’re down and it’s just not true, but I think it’s crazy good that they manage to make us feel it from the villain’s angle even just from composition sometimes.
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autistic-ace · 10 months
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florist with passion for gardening / tattoo artist with his own rock band or writer working in a flower shop 'cause he ain't 'bestseller' (yet) / white collar with passion for graffiti (goes by the name scratch)
[ilkka's images - @deerfests old post]
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moongothic · 9 months
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Yeah no I can't stop thinking about this. I need to get this extremely cursed theory out of my system. Let's just go.
Could Rayleigh and Shakky be Crocodile's parents?
So the thing is, I was gonna post about this like ages ago, but then I canned my original post. Because I realized that based on the timeline we have, for this theory to be true Shakky would've had to become pregnant at age 17 and given birth at 18 while Rayleigh was like 31. And needless to say, that's gross as hell. So yeah, I cancelled that original theory post because of that.
But then I realized that between Oda repeatedly treating 17 year olds as """not children""" in OP (see: Dragon literally saying Luffy isn't a child anymore at age 17), and other shit like how 16 year old Pudding was almost married to 21 year old Sanji
Like shit's creepy as hell. But alas, because Oda is Oda, it would actually fit in-universe. Like the theory is still fucking viable. Because fucking Oda, man.
And god fucking damnit the thought just keeps on haunting me. Because I am unironically curious whether or not this could be a genuine, viable theory. So yeah. I just need to get this theory out of my system. Let's just get it done with, alright
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So what kind of started off this theory in my mind was remembering Buggy's off-hand comment/joke about Rayleigh being Luffy's uncle
Because that got me also thinking about some other, vaguely related theories, and like... Like we all know these theories, right;
that Luffy's mom is a Kuja (people speculate that's why Kuma sent him to Amazon Lily, that Luffy had a connection to the island)
that Crocodile has Kuja heritage (the Missing Empress is pretty much debunked but it is a popular, related and vaguely relevant theory too)
that Crocodile is Luffy's other dad
And I could not help but to wonder if these theories could somehow be combined together into one Giga Theory
And the funny thing is, we know that Rayleigh did marry a Kuja Empress, Shakky. Which actually does mean that the four theories could be mashed together. Like sure the other three theories could already be combo'd together but Buggy's theory would somehow really complement the other theories and bring them all together???
Of course, if Crocodad is real and Rayleigh turned out to be Crocodile's dad, then Buggy's comment wouldn't be fully accurate, since Rayleigh would be Luffy's other grandfather, not uncle. But it'd still be funny as hell in its own right, since the two would turn out to be blood-relatives. Like how the fuck was Buggy onto something there. Not to mention, as of now, two of Buggy's predictions in the Summit War Saga have already turned true (him becoming a Shichibukai and then a Yonkou, the only one that hasn't come true yet is him becoming Pirate King)
But indeed, if Shakky and Rayleigh were Crocodile's parents, then that would mean Crocodile would have Kuja heritage, it would mean Luffy's birthing parent was (technically) a Kuja, Buggy's joke would be kind of true and, yeah, Crocodad Real. That would be insane. We got a full fucken bingo over here
But then we have all these details to considder;
We know Shakky quit being the Kuja Empress and a pirate 42 years ago, when she moved to Sabaody and opened her bar. We don't know why she did this move, especially because at this point Rayleigh should've still been adventuring with Roger's crew
At that point, Crocodile would've been 4 years old
Based on Baby Croc's art, he isn't wearing Kuja clothes. If he had been raised in Amazon Lily then surely he would've been wearing their clothes*, but if he moved to Sabaody with Shakky and was raised there, then his get-up would fit in just fine
The trivia books claim Crocodile is a Grand Line native; regardless of if he was raised in Amazon Lily or Sabaody, both would add up
*(To be fair, if Oda had drawn Baby Croc in Kuja Clothes, that would've been a MASSIVE SPOILER to drop in an SBS. And Film Z did go out of its way to NOT include Baby Croc in the credits when all the other Baby Shichibukai were, so like, Baby Croc's art isn't Absolute Lore or anything, it is subject to change)
Indeed, if Shakky had decided to move out of Amazon Lily and went to Sabaody specifically knowing that if Roger's crew ever passed by then that would make sense, since it would mean she'd have an increased chance at seeing her husband again (if only briefly). It would also make sense if she moved out with her child and/or because she had a child, since it'd make it easier for her to ensure her child and the father could maybe get to meet and spend time together, as staying on Amazon Lily would've meant Rayleigh wouldn't have been able to enter the town even if he DID swam all the way there. (Also her options would've been to either leave her child behind or bring the child with her, and if she didn't want the kid to grow up in Amazon Lily for whatever reason then this would've been the perfect opportunity to remove that child from the island)
If Crocodile grew up in Sabaody then it could explain things like Baby Croc's serious expression and how he has a gun; there are dangerous people in Sabaody, the kid would've had to learn to defend himself from a young age (and I'm sure Shakky would've been happy to teach her child how to fight, since the Kuja are fierce warriors and being powerful is beautiful etc). It would also explain Crocodile's racism towards Jinbei, since anti-Fishman racism is a common issue in Sabaody. He would also have grown up in a place where slavery and other shit is a commonly known and seen thing, as well as the crimes of the Tenryuubito. This would explain a lot about his general attitude towards the World Government
Also, if both of Crocodile's parents were pirates, and his dad also happened to literally be on the ship of the Pirate King... Yeah it would explain his career choises. And why he had gone to Roger's execution too, since that would've been not just the Greatest Pirate In The World, but also his father's captain
And if these two were Croc's parents, it could explain his title; he could be "Sir" Crocodile because he is the son of an empress, or it could be a fucked up abbreviation from Silvers (note: it doesn't work like that in Japanese, since "sir" is like "saa" while "silvers" is "shirubaasu", but that's why I said "fucked up abbreviation")
Either way, his fullname would then be Sir Silvers Crocodile
A fitting name for a silver medalist, is it not
I just. I hate how much sense this would make
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Also I'll throw this out there; don't want to put too much money on the whole "they look similar" thing due to Oda's same face syndrome, but there is an argument to be made about Oda's fem!Croc looking quite similar to Shakky, while if you squint your eyes, a younger Rayleigh could kinda look a bit like regular Croc (they even have the same haircut, awe), though it's hard to judge since we have so little art of young Rayleigh and old Rayleigh is, well, visibly much older than Crocodile
Really the only things I can think of that COULD debunk the idea are that Crocodile is MUCH TALLER than either Rayleigh or Shakky, and his bloodtype doesn't match (the two are A/AB while Croc is O). And my normal instinct would be like "if they were related then surely these details would add up because Oda is insane", but also. They are minor details. IDK man
Also, Crocodile aside. Shakky and Rayleigh have known each other for a long ass time, and Rayleigh's tendency to sleep around, it is entirely possible the two could have had a child at some point. And that really would explain why Shakky quit being an Empress. Like it doesn't even have to be Crocodile, it would just make sense if they had a kid and if that kid became the reason to Shakky quitting. The question is, who could that child then be?? And what happened to them??
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direwombat · 7 months
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the novice, the scholar, and the stray dog
or, the sole remaining members of the brotherhood's (defunct) detroit bureau in ASSASSIN'S CREED: MOTOR CITY
template made by @unholymilf (tumblr wouldn't let me tag directly, so linking to the blog instead)
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joblessquinoa · 1 year
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The Limousine team delivering the best stage in Boys Planet, where they wrote and performed their own raps about being evil-edited, getting no screen time, and struggling with the language barrier, and then immediately getting eliminated was so poetic
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enlichened · 2 years
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I'm at the 2mm hole in the world. I'm at the smallest church in Saint-Saëns. I'm at the combination 2mm hole in the world and smallest church in Saint-Saëns.
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rick's backstory introduced a lot of plot holes and basically you can either accept the pre-backstory-reveal era as its own subset of canon OR you can headcanon ways for them to make sense SO i think the main issue with the multiverse setup is birdperson, because he's presumably as infinite as everyone else BUT the way rick acts about him would only make sense if it's always the same birdperson FURTHERMORE some moments absolutely ring hollow because of the backstory, in particular any nods to rick c-137 and morty prime having interacted before rick landed in the prime dimension just before s1 such as the picture of rick holding baby morty in bird person's house and rick's memory of holding baby morty SO for the sake of narrative cohesion rick should always have been friends with the same birdperson, and to a lesser extent the same morty, and overall because rick knew the prime dimension was the prime dimension when he settled there it makes sense for him to have spent a lot of time there before THEREFORE instead of his birdperson being some random universe's birdperson it would make sense for him to be the prime dimension's birdperson AND THEN with the possibility that rick spent a lot of time in the prime dimension prior to s1 (and even the creation of the citadel of ricks) while he hunted rick prime - it makes sense for him to have exhausted earth prime for resources on where to find rick prime SO that means he may have even been around the prime dimension for morty prime's birth (maybe part of him thought morty's birth would draw rick prime back into the picture, who knows) AND SO the baby photos and memories are indeed of morty prime. ffdkffffggjtjfgggg,,,,,,,,, ,,
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vaguely-concerned · 1 year
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the absolute insane research rabbit hole I am currently going down to try to determine the one (1) specific version of the robin hood stories I listened to on cassette tape audiobook in like 2001 and that permanently affected my brain chemistry. I am going nuts. and yet I must know. if anyone by chance should happen to know what version it could have been, considering that it was likely produced in the 90s or a bit before (from memory of the state of the cassette packaging, it was quite worn) and available (in norwegian but in translation) from a small library in somewhat rural norway... please tell me and free me from this self-inflicted torment lol
some more vaguely remembered context that might help pinpoint it:
robin dies at the end, and I think he's already been parted from marian for some time before that (I don't remember if it's because she's dead or just For Reasons, but the growing melancholy of the last few chapters even before he dies were probably what made this version imprint itself on my brain). he's at a convent after falling sick and the abbess or something is an old enemy of his (and maybe his cousin??) and goes whole hog on the bleeding cure to make sure he doesn't get up again. little john (and maybe will scarlet?? some merry man at least) are there with him as he dies and little john cries while robin comforts him. this scene did permanent things to my psyche I suspect. peak 'THIS WASN'T IN THE DISNEY FILM WITH THE FUNNY ANIMALS!!'-betrayal and outrage mixed with 'but also this is so sad it's somehow beautiful...' formative childhood experience.
if I remember correctly there's a bit more of the rest of the merry men than you get in most adaptations. robin and little john had some powerful homoerotic Somethings going on to my baby queer mind but that's just what the robin hood mythos is so idk what that adds to it in terms of helping with the search
I think it must have stuck fairly close to the original ballads that we have, at least comparatively (I've had a looksie and it was definitely not howard pyle's version. I think it had a bit more somber/serious tone especially towards the end, and less of the faux-old fashioned language)
I remember finding it very funny that robin's way of making friends was just finding people who proved they could easily beat him up or were better at stuff than he was and going 'you rule do you wanna join my cool club? :D' and them all being like 'you're an annoying little twerp but also ...yeah <3'. he may also have met marian like that in this or I may be mixing it up with a different version.
from this and some other odds and ends through my downward spiral of obsession I have a tentative theory it may have been either rosemary suthcliff or antonia fraser's versions (both from the 1950s)? but especially with the layer of translation getting inbetween it's so hard to tell haha
I understand if all anyone has to offer when faced with this always sunny conspiracy board of leads is sympathy and/or rightful mockery, but all ideas are welcomed with open arms
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