#for a long time i only related to the aspirational parts of fiction
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I made and deleted a post about this a few weeks ago but I've been thinking a lot about projecting onto toxic ships/dynamics in fiction, and not onto the romantic parts ("I relate to Pete in Vegaspete because I want someone to unlock me to human touch") but onto the very toxic parts ("I relate to Vegas in Vegasporsche because he's lying his ass off and orchestrating Porsche's downfall, and mentally blaming Porsche for everything he's planning to do to him, for believing the wrong things and choosing the wrong side, AND for falling for Vegas's obvious facade! Dummy I've always been your enemy it's SO OBVIOUS!! Yet in the moment, when they're riding bikes or hugging and Vegas is compartmentalizing, he does genuinely care about Porsche and feel honest affection for him, and that's what sells the lie... and makes Vegas hate himself for his traitorous weakness and want to sabotage any sincere moments they have"), and how huge this distinction feels to me. So I wanted to do like a Tell me the most toxic fictional thing you overidentify with meme.
Not sure that's the best way to word it, and you don't have to (and probably shouldn't) explain why, but like. Don't tell me "I relate to Korn as a parent;" tell me "I relate to Korn when he's preventing his children from competing by pitting them against their cousins instead, because he can blame that on their grandfather and his brother and not himself, and pretend his kids are fine and it's just the cousins who are getting destroyed". Does that make sense? This way also I don't have to know your toxic blorbo to understand your toxic emotion. Anyway do it
#dear diary#or don't do it it's ok if this gets zero notes but i'm curious#(you can also just reply to this post lol)#for a long time i only related to the aspirational parts of fiction#and now this year i'm apparently in my villain era#in my 'villain but i still think i'm right and doing the right thing but it feels bad man' era#i also genuinely think it helps get through tough times to make up grandiose fictional parallels in your head#like this friend breakup sure felt shitty - why don't i compare it to an EPIC TRAGEDY WHERE THEY BOTH DIE that will make me feel better#and it does! it always does#wallowing is good sometimes#kpts#since that's where i drew all my examples#btw the vegaspete and vegasporsche examples are true statements#the korn one is not! i didn't have another toxic example to overshare from myself
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hi!!! i just wanted to pop in after reading some of your AC fics (ones where desmond, ezio, and/or altaïr are at the forefront so in this case: i was born for this, terrible two, stone angel, gift of living well, impermanence, three fold, & earthly scene) and say that you're a brilliant writer. as someone who's trying to write longer, more impactful stories, it's admirable how you prioritize the plot and how romance is a sweet part of it. (this is part 1 of this message bc of the word count!)
you construct romance in an original, cathartic way that feels effortless. i just finished 'i was born with this' and the romance that forms between the characters feels so natural and unforced. another thing i love in your fics is that when desmond goes back in time, he always (unintentionally at first) makes an impact in furthering knowledge, inventions, etc centuries ahead of when they were supposed to happen. more importantly, desmond finds his well-deserved happy ending.
your fic ideas are also so creative and out of the box. i'm currently going through the games right now and desmond has been so so much shit (unwillingly) and he deserves some rest and happiness :,) another thing i love is how you always leave a hopeful ending that makes me ache to know what happens after!! you flesh out the characters so much over the span of + 100,000k words, tie things wonderfully at the end, and make me feel out breath (in a good way)
yeah, to sum that up, you're an amazing writer!! i also wanted to ask you some questions about writing. i aspire to write long fics, but i struggle with plotting out events =( i feel like i rush the events in how i want to get to the end where the characters are happy! do you have a writing process? do you plot out your stories or kind of go with the flow? do you have any tips on improving your writing? i totally get if you don't have any advice! have a great day!
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Thank you for your nice comments, sorry it took so long to reply, I was feeling very antisocial. Anyway.
I do not have a writing process - I'm what they call a gardner writer, I take characters and I put them into situations and see how things develop and plot either happens or it doesn't. Maybe I have vague plans like "here's a scene I want to see in future" and "this is a result I want them to come to" and then try to write towards those goals, but they don't always pan out. It's all very chaotic and leads to lot of dropped fics, but it's how I enjoy writing. (It really helps having someone reading your stuff and poking at the plot holes though, I got a lot of fics that only got as far as they did because nimadge or someone else was there along for the ride.)
I dunno if there's anything other that just practice that can improve a person's writing. Some people recommend writing short stories and flash fiction, some people say your should write X amount of words every day. If all else fails there's thousands YouTube videos on subject.
Personally I'm a huge advocate of taking ideas from other people and putting your own spin into them. Derivate, rehash, put them in a blender, see what comes out. Like, don't copy Lord of the Rings word for word and publish it as your own work, that's bad - but maybe dwarf and elf going on adventures together is a idea that could go places. Fanfiction is all derivation upon pre-existing ideas.
Related, I whole heartedly endorse anyone who wants to take plots and ideas I've written and taking a crack at them with their own style. It's pretty much how I learned to write as wee bab on a typewriter, stealing from the books I enjoyed. And hell, if you don't have a style, try someone else's. One is my most popular fics started with me trying to emulate the style and cadence of narration of a completely unrelated TV series I was watching at the time. I don't think anyone even noticed.
Once you have enough practice under your belt, your style will develop on its own.
#About writing#Fake it till you make it basically#Obviously don't copy straight up that won't teach you anything - but master studies are one of the better training methods for a reason#Lot of the old masterpieces were produced by people who were once students emulating the styles of their predecessors
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Why I Love Kpop (I think)
I’ve joked before that everyone who likes kpop secretly wants to be in a polycule, but like most jokes the more I think about that statement, the more truth I find in it. After all, kpop disrupts the way we think about homosocial relationships, and it often presents queer dynamics for its audience to ponder and sometimes even obsess over. Lately, (and by lately I mean for almost 8 years) I’ve been captivated by the question of why I and so many other queer people love kpop so much. The following is a stream-of-consiousness attempt at answering that question. I’ll be speaking from the perspective of a queer femme fan who listens to and watches mostly male idols, but of course I know this topic is richer than just this one dynamic. I don’t speak for all queer people or all kpop fans.
For as long as I can remember I’ve been listening to, performing, and analyzing music, but when I think about kpop, I’m thinking about it very differently than any other musical media. Because yes, kpop is about the music but it’s also about so much else. It’s about queerness and bodily autonomy and relationships both toxic and beneficial. I, like a lot of queer people, love fantasy worlds and characters because they present their audiences with beings who live outside the norm, people and places unbounded by logic and social constraints. They offer us an escape from a world that is unaccepting of our ever-expansive queer identities, and a vision of the possibility for a better one.
But kpop occupies this intensely fascinating space between fantasy and reality. Fans online talk about idols more like they’re fictional characters than real people, frequently speculating about an idol’s time away from the narrative their company puts out the way someone might headcanon a fictional character. These group narratives a company creates give idols an air of fantasy and mystery, allowing for this fan speculation to run amok on social media as they attempt to “fill in the blanks.” But kpop offers a grounding in reality that pure fiction cannot. Here exists a fantasy world you can really see and hear and walk through. These characters you project onto are actually real people.
So why do I love kpop? The answer changes almost daily, but lately I think it's because in many ways, kpop seems to be made to be enjoyed by queer people. The 20th century had gay men who were devoted to Judy Garland, and now we have the Jungkook lesbians.
Queers have always dominated fandom spaces. As people who are more likely to lack role models in our everyday lives, we’ll often turn to fandom media for guidance about how to love and how to be. I think “straight” mass media lately is obsessed with being “relatable” but queer people don’t usually relate to the narratives put out by the heterosexual media machine. This is why kpop is really appealing to members of the community. It’s overwhelmingly uninterested in being relatable, instead, it's aspirational. This parallels the queer self, who is often more invested in the journey of becoming than it is in running towards a more clean-cut goal like home ownership or a nuclear family.
But when I think about kpop, I also think about my own body and its autonomy (or lack thereof). I think about the performance of femininity. This feels a bit strange and vulnerable to admit, but a part of me has always been willing to hand over my body in exchange for love and devotion. This is the kind of transaction a kpop idol makes when they sign a contract. It’s easy to criticize when we see it put in front of us so plainly, but queer people (especially trans people) and those assigned female at birth have always been aware that they don’t entirely own their bodies or decide their actions.
Idols capture exactly the level of freedom I believe is currently possible for me because frequently as a queer person and a feminine person I feel like the only way I can be accepted and safe is if I offer up my body and self in a way that is sanitized and therefore marketable and commodifiable.
Queerness is more accepted today than it was even a few years ago, but there are still limitations to that acceptance. Queer people who remind the dominant heterosexual power structures of tropes and stereotypes are more accepted than those who are living their lives in active opposition to straight expectations. Of course, we know that stereotypes are oppressive tools used to dehumanize people, which is why the pressure many members of the community feel to censor their identities in order to fit into these tropes and stereotypes (while often done for their own safety) is especially demoralizing.
Kpop also relies heavily on tropes when it comes to constructing the narrative of their groups’ dynamics. We know that much of this is done to make the group marketable and commodifiable. But one positive is that a performative self can protect a kpop idol’s privacy from a world that demands celebrities provide their fans with an endless stream of details about themselves and their lives. In the same way, a performative self can protect a queer person from persecution.
This begs the question of how much someone can stand to perform an inauthentic self, even if that performance helps keep them safe. Lately, this is where I see myself most in the idol on my screen. Like me, I feel he is constantly engaged in a horrific balancing act, asking himself how much he can stand to inhabit a performative self for his own safety. Like me, I feel he is questioning whether an authentic self even exists and if it does, will its appearance cut him off from the audience’s love? Like me, I feel he is screaming for a way out.
These men have been locked into a performance their overwhelmingly queer and female fanbases are all too familiar with. Their personal and financial livelihood depends on their ability to appeal to their audience just as the safety of queer people is dependent on the way they are viewed by the domineering heterosexual power. The relationship between idol and fanbase is both symbiotic and toxic. Idols become what they think their audiences want, and this performance is terrifyingly reflected in the lives of their marginalized fans.
This is the point in my thinking where I ask myself what I even hope to gain from this line of inquiry. Is it some sort of twisted self reflection? Is it an unhinged brain-ego trip? Is there even anything here worth exploring? I believe (and hope) there is. I and most people who analyze media today are pushing back on the idea that someone has to be exactly like you for you to relate to them. On the surface, the male idol is nothing like me, but the aspirational nature of kpop media invites me to see him and myself as more hauntingly alike than I would sometimes like to admit. He is androgynous in ways I could only ever dream of, yet he is yearning like me. He is queer like me.
One of the pillars of anthropology (so much so that it’s almost become a cliche) is that its goal is to make the strange familiar and the familiar strange. To the untrained eye, kpop might look like a shallower reflection of our everyday world, one that’s even more image-conscious and subjugated by the demands of capitalism. It certainly can be those things, but when I look at kpop I see the current human condition distilled. Most of us alive today have been trained to constantly seek validation from those around us. Kpop is both familiar and strange because it reminds us of the ways we perform for audiences either real or imagined. It can make us uncomfortable because it shows us just how much we are willing to sacrifice to satisfy the demands of those audiences. In censoring ourselves, we become our own voyeurs and are left wondering who has more power, observed or observer?
So why do I love kpop? I’m not always entirely sure that I do. What I do know is that it’s not really about some fantasy of receiving affection. I don’t turn to idols for tenderness. I never wanted to feel loved, I just wanted to see something beautiful up close. I wanted to see someone who was suffering in the same way I was. I wanted to seek some unprovable personal truth, that perhaps this ethereal creature I saw on my screen was, in fact, just like me. Sure, they had a surface-level beauty I could never reach, but we were alike in all the ways that mattered.
And here I am now, with all of this behind me, wondering if I am (and continue to be) just some more than slightly messed up and lonely child looking for connection in all the wrong places. But then again, aren’t we all?
#kpop#bts#stray kids#ateez#tomorrow x together#essay#writing#queer#lgbtq#music#bodily autonomy#anthropology#fandom#social media#queerness#gender#androgyny#shinee
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KH OC Week Day 1
Hello! How fun that KH OC Week is finally here! Actually, even though I've known about it since it started, I've never actually taken part in it. But I'm trying it! I'm trying so hard! I've been writing for a very long time, but only started dabbling in KH-related stuff because of @hinataoc. My characters were really originally mostly made to help support her characters and her stories, but the ol' writing bug would bite me every here and there and eventually I started writing little stories and adventures of my own for them. I've got a few now, but this week I think I'll just focus on the two OCs that started this journey for me. So... uh, here we go.
Day 1: Introductions
◾Tell us about your OC!
To start off my first OC Week, I’d like to introduce two of my characters - Velcia and Velcia! …Wait, what?
Yes, I’m afraid that it may seem a bit confusing at first. Both characters share the same name and very similar appearances, but they are in fact very different people! So let me introduce them both and tell you a bit about each one.
First, credit to the amazing @amyhayanora for the wonderful art of these two for me! She did such a good job of bringing them to life.
Now, to get started! On the left we have the first “Velcia”, who lived in Daybreak Town as a Keyblade Wielder up until the Keyblade War.
KHx-Era Velcia:
Her true name is “Valencia Florere”, but when she arrived in Daybreak Town all alone at the age of 3 years old she was unable to pronounce her own name properly. Nobody in Daybreak Town could have known otherwise, and so her mispronunciation “Velcia” was how she was known. For just this one introduction, I’ll use her ‘real name’, though don’t expect her to recognize it!!
As a toddler, Valencia was rescued from the Lanes Between Worlds by The Master of Masters, who did not deem fit to provide to anyone else an explanation of how she ended up there. Not having the faculty to raise a babbling baby, The Master of Masters created a digital data world modeled after Enchanted Dominion. This snippet of a world was completely devoid of danger, and it was here that Valencia was raised alongside a digital Aurora by the Good Fairies.
Pleasant and peaceful though it was, being raised by digital facsimiles of real people does tend to leave one a little odd, and by time Valencia was old enough to leave this fictional nursery she was quite an odd girl indeed.
Shy, awkward, and almost entirely lacking in social skills, Valencia was nonetheless an aspiring artist who quickly honed her craft as she worked to document as many Wielders and events in Daybreak Town as she could as a sort of reclusive self-styled historian. Her fingers and hands usually have pencil smears on the sides from all her drawing. She does wipe them off constantly, but she’s also drawing constantly so it’s a bit of a self-defeating endeavor.
She doesn’t try to be annoying or obnoxious but has a vague sense that there are things that she does that bother other people that she can’t really seem to change. This leaves her with a bit of a lack of confidence, but she’s always so eager to learn more and add more things to her books she pushes past her awkwardness anyway.
Poor Valencia is terrible at fighting and quite a pushover, who did her best to stick to the periphery and hope nobody would notice her working quickly to sketch them into one of her many books. It wasn’t until she finally met a young man named Balthazar that she was really able to find a stable friend and companion.
Valencia found she had a strong affinity for the World of Olympus, dearly loving everything about it. Of all the Projected Worlds, Olympus was where she spent the most time and as soon as she was able she bought a set of Olympian Robes from the Moogle in Daybreak Town; but stuck to wearing her more familiar boots, pants, and other various accessories. She didn’t know what her true homeworld was supposed to be, but she hoped beyond hope it could be Olympus.
The events leading up to the Keyblade War were nearly as devastating to Valencia as the War itself, and during the war she was struck with what should have been a fatal blow and left for dead - but a very odd thing happened. An unusual Heartless appeared on the battlefield and whisked her away from the chaos, bringing her to Olympus and healing her before ultimately being destroyed.
Now living on the world of her dreams, Valencia eventually managed to put the traumas of her past behind her and start a family. Her now-powerless Keyblade and the name “Velcia” were both passed down through the generations, and each time one “Velcia” passed away the next-born daughter received the name and the heirloom Keyblade, and after some time that brings us to…
KHII-Era Velcia
Velcia Anthes, daughter of Hephestus and Ioanna Anthes, was raised in Thebes as a Potion-Maker and Alchemist by her father after her mother mysteriously vanished when she was two years old. Named after her Keyblade-Wielding Ancestor from her mother’s side, Velcia received the Heirloom Keyblade and grew up hearing stories of wielders from her grandmother and marveling at the tales.
Coming from a family of scholars on her father’s side, Velcia is keenly interested in learning everything she can about the fundamentals of both magic and potion-making; and her devotion to learning magic hit an all-time high after her father and cousin were killed by Vanitas during the events of KH:BBS.
After this, she was taken in by her aunt and uncle who helped her to stay strong and focus on her studies as they worked together to overcome the pain of losing their loved ones. Thanks in no small part to their support and the integrity of her father, Velcia is kind, graceful, and has every bit of the elegance that her KHx-era ancestor lacked; but most of all she is driven and determined to help anybody she can, especially if it means they can avoid the sorts of losses she dealt with growing up.
Thanks to time spent participating in events at the Coliseum when she was younger, Velcia combined her effective if rudimentary physical fighting skills with her growing array of spells to become a competent red mage who was very confident in her magic abilities. In her mid-twenties during the events of KHII, Velcia thought that her life as a potion-maker was perhaps all she would ever be.
One fateful day she meets a visitor from another world named Samantha, and almost the next thing Velcia realizes she’s being asked to come use her magical powers and knowledge to help Sam and Hinata chase down a dangerous Replica called Thaanix. This, it turns out, is only the start of her adventures…
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That’s about it for my introductions! I will include answers for both Velcias going forward for the rest of the week, but will likely have more information and pictures posted for the Modern-Era Velcia as I have more stories and art for her. Truth be told, the picture above is really the only proper picture of KHx-Era Velcia I have! Thank you for reading these little bits about my characters, I really hope you’ve enjoyed them.
Anyone who would like to read any of the stories I've written can find them either on my AO3, or on @hinataoc's Fanfiction.net page (which also has a plethora of other very good stories by her that you should check out). Archive of our Own Fanfiction.net
In addition, I have been in the middle of posting a new story about the Modern-Era Velcia called "Return to Eos", with a new chapter posted every weekend. I'm trying to post a little snippet of the chapters here on Tumblr as they go up, so if you are interested you can keep an eye out for those, too. Lastly, thanks very much to the @khoc-week crew (small as it may be this year) for hosting this event. :D
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Hello again, Ms. gender nerd anon here, re-sending my ask! Thanks for confirming it got lost!
I just wanted to say that I really appreciate your stance on misogyny in BG3 fandom (those “shipping Astarion with women is conversion therapy” takes are wild).
Gender dynamics in your fics are also a breath of fresh air because of how full of default heterosexual sado-masochism* and female submission in general f/m Astarion fics are (nothing wrong with being submissive, but the tendency itself is not above criticism imo). I absolutely love Rosalie’s wit, intelligence, agency, initiative, insecurities and vulnerability, she’s such a deep and well-rounded character. She’s a badass but not in a stereotypical “strong woman” type way which just acts “masculine”, e.g. fights, is assertive and sure of herself, etc. I think you’re doing a great job at portraying more egalitarian f/m relationship and sexuality.
I also remember you saying something like (I’m paraphrasing here) the problem you see with “I can fix him” trope is heterosexism that often accompanies it.
Considering all this I wonder if gender dynamics and using a feminist lens is something you consciously think about when writing Rosalie/Astarion and if yes, how do you approach that?
Thank you!
* https://preview.redd.it/6ak4wpp4zimc1.jpeg?width=577&auto=webp&s=933cf03cb5cc08346d3dff9bfc4a3266a0b68651&app_web_view=ios
PS I also read Howl’s Moving Castle recently and really felt something of Howl and Sophie in your fics, it’s lovely!
PPS English in not my first language so sorry for any awkward phrases/mistakes
hi anon, thank you for coming back with the long-awaited question (also there is no need to stress about the English used here, it's all very high level lmao so please don't apologise!)
I'm not interested in commenting/speaking ill on other fics or trends within Astarion fic so I'm only going to discuss this question in relation to my own writing. [Beyond once more reiterating that the popularity of m/m ships in fandom has its roots in racism and misogyny (a preference for white male characters above any female characters, especially those of colour when they are the canon interest), and the belief that 'gay' ships are inherently more virtuous has its roots in um. radfem ideology. and again, misogyny. Fair enough if you like what you like but please examine your biases and plz stop hating women and dressing it up as queer positivity.]
This ended up being very, very long, so it's under the cut lads! I did promise I could talk about gender in fiction all day long.
So first off, anon - people like what they like. There's nothing wrong with that - most of what I write, it's not done with any virtue signalling in mind, it's just that I'm writing what I like, as well. That is, I'm going to be honest, in large part my answer to your question.
In all honesty, I do not write my bg3 with an inherently feminist lens or mindset held in my brain at the time of drafting, beyond the fact that I'm a feminist in my own day-to-day life. If I was to attribute it to anything... I would actually be really basic, and just be frank: I really like women. I find women hot. I like a lot of female characters, more than I like male ones.
I'm really touched you think Rosalie is a well-rounded character, as she is intended to be written that way, but honestly? I just find her hot. I give her good lines and fun moments equal to Astarion's, bc she's v sexy to me. I like giving her hot things to do, and at a very basic level, it's for me, lmao. I made her well-rounded, bc I like her and I find her entire character aspirational and attractive. Fic is, often, just for pleasure. In the same way other people write what they find hot, I write what I find hot, and if you were to examine my fics and my bookmark history (Sophie/Howl is up there honestly, but Jareth/Sarah from Labyrinth is the biggest giveaway lmao) you would know that I just find this kind of dynamic.... where there's a villain and a heroine who breaks him.... or a woman who reads a man for filth... hot.
But if you want an answer that goes deeper and more theoretical, there are two things that I can give you!
I find it both reassuring and funny that you bring up both heterosexism and not making Rose 'masculine', bc Rosalie is consciously one of my most femme OCs. The pink/purple colour scheme is a dead giveaway. I think this was because, in Early Access, all of the femme companions are gnc in some way, which was fucking awesome, but that meant there was a gap in the market for my funky pink tiefling!
Most of the characters were also quite edgy - I've talked about the Early Access disapproval, and the way it felt like you were being bullied by the pixels inside your gaming PC, and how this informed my choice of OC. At the time, I was also playing in a D&D game full of edgelords, and was getting quite bored (mid-pandemic) with this entire belief that playing 'good', or being idealistic, is naive/dumb, or boring, or trite, or overdone. A lot of my writing is triggered by a spite reflex, so in Rose, I doubled down. I put a lot of tropes about femininity that get a lot of hate in fandom into Rosalie, bc these often overlap with the idea that being emotional or naïve is undesirable bc (you guessed it!) misogyny. It's better to be jaded and cynical, bc that's a traditionally masculine view of the world. This idea that being 'good' is stupid is fed by many things, but it is gendered, and making Rosalie a high femme woman was a conscious decision.
BUT in her character, I also had this secondary question - in a group where everyone is berating you for being kind, if you're a rabid people pleaser and traditionally feminine caregiver, why are you refusing to back down? How are we getting to the 'lawful' part of lawful good - which I interpret as having an inflexible moral code? And this was where I bought in the idea that someone is trying to make up for lost time, and created the device of her agoraphobia, and the tadpole as anxiety medication.
I think this is perhaps what makes her feel well-rounded, but also takes her from 'passively' feminine to 'actively' feminine - she's had all the traditional femme upbringing BUT she then has a tadpole hijacking all her AFAB socialisation, everything that's told her to not to take up space or back down or defer to other people.
I'm not going to lie, this is something I am struggling with at the moment: an awareness of being raised and socialised as a woman, and as an autistic woman who's masking practices are inherently tied up into the codes of femininity and the behaviour expected of her. I didn't realise this at the time of writing. But I guess Rosalie gets access to a confidence she didn't before, through a magic cure, and this is something that alters the dynamics of her character in a way that allows her to have a more active role. She doesn't feel the need to mask much anymore (see! this is why I find her HOT!!!)
..
The other gendered lens I will admit to bringing to the table with Rosalie, and consciously employing, is the traditional gendered dichotomy between emotion (femininity)/intellect (masculinity) that was held in the 1800s-1900s. This is because this theory used to fascinate me, I've read/studied a lot about the idea of gendered modes of reading books and understanding the world - for instance, there was a moral panic that's reflected in books like Northanger Abbey and Madame Bovary where it was feared women couldn't read literature properly, and that the lines between fiction and reality became blurred for them, because literature incites emotions and women are inherently more emotional beings. It was believed that they couldn't differentiate between the emotions fiction made them feel, and their real life. This persists till today, in a derogatory approach to female fandom, to immersed readers, and the media products that girls like (e.g. the Twilight books, and associated derision of its readership). In this dichotomy and belief system, women are overly emotional and thus stupid/idealistic, and the admirable way to be is critical, detached, intellectual - ie. everything the man making these rules thinks he is.
This DOES come into play with Rosalie, in a big way, but that's kind of BG3's fault. The whole idea of a mindflayer, is someone who is intellect without any emotion, and this makes them threatening, and powerful. I coupled that with a woman who sees her depression (and thus her emotion) as a weakness, and who is using illithid tadpoles as medication. I've talked a few time in asks, about how the bad ending for Rosalie would be her turning into the mindflayer for the good of the group, becoming that ideal of intellectual detachment that she thinks will be all everyone wants from her. It would be: The Bleeding Heart, versus The Exalted Mind. I sat on that decision screen, CRYING, for a really long time, bc I knew she would turn illithid in a heartbeat, for all the wrong reasons. To me, it felt like a new version of suicidal ideation had been given to my mess of a character. (Thank god for Astarion in this instance, honestly).
As a wizard, Rosalie is operating in that intellectual paradigm that critical thinking = good. Being cold and analytic = good. She is not that, until she has the tadpole: she never aspired to power, she feels in thrall to her own emotional state, she feels like her emotions make her weak and have actively disadvantaged her progress. So she is facing this battle between what she thinks she should be - intellectually confident, certain, calculated and cool - and what she thinks she is - emotionally messy, easily manipulated, sad and weak - without realising it's a fake mutually exclusive binary, and she can in fact be both. This is a journey I hope to take her on in An Honest Lie, and she's already undergone in Pieces (although, there's a bit more emotional repression in this timeline, if she was actually well-adjusted i think she would've fucked the Ascendent at least once lol).
What I did bring to the table was a extreme frustration at traditionally feminine-coded traits (moral idealism, goodness, empathy, over-emotional modes of being in the world) being constantly derided or treated as stupid. I also wanted to write a wizard who wasn't a pinnacle of intellect, but was struggling with that fact, and I made her high femme for a reason!
So... yeah! TLDR, I write women with personalities bc I like and am attracted to women - the same way a lot of male characters get attention or become the most fully fleshed, complex beings in existence, bc their writers like and are attracted to them. I do not write consciously feminist attacks on other people's dynamics, what I write is the dynamics I find incredibly sexy instead.
So I guess... my advice on how to approach things???
write what you find hot
give attention to the characters you find hot
if there are any dynamics you find interesting in theory, you can explore them!
I did make a conscious choice to subvert some tropes in Pieces, but this was mostly to avoid writing noncon bc it's not my thing, I didn't have any interesting in doing that to my OC, and also, i don't think I could write it well. So I guess the other thing you can do is, if there's a trope that frustrates you or you don't like the gendered politics of something, think of a new interesting way to write it or flip that dynamic (....like a Power Word Kill!)
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Get To Know Me!
Tagged by @justafoxhound
• Do you play an instrument?
Musical, no (I trained in singing though). The only "instrument" I regularly play is a game controller, lol
• Favourite book characters?
I love books as a whole so individual characters rarely stand out much for me. I related to the main character in Barbara Kingsolver's Bean Trees, and love the characters in Bleak House and many Jane Austen novels. The main characters in The Southern Reach Trilogy are iconic to me, and the characters in We Have Always Lived in the Castle spoke for me in many ways.
Book characters often feel like they are me, so having a favorite book character would be like having a favorite limb or internal organ. I love all of me, so I love all those characters. The only times where I've had "favorites" is when the books get adapted to TV/film and feel separate from me.
Got real deep there, but best way I could explain it.
• Favourite colour schemes?
Currently I'm a sucker (and i mean sucker) for that iridescent, anodized titanium look. I bought these in 2022 and I LOVE them:
This color scheme mixes well with the Miami Vice colors I am into atm. I'm also easily drawn in by the trendy emerald/black/gold look:
I have many opinions on interior design...
(PREV MENTIONED COCONUT ICE OMG I LOVE COCONUT ICE but i haven't had it since i was a kid and never knew what it was called and omg thank you i can finally make it or buy it myself with this knowledge *kisses you on both cheeks*)
• Naps or long sleep?
Long sleep! I am at peak performance in the 8–9hr range, but any excuse to sleep in longer is lovely. Naps rarely refresh me, and I miss parts of my day. To really know me in this respect is to know I am an irresponsible night owl who will stay up all night if I have no morning obligations.
• What languages do you speak?
English and paltry Spanish. I practiced Spanish more at my old job than I ever did for school or with Spanish-speaking family, but still am not fluent.
• Dreams/aspirations?
Move somewhere beautiful with someone wonderful and do good work there, but have a vacation home in another climate. Funny how dreams/aspirations change depending on your age/situation.
• Long hair or Short Hair?
Short, please. I've had long, heavy hair all my life and it gets into everything. I like having flippy hair though, so shoulder-length probably better describes my preference.
• Tea or coffee?
COFFEE. Have finally achieved "cup a joe in the morning" status because it's helpful for me.
• Bring a book character to life or go into a fictional world?
Go into a fictional world. Just to study it so I can portray it accurately in fanfic ;)
Tagging: okay, i forget who I follow for writing and who I follow for fandom, so this isn't easy to tag but I will at least tag @insanitysilver @jfictitional @kirarahu and @evelynmlewis
Literally anyone who wants to do this, you are officially tagged by me.
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Happy STS! How different are your characters now vs when you first created them? Is there anything you miss about their previous traits/personality?
Happy STS, and thank you for the question, Nopal! <3
I think I've mentioned in another post that the concept for Agent Ace came from an old fanfic I wrote, so the characters have been through quite the transformation! It's pretty fun looking back and seeing how much has changed.
Infodump below the cut, which may include minor spoilers. Also it's just a vomit of words, so read at your own risk XD
Sophia, then: The murder victim of the story! Her name was Ashley Cole, and she was already dead by the beginning of the story, so there was no opportunity to develop her as a character. She was still Harley's sister, but they were only 1-3 years apart (I don't remember how many at this point).
Sophia, now: One of the main protagonists whose POV we follow! This was completely unintentional all my part. When I adapted the story to original fiction, I wanted a legitimate detective character, but I still wanted her to have some sort of relation to Harley so the dual POVs weren't too disconnected. So they became sisters, and I killed someone else off to make it work for the story. Her new name, Sophia, came from an extraneous character I had scrapped (but the name still fit so I salvaged it), and for a long time, she was Sophia Cole. Her last name eventually changed to Colbo, which was the name of my student teacher in seventh grade who I had a little gay crush on.
It's also worth noting that Sophia and Harley were both white when I created them, but after a while, I started imagining them as biracial. Officially, they are Mexican (father's side) and Greek (mother's side).
Harley, then: The protagonist. In the original story, she was in her late twenties and I think she was a pizza delivery person? (my memory's a bit fuzzy on that one) But she was the police's prime suspect for the murder, the whole story was about her trying to clear her name by solving the mystery. Along the way, she uncovered secrets and became entangled in a new dangerous world. Her name has changed several times (she wasn't Harley until about a year ago), although her last name, Manalis, has stayed consistent. I got it from a name generator, but I'm a little unclear on whether or not it's a real name.
Harley, now: Still one of the protagonists, except now she's in college (ten years younger than Sophia) with an aspiration for robotics. She sort of split into two different characters when I rewrote the story, so a lot of Sophia's personality comes from her original character. I do miss the parts of her that had more worldly wisdom and experience, but she's still young, and I know she'll gain some as her story continues! Her affinity for robotics was also never really a thing until I made the switch into sci-fi, and that hobby change just made sense for her character.
Jade, then: Did not exist in any capacity!
Jade, now: Jade came to be when I realized that I hadn't given Harley any friends. She went through much of the story alone, and even the allies she'd made didn't stay with her at the end. I needed to give her one person she could truly rely on—one friend who could support her in her darkest hour.
And then, of course, I had that little voice inside of me asking, But what if they were gay? And since I'd already modeled Jade off of some of my closest friends and crushes at the time, the idea easily fell into place!
Max, then: A genius student who was enlightened about the supernatural and then targeted by the same people who killed Sophia's old character. He existed only in flashback perspectives, so he remained relatively static and didn't hold much weight in the grand scheme of the story.
Max, now: Not too much changed! His abduction still serves the plot, but he plays a much bigger role in the story. I made him a friend of Harley and Jade's, thus giving him a deeper connection, and took the opportunity to flesh him out. His personality ended up taking after mine, in a way. His anxiety and uncertainty was always present, but as I continued writing him, I discovered a sharper, sassier side of him that played into a strength I hadn't allowed him to have in the earliest draft.
Janus, then: The main antagonist and, funnily enough, Sophia's husband! He'd been manipulated into a twisted version of himself that led him to torture and kill—sort of like a possession/split personality. He was such a fun character to write, but as a person, he was absolutely vile. My readers hated him, and rightfully so!
Janus, now: He's still an antagonist, though he's much more morally gray. I really leaned into the dark humor, theatrics and charisma that made him so fun to write, and his softer, more protective personality manifested in Ahren, Sophia's new husband. He's still a bastard, and dangerous when he wants to be, but no longer sadistic. And like Sophia and Harley, he started out as white, but I rewrote him as half-Korean for Agent Ace.
Although he's no longer the Big Bad, he still has a big role to play through his existing connection to Sophia. But I dropped the idea that they were romantically involved as soon as Sophia became a major character. As a trope, enemies-to-lovers makes me really uncomfortable, and especially considering the power imbalance that already exists between them, that wasn't the relationship I wanted to write. Now they have more of a reluctant buddy-cop dynamic, which I think is much more entertaining!
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Aspirational: The Charm Offensive
I just finished The Charm Offensive by Alison Cochrun. I have thoughts...
Here there be spoilers!
I have a complicated relationship with Happily Ever After.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been in love with love. I watched Disney movies and read fairytales and dreamed about the day that someone (okay, let’s be honest, a boy) would look at me and see something desirable in me. I wanted to be someone worth choosing. Someone worth loving. And only being wanted and chosen and loved was going to satisfy that longing.
I think Dev Deshpande, one of the heroes of Alison Cochrun’s The Charm Offensive, can relate.
Dev discovered reality show Ever After (a thinly-veiled fictional version of The Bachelor) as a child. Like me, he fully fell into the fantasy. So much so that he actually made a career out of it, becoming a handler for ‘the talent’ on the very show that he so adores. But there’s one little problem: reality tv isn’t actually interested in helping people find love. “We aren’t here to help people find happily ever after,” cautions one producer. “We’re here to help...make interesting television.” Dev insists that “there’s nothing more interesting than love.” And he’ll champion the worthiness of Ever After’s mission to anyone who will listen. What he doesn’t understand is that all that glitters is not gold...and you can’t see clearly with glitter in your eyes.
But who can blame him? We are primed from day one to aspire to one kind of love: one person--generally someone of the opposite, binary gender--forever and always happy and perfect. Our one-and-done one-size-fits-all romantic match. An experience that is somehow both rare and beautiful and fundamental and natural.
What the fuck are we supposed to do with all that?
And what happens when this vision of what Happily Ever After is supposed to look like clashes with what we actually need?
Enter Charlie Winshaw.
He’s never aspired to romance. He never thought it was possible. Both because he doesn’t usually feel the impulse to want someone else in that way, and because even if he did his neurodivergence (OCD/Anxiety) would drown it out. So agreeing to be Ever After’s Prince Charming of the new season is nothing more than a front. A publicity stunt to trick people into believing he’s worthy and likable. After all, the idea that someone could actually fall in forever love in a matter of weeks is a fantasy...
Right?
What Charlie and Dev both have to figure out is that the supposedly aspirational version of love isn’t always the one to which we should aspire.
Charlie never thought he could be a queer person. But as he dates a bevy of beautiful women on camera...and ‘practice’ dates Dev off-camera...he starts to seriously examine who he is and what he wants. “You’re allowed to want the romance parts without the sex parts. Or the sex parts without the romance parts. All of those feelings are valid. You’re deserving of a relationship in whatever form you want it,” assures his friend, Parisa. And once Charlie stops worrying about what he ‘can’ want or what he ‘should’ want, he can get to the part where he figures out what he actually wants. He knows that he’s “kissing Dev, I’m not in my head about it. I don’t feel the pressure to make it work. It just works. And I don’t have to force myself to feel anything. I feel everything.” And he finally lets go enough to decide that he doesn’t want a label. “I feel like I’ve been shoved into different boxes with different labels my whole life. I don’t know if I want more boxes.” In the end, Charlie stops settling for a life that he can live with and aspires for more--the kind of love that brings happiness for being unconditional even if it isn’t easy.
Interestingly, for someone purportedly enamored with True Love, Dev has the hardest time accepting the love Charlie has to offer. Not because it’s wrong, but because it doesn’t fit this effortlessly perfect model that Dev’s been conditioned to seek. Even though Dev longs to be seen for all his many shades, the only one he allows to be loved is the one he calls ‘Fun Dev’: always positive, always funny, always making everyone else’s life easier. When Charlie tries to get closer to what’s real, Dev pushes him away. What Dev ultimately needs is a reality check: it’s not wrong to want a happily ever after. But instead of aspiring to recreate an ideal, we should be looking inward to seriously ask what we need to be our best selves in a partnership.
In the end, happily ever after isn’t a stick we have to measure ourselves against, a prize to win, or a treasure to find. Something to aspire to doesn’t have to be something Aspirational. Our best selves, our best partnerships, and our version of happiness is “something you choose to do for yourself.” It requires emotional honesty and vulnerability. Not everyone has to want the hetero-allo-cis-white-picket-fence life. If you don’t, then why waste time trying to force yourself into a shape you were never meant to fit?
I wish I could take back the time I wasted. But who knows if I would have even had the wherewithal to be honest? To resist the pressure and swim upstream to the place I was meant to go?
It takes work, but I urge you to choose for yourself. Don’t wait a second longer to reach for your crown--whatever shape it takes.
And if you don’t know what yours is yet?
Well, it’s never too late to start your journey and find out.
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Discussing your desire can be embarrassing. Exposing your ambitious passion can often times make you feel as if you’ve mutated into cringe incarnate. The dream that accompanies every waking thought - which essentially dominates your brain to the point where it’s difficult to talk about anything other than your creative goals - is the same concept you suppress from casual conversation. If these fantasies and lofty career aspirations make up such large portions of our gray matter (and can even feel physically beyond, seemingly flowing within our whole body’s bloodstream), then why is it sometimes awkward to publicly display?
The reason for me (most of the time) is to not sound pretentious. Who am I to boast of any ideas? Have I sold a bajillion copies of anything? Compare and despair plays a big part in my hesitancy to share my deepest daydreams of making it big as an author. I don’t want to sound like the middle-aged dude in a go-nowhere band, or the man-child all-day gamer. Even writing that makes me feel like I should apologize and that I don’t have anything against late-in-life goals or hobbies. Heck, I fit the bill when it comes to both, though I’m not much of a gamer, and a lot of my extracurricular activities are brainless time-wasters. A large chunk of my hobbies, though, are ultimately contributing to an even huger target. Still, the creative pursuit can at least look like a frivolous endeavor that friends and family humor. Writing fiction is, of course, a passion of mine, but it’s also a frustrating one when there isn’t much in the way of instant gratifications.
A lot of the time I resist the urge to indulge in my author-related projects unless the topic of conversation is initiated by someone else. Despite having a legitimately intrigued audience, I will still attempt to limit the info-dump I’m avalanching upon the well-meaning yet unsuspecting person. The self-censor is partially out of politeness but mainly for myself to not sound like an utter weirdo. Recently, however, I had the gift of a certain kind of freedom - a liberating moment where I could fully immerse myself in inspiration.
This flow of exciting ideas was a silent, internalized experience - and brief - but it was a welcome release of fretting over any outward appearances. No, there wasn’t an opportunity to shout these story ideas from the rooftops, but my mind’s unraveling of characters and their fantastical actions didn’t need to be anything other than an interior wandering. Normally, taking a trip into my “mind palace” would be reserved for spare moments throughout the day or perhaps a random idea would manifest itself within my brain and I’d follow for however long I could before resuming whatever daily work or routine I’d be doing at the time. This particular instance from only a few days ago at the time of this writing occurred at a time where it was appropriate and okay to mentally lose myself in a sequence of scenes for a piece of fiction I’ve been developing. My muse in this case was none other than the ocean.
Beach vacations are known for the relaxing times of peaceful meandering and/or serene introspection. My recent trip provided these things, sure, but like with many excursions, there are planning elements, as well as the stress of navigating through a different environment. My sandy getaway may not have offered as many thought-clearing states as I may have liked, but the idyllic moments the vacay did offer were priceless gifts.
I stood knee-deep in cool seawater, enjoying the mercifully mild weather, and permitting myself to know that at that very moment, my situation was a safe and acceptable one. I had achieved the stress-free comfort that soothing shorelines are capable of giving. It was during a time where few others occupied the beach, so the atmosphere was even more freeing. Even the stronger waves’ crashing carried dulcet tones, and the soft breezes blew around my body, reminding me of how wonderfully insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things - while simultaneously assuring the importance of me and everyone and everything else. It’s a good place to be.
The moment evaporated as it reached what was apparently its natural conclusion, but I was gifted the time of mental exploration. Undisturbed yet swirling with activity like the ocean itself, I allowed for some unadulterated imagining. I believe what made this experience more noteworthy than any other time I happen to think of soothing that would be cool to throw into a story is that this was fully acknowledged and embraced. At the risk of coming off as strange or humiliating myself with “gee whiz” naïveté, I am publicly posting this blog that may or may not get read. Cringe or no cringe.
Stay in the loop for more details by following Jonfiction Blog on Substack and be sure to check out jonmcbrine.com for more info about this and all my books.
Unsecret Identity: Eric Icarus - Book One is available now from the Amazon Kindle store.
https://a.co/2XAtxvH
New blog every Monday. Newsletter first Monday of every month.
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Nah, I don't think he needs to be defended. After all, fictional characters are not everyone's cup of tea.
But then, if you wonder why is he sweeping here, maybe you should also ask the people who keep him pretty much always top 5 in the official Naruto polls throughout the years.
In my case, I started watching Naruto waay after the show first aired. The impression I got from Kakashi at that time was of him being a savage moody dude who gave zero fucks and also was sarcastic, plus, that spiky hair gave me punk vibes.
But he's the kind of character that you start liking once you realize he's kinda relatable, especially when you grow up and become a victim of the system. (x)
"But he's always wearing a mask." Well, he has to because he's a ninja and that's what ninjas actually did to keep their identity hidden at all costs? Honestly idk how other characters in the story managed to survive and avoid being a target wearing those bright colors in the middle of the forest while their faces can be recognized in plain sight, lol.
Speaking of ninja stuff, the man is well known for being a skilled tactician able to hold a one-on-one combat while just using a damn kunai, that shit is insane.
The dude ain't a nobody.. in the manga/anime you often see Kakashi being acknowledged through the five lands, even by his adversaries (He's basically Mr. Worldwide) The mask is not the only thing that makes him mysterious (eventually we get to see his face) but also his backstory, which turns out to be a tragic one and that's where you realize why he behaves the way he does.
He was the gifted arrogant kid who ended up being a burnout with unhealthy coping mechanisms after losing his family, accidentally killing his friend (an event that gave him ptsd and permanent nightmares), losing his other teammate during the war while still being a kid and whose last will was to give him his eye (that red eye with powers) since kakashi was badly injured after trying to protect him.
Then he becomes this lethal killing "Machine" with no feelings who avoided any kind of human interaction cause he felt kinda cursed and only wanted to die, but that wish wasn't granted (yet) and he ends up becoming a teacher, which wasn't actually his thing but he tried to do his best. Funny thing, his students (lovingly called gremlins by some fans) are no ordinary kids since two of them are reincarnations of overpowered ancient aliens and he has to make sure these kids don't get killed or, in fact, end up killing each other. All this while he's still fighting his own inner demons, existencial crisis and depression.
If u wanna talk about just looks, sure there are silver/white haired characters with more elaborated designs, but the fact that the guy can show emotions with just one eye is just 👌🏻😆
Then u have the "rolled up sleeves and skull t-shirt"
the slutty fingerless gloves and sitting like a whore thingy..
His inner sailor scout dramatically showing during battle:
Not to mention his favorite way of attacking opponents:
Men in a uniform with a scar in one eye and also a tattoo might be a cliché but it never fails. He could have been given the 'Mappa treatment' like Gojo and show up like this:
But I like my man looking deranged
There's nothing like preferring comfy clothes after a long day of work and we know that
Kakashi could be your sugar daddy since he's actually a millionaire. The man went through all military/ninja ranks and did lots of missions which obviously they get well paid for. However, he's not the kind of greedy guy with lust for power, he actually kinda likes to avoid responsibilities (he never aspired to become hokage/president, he just accepted because of Naruto and Obito and, while being at that position, he made considerable changes that benefited the people and improved the village) In fact, he keeps things simple as he doesn't like to be adressed with honorary titles.
There's also part of the Naruto fandom who accuse Kakashi of being a "bootlicker" but that's not the case since he also stood up for what he considered was right and never sided with corrupted characters like Danzou, the council and others, which made him a trust-worthy person who actually listened to those around him. Of course, he's not perfect and we can see his flaws and mistakes and that's why he's also considered one of Naruto's best written characters. As for the wet dog thing... It's mostly fanon pov just like the little meow meow term, but he has dogs and he cares for them (look at their tiny cute clothes, lol.)
Also that misconception of the character being a hopeless mess... He's disciplined and organized, and also a good cook.
Bonus: It is canon that Kakashi is packin' 🍆
He didn't have a canon partner or relationship, which gives fans the opportunity to play and write/draw him as aro or even ace.
He can also be straight, gay, bi, or poly depending on the mood of the show 😆:
Or maybe he just retired and married Gai:
But he ain't a perv like some people in the notes are saying.. Kakashi definitely knows about consent:
He reads a book of which we never get to know the full content, but it is assumed to be smut, perhaps fluffy stuff with a touch of kinky, who knows. And thank God NO ONE here in tumblr likes reading such thing or even any other kind of fanfiction.
The scene of him being given spoilers by his students during the test is just to show that goofy silly side of him as he can also be sometimes a troll, a prankster, a smooth talker or a badass who ain't fucking around.
He goes out in public with the book, but never reads or shows the content to his students or kids, which is the equivalent of listening to 18+ asmr with headphones in the bus or reading ao3 in a cafe silently on your own.
Who wouldn't want to escape reality through books after being crucified, stayed in coma, die and come back to life, also see your long lost childhood dead friend come back to life and then have a panick attack about it and trying not to lose your sanity and stay positive?
He just wants to take some rest, leave him alone.
He's for many the og, meme material, first anime crush, relatable character, minecraft character design inspo, he's, he's..
Okay, Naruto fans. Please explain how the one character that keeps sweeping in your polls has pathetic wet dog energy, and I'm talking about Kakashi. Now, I must confess the only episode of Naruto I watched was Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura trying to steal bells from Kakashi. They managed to steal the bells only because Naruto stole his book and read the last few pages, which it was heavily insinuated that the book was erotica and spoiled the ending for Kakashi, and he had a full-on meltdown. So again, pathetic wet dog energy. Is it the mask, and you guys find him all mysterious or something? Or is he actually competent at his job, and I just got a bad episode? I would like to know because he's on the same level as Gojo with me. It's just like a generic anime white-haired dude. So, I would genuinely like to understand why you guys love him so much
Defend Your Blurbo #5
Please remember this post is about curiosity and genuine fandom discourse. Be kind with your answers because this is not a debate essay, this is a discussion between fans.
Most of you should at least have some idea who Kakashi is. I know there are many opinions about my various photo choices because I've gone through several. After all, people keep sending me different ones.
But I think the anon is forgetting about the scar and the red Sharingan eye which I think a lot of people find attractive
So, Naruto fandom defend your blorbo
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Hello, *world! (re: *tumblr)
no, the title does not make sense. fitting for my first post. this is gonna be a long one, so fasten your seatbelts honeys and allow me to take you on the thrilling ride through my various inner turmoils and tragically unrealistic aspirations!
I hate myself. with my heart, soul, and mind, I hate every fiber of my being. logically, I know I’m probably not that bad (maybe), but logic doesn’t mean shit to my stupid brain. I don’t like hating myself. I find it makes it much harder to be happy and I do enjoy being happy. sometimes. actually, I think when I’m feeling “happy”, I’m really just feeling empty and stale. wowza, that flipped around fast. I hate being happy. I hate not being happy. I hate being alive. I hate wishing I was dead. I hate talking to people and I hate being lonely. I hate everyone and I hate that they hate me. I hate myself. yay~
I have this really weird self esteem thing where I overthink everything relating to my mental abilities. I hate hate hate the part of me that seems to have this stupid elitist complex based on my intelligence. I’m sorry, I should stop talking about hating things. what I mean to say is there’s a part of me that only cares about getting smarter and having everyone know I’m smarter than them. I feel absolutely amazing when someone praises my intelligence and like complete shit when I’m wrong about something.
if you’ve read those last two paragraphs, you now know that I (not saying it) myself and my sense of self worth depends entirely on my own perception of my intelligence. now that you’ve got the basic rundown of my inner turmoils, let’s get into the tragically unrealistic aspirations.
I’m an artist. I’d like to consider myself as such. to be an artist, one must create art. I don’t really do too much of that. I’m not really an artist. I draw, sure, but I’m not very good at it. and everything I write is shit. take this text post for example. it’s got no flow, no rhythm. I don’t know what that means. are texts such as this supposed to have a “flow”? I think I’m incapable of gauging the quality of my work. I’m incapable of defining anything related to me. I don’t know what I look like. my physical features are always shifting. sorry, that’s more turmoil, isn’t it? let me (try to) tell you about my dreams.
I want to create a world. a universe. not a D&D fantasy map the size of Manhattan, I want it to put those little wimp dicks to shame. big, sexy, and full of endless niche crevices to get lost in. I want to write a big-ass 12 book series following a beautifully layered character aged 12-24. I want to make comics, cartoons, movies, video games, all that shit in this one uni(multi?)verse. I want people to fall in love with it and make their own head canons that I can (legally) declare canon. wouldn’t it be cool as hell if other people actually liked what I made so much that they made fanart or wrote fanfiction for it? I would die. I would actually just pass away over the motherfucking rainbow if anyone ever did something like that for a thing I made.
that was a lot less depressing than the last few text blocks. I promise I’m not that miserable most of the time. just when I’m venting into the unforgiving void.
let me tell you something fun—
humans create what they consume. read fiction? get ready to be gripped with the urge to write fan fiction, or worse, your own books. watch cartoons? get ready to find pencils forcing themselves into your shaking fist, yearning to make sweet, sweet, love to your paper and make beautiful fan art babies. if you consume media, you’re a hell of a lot more likely to become interested in the creation of that media, and eventually in creating similar media yourself. which is good; because it’s a lot easier to have fun making something when you have references.
I’m not so interested in books, cartoons, video games, and stuff. I think it’s because I have moderate to severe depression and instead of being gripped with the urge to write fanfiction, I’m usually just gripped with the urge to kill myself. I’m very interested in being part of several fandoms and essentially having a gargantuan online family. I vibe heavily with that idea. I know that I can enjoy consuming that sort of media, because I’ve done it before. I remember some years ago when I wasn’t so mentally ill; I remember devouring books and rotting my brain with cartoons like they were cocaine. I remember the crazy strong rushes of serotonin I got from rereading the same sentence for the third time just so I could fully appreciate it. I remember how I could get addicted to a show and the anticipation I felt during the seconds between hitting play and the intro. I know I can feel that way again because others can feel so strong they write millions of words out of love for it, spend hours on drawings and cosplays to share with their online family just because they love those stories that much. I want to feel that way. I want to feel like I can create out of love.
that’s probably one of the reasons I want to make that big, sexy world. I want to make others feel that way. I keep talking about this feeling like it’s so abstract. there’s probably a word for it. I hope there’s a word for it.
have you formed any opinions on me yet? are they good? I hope they’re good. I happen to be very self conscious of what others think of me. If I’d want you to feel anything about me, I’d want it to be a sense of kinship. I find that’s a very nice feeling to have. especially for a complete stranger. well, I suppose we’re not much of strangers now that you know some bit of my deepest heartaches and wildest dreams.
would you like my name now? I’m gonna give it to you anyway.
hello. please, call me Pan. I hope we can be friends.
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au cours de l’été - jjh
⤑ translation: over the summer
⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.
⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader
⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)
⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au
⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)
⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas
⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!
the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!
⤑ masterlist
⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!
3 juin 1957
The city life overstimulated your entire system, losing your brainpower and inspiration. Another exhibition that’ll feature your works with other influential painters was happening at the end of the year, and you had nothing prepared so far. You’ve crashed to the deep end of creative fatigue.
So you needed to get away again; somewhere quieter and surrounded by nature.
That’s why you ended up in the countryside down south, somewhere within Provence. It’s purely just for the summer, but extensions were okay as long you get back at least a month before the show. Filing that leave of absence at the studio you worked at was worth it.
You rented an apartment overlooking the marketplace, where the heart of the village was. After arranging things from your boxes and luggage the entire day, you found out that you lacked in the food department.
So the succeeding day, the entire morning was spent on grocery shopping downstairs then stocking them inside your refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. Right after changing out of your pajamas into a flowy floral dress and sandals, you decided to bike to the bakery that locals suggested. A must-go place for newcomers, they all raved.
“Café des Étoiles Perdues.” (Café of Lost Stars.)
The clear chimes of the bell resounded through the small, cottage-like lobby as you entered inside. An old woman, whom you assumed was the owner, welcomed you openly.
“Oh la la, vous êtes belle! Vous vous appelez (Y/N), la nouvelle venue, n'est-ce pas?” (Oh la la, you’re beautiful. Your name is (Y/N), the newcomer, right?)
She complimented, making you shyly mutter your answer. Wiping off the flour from her apron, she introduced herself kindly.
“Je m’appelle Camille. Mes spécialités sont les macarons pisctaches et des croissants avec des amandes. Autre chose que tu aimes?” (I’m Camille. My specialties are the pistachio macarons and croissants with almonds. Is there anything else you like?)
“J'aime tout ce que vous suggères, Madame.” (I’d like anything that you suggest, Madame.)
A younger man, who went by Jaemin, was a part-timer barista who asked for your coffee order. As he directed you to the best seat of the café, which was outside overlooking the garden of blooming sunflowers, you pulled out your sketch pad so you could capture this dreamy view. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen in your life.
You’ve decided on a theme already for your exhibit thanks to your conversations with locals yesterday, which was related to freedom. After being chained to cities for so-called better living and financial standards, it’s actually how your inspiration to create squeezed the life out of you like a lemon. Although it was fun at first to see those tourist spots, it eventually got tiring.
Another matchstick to graze intensity through your bones was what you prayed for.
While you’re engaged in a rough sketch of the scenery, the dandy presence of a young man entered the café with his books. White shirt, red trousers with a matching beret, he sported freckles on his pale face. Despite visiting his favorite café numerously, Camille was overjoyed to see him and his serene smiles.
“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”
“Bonjour, Madame! I’m starving for your croissants because I ran out back home.”
“Not to worry! I’ll pack up some so you’re on your way.” She lightened him up like one of her kids, taking one of the bigger paper bags.
“No rush though, Madame. I’ll be reading and working here for a bit here.” Jaehyun affirmed, bringing it out his wallet and called out for Jaemin.
“Un café crème, s’il vous plait.” (One cup of cappuccino, please.)
Jaehyun’s usual chair was by the large window, overseeing the wide garden planted by the citizens of the village way before he was born. It was places like this he missed after moving to the city for his education and work’s sake.
That’s the thing when you’re coming from a rich family; you don’t have much of say with what your parents order you to do. However, his recent request to stay in his childhood home (or mansion) again was fulfilled because he couldn’t search for what he needed in the cities anymore.
Jaehyun was a sucker for romance; an old romantic others would say. A lot of women mistook his kindness as flirting on many occasions, but ironically he just wasn’t looking for anyone yet.
Starting as a novelist in the said genre based on real-life stories of people he met in Paris, Barcelona, London, and more, his stories were popular hits especially to young adults who aspire to find love one day.
However, traveling to the known places no longer felt fun as he got older. The stories he gathered were very similar, just in different languages. It took an enthusiastic dinner with his family, specifically his only older sister Krystal retelling fond stories from their younger years to get the idea of moving back for a bit. So consumed with the city life, he wanted to see things from another perspective.
What was the difference between a love story formed in the countryside than in the city?
It’s been a month since he arrived, but he didn’t hurry himself to do his research. He’s been reading books in his family library, revisiting monumental places, exploring around the village, and reconnecting with old friends as if he never left.
Readjusting to his former life would make writing easier when he’s motivated enough to do it again. Besides, his books were profiting well enough to his taste; good enough for the next 10 years according to his personal accountant, Kim Jungwoo.
Jaehyun resumed reading this book his mother recommended him before he left. Entitled “Réessaye”, which was about a young man who reunites with his childhood sweetheart after his arranged marriage failed. After what she put her through, he’s hesitant whether to try again or let her go.
Jaehyun enjoyed reading books with realistic outlooks on love because he found them more meaningful, enlightening how exactly it makes you feel and do. Even if he enjoyed reading sappy, fairytale-like stories from time to time, he always returned to the real ones as they only displayed the truth.
That love isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but something that can also break you especially if you go after the wrong person. This kind of mindset was how he toiled on his stories, which gained him a status outside of his unavoidable labels such as “the only striking son of the Jeong family” or “Valentine Boy”.
He diligently browsed through the climax, where the main male character confessed all his constrained emotions to his sweetheart. But it was until Jaemin pressed the bag of croissants in front of his face after placing down his childhood friend’s drink to disturb his peace.
“Reading again?” He taunted, snatching his book away and throwing the bag on Jaehyun’s lap. “When are you writing that book already? Everyone is practically dying for you to release something new again!”
Jaehyun flatly shook his head, drinking his coffee quietly. It’s not the first time anyone asked (or pressured) him about his next release, and it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “Not in the mood right now, Jaemin. Now off to work before Madame Camille scolds you again.”
“You’re just stalling because you have nothing to write, don’t you?” Jaemin cunningly expressed, raising a brow. He’s known to catch onto the people’s bs easily; the last person you’d want to say your secrets too and Jaehyun realized too late. Though lucky for him, Jaemin shut the topic down right away so he wouldn’t pop a vein.
“Sais-tu de la nouvelle venue dans le village, d'ailleurs?” (Do you know about the newcomer in the village, by the way?)
“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)
Being stuck at his mansion recently, news about village affairs were now late to him. Jaemin’s finger discreetly pointed outside the window, pertaining to a young woman sat outside painting her view in front of her.
That would be you, shading all the flowers in bright colors.
Seeing a new face amazed Jaehyun, especially when she was almost someone right out of a book. In a neat bun with white daisies printed in her dress, she crossed her legs whilst continuing her movements. She bit her lower lip, frustrated over an accidental smudge she made and trying to fix it by blending it with another color. When she accomplished it, she swapped brushes. A thinner one, to outline the shapes of the flower. Her lips curved to a smile after finishing another one perfectly with the rest.
“Jaehyun?”
Jaemin snapped his fingers to his distracted friend, zoning out the window. Still something he hasn’t stop doing, he pondered. With a final snap, Jaehyun broke away from falling hard from his abstract. Jaemin calculated the problem so quickly, analyzing his friend breezily like his medical school requirements.
“Elle est splendide, n'est-ce pas?” (She’s gorgeous, right?)
“Elle ressemble à une personne décente.” (She looks like a decent person.)
Jaehyun pushed it aside, flipping back to the page where he stopped reading. Before Jaemin responded, the door chimed open again to alarm him that a new customer came in. He excused himself to his friend, warning him that this wasn’t the last time he’ll talk about the newcomer too.
Jaehyun nodded along, not taking his friend’s cheeky words so seriously. However, the final result you attempted to create tickled his curiosity, so he slyly peeked from his book to the window.
You’ve freed your hair down, victorious to have started your collection this early in your break. A fantastic start, you let the paint dry first and munch on the croissant that served as your reward. However, you ‘re quick to notice a manly figure glancing through the window. From the side, his brown eyes appeared lively even if his entire face was hidden by the book.
Réessaye by Mark Lee; he must be a romantic. Every person in your studio read it, excluding yourself. Painfully beautiful, they’d summarize it.
Daring to meet more people, you locked eye contact with him. He didn’t expect it, almost flipping from his chair. Bashfully, you waved him a hello to somewhat break the ice. However, it broke his composure, and suddenly, he scurried off with his things from the café.
Now, you got quite worried. You checked your tiny mirror if he saw anything unpleasant with you, but you’d say you look relatively fine. Oh, maybe you could redeem yourself the next time you saw him. After bidding goodbye to Camille and Jaemin, the latter chased after you when you prepared yourself on your bike.
“By any chance, did you say hi to a guy with brown eyes and a red beret?”
“Well, more like I waved at him, then he zoomed out. Did I do something wrong?” You questioned with concern, putting your hands on the handles.
“That’s my friend, who’s quite reserved with strangers. I’m sorry on his behalf.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” You brushed it off politely. “See you again soon, Jaemin!”
Peddling away, letting the cool breeze fan you, your mind reverted its thoughts to that strange man. Maybe you’ll give it some time; you had a lot of it.
“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”
12 juin 1957
The world must really be on your side with these good decisions because you crossed paths with the strange man again in the café a week later. But instead of running away, he asked nicely if he could sit across your free chair in front of your table outside. It was a Saturday, and the place was packed.
“Joignez-moi, s’il vous plait.” (Join me, please.)
You insisted, giving yourself time to subtly observe his physique a lot more. Freckles dotted under his eyes like a constellation, bushy eyebrows, pink cheeks to match his pale complexion, and wearing a fuzzy knit sweater that meshed well with his green beret. He had some sort of necklace too; there was a heart pendant.
“Vous êtes une artiste.” (You’re an artist.) The small wooden palette of paint beside your small sketch pad was exposed, finding it as a great icebreaker.
“Une peintre, spécifiquement. Franchement, les visuels ici sont trés captivants qu'à Paris.” (A painter, to be specific. Frankly, the visuals here are more captivating than in Paris.)
“Je suis d’accord,” (I agree,) Jaehyun leaned against his chair, taking a better look at you with the remaining light from the descending sun.
“Oh, vous êtes comme moi. J’habite à Paris aussi.” (Oh, you’re like me. I live in Paris too.)
“Bon, je suis née à Londres. Puis, j’ai déménagé où je voulais en Europe depuis j'avais 18 ans. Mais oui, j’habite définitivement à Paris maintenant.” (Well, I was born in London then moved wherever I wanted in Europe for inspiration since I was 18. But yes, I live permanently in Paris now.)
You clarified, beginning to enjoy his comforting company. Initiating conversations with people you’re not acquainted with wasn’t in your range of skills, though he didn’t have an intimidating vibe. He looked too youthful to act like that.
“Je m’appelle (Y/N), d'ailleurs.” (I’m (Y/N), by the way.) You stuck out your hand as a sign of respect, which he enthusiastically obliged.
“Salut, (Y/N). Je m’appelle Jaehyun.” [Hi, (Y/N). I’m Jaehyun.]
He kissed it in a gentleman fashion, applying the manners he’s been taught since he was a child. Should you have been flustered, but no. It’s been a long time since anyone greeted you like that, specifically back home.
Throughout your talk, you learned more about who he was, his job, and what his life in the countryside is like. He was an author of romance novels, yet you’ve never heard about him prior. Heavily prioritizing your work, you don’t keep up with the new releases or trends at all. Though after mentioning his last name, it piqued your interest.
“Jeong? As in the business, Jeong Tea Inc.?”
“Correct.”
His family was one of the most affluent families in Parisian society. Old money immigrants from South Korea, they brought their tea business to France and it boomed successfully. You’re quite sure you’ve seen his parents in past exhibits, but never did you approach them because you were a rookie then. But he reassured you that it was fine, and to just treat him like you’d treat your friends. Plus, it came to your knowledge that he was the same age as you too.
He opened up how this village was where he lived his childhood, so he asked his parents if he could hand over their mansion for a while for rest. It then shocked both of you at how identical your reasons were for staying in the countryside.
“I’m burnt out from the city, so I’m trying to regain my spirit here hopefully. Besides, I needed a change of scenery after living there for 3 years. My longest stay yet outside of London!”
“I need new ideas for my books. The cities don’t charm me anymore, so I returned here for peace and quiet. Maybe let these ideas come to me rather than me going after them.”
From a bigger lens, people would conclude your interaction as a sight of two artists who passionately talk about their art. But to you, you’d interpret it as two relaxed, young adults in their twenties who simply wanted to run away from the pressures of their art and enjoy the summer as every young adult should.
Not cooped up in the studio or office, but innocently waltzing around with your youth while it’s still there.
début de juillet 1957
“Dépêche-toi, (Y/N)!” [Hurry up, (Y/N)!]
Jaehyun yelled at your open balcony from downstairs, parking his mini car beside your bike. He planned on taking you somewhere a little farther this time; to absolutely feel like one of the locals.
The countryside urged you to wear more dresses and flat shoes, so you took out a turquoise dress with a white scarf to wrap on top of your head. Like your relaxed fit, your mindset too was calm. Upon meeting him, he wore his round spectacles with a red knit sweater over a white turtleneck long-sleeved top. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, then around his neck was a thin black ribbon. He curled some of his hair again, a style you really liked of his.
You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.
Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.
Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.
All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.
“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)
He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.
“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)
“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)
He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.
Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.
Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.
“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”
“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”
“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”
Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.
“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”
Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.
You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.
Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.
Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.
As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.
He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.
“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”
Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.
That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.
He’s infatuated by you.
“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.
“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]
He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!
The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.
The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.
“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]
“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)
“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)
With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.
“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.
Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)
“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)
Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.
Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.
“En voyant notre mine ravie,”
Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.
“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”
Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.
“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”
It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.
This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.
“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”
À la mi-juillet de 1957
“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.
Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.
He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.
“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”
He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.
“What are you doing?”
“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”
His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.
Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.
If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.
It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.
“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”
Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.
Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.
Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.
“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)
Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.
“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)
Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.
None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.
Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.
Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.
“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”
“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”
His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.
“Call me that again, please.”
“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.
“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)
Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.
This time, it’s different.
When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.
It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.
Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.
Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.
Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.
All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.
You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.
The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.
“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.
“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”
“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”
“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?
He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.
“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”
Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.
“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”
Fin de juillet 1957
So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.
Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.
Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.
In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.
There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.
The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.
Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.
“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”
“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”
His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.
Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.
Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.
“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.
“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,
“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)
You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.
“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.
Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.
Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.
“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”
“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”
The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.
Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.
“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”
The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.
On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.
He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.
“Keep them on when you ride me.”
Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.
Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.
“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.
“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.
Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.
His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.
Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.
From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.
“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”
16 octobre 1957
Autumn made its way to the countryside.
The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.
Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.
“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.
“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.
“Still breathtaking.”
But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.
All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.
The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.
“Write to me.”
“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”
Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.
Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.
You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.
Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.
Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.
“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”
The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.
Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.
Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.
Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.
Now, what was he up to?
You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”
Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.
“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]
You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.
“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)
21 octobre 1957
Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.
“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.
“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.
“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”
For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.
“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.
Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.
“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”
“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”
Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.
“Get to the point please!” You screeched.
“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”
“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.
“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”
“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”
They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.
“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”
Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.
Could the next summer come any faster?
14 février 1958
Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.
Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.
A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.
Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.
Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.
But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.
There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.
Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.
Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.
Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.
Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.
“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”
Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”
The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.
Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.
“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”
“I beg your pardon?”
With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”
“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.
“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”
Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.
“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.” Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.
They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.
“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”
“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”
The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.
“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”
“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.
“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”
Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.
Your fairytale.
“Jaehyun.”
It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.
The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.
“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.
“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)
He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.
Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.
Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.
“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.
Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?
“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”
“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”
Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.
“He spoke about me to you?”
“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”
As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”
“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”
Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.
You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.
“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”
He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.
When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.
In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.
“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”
“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”
You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,
“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”
“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”
“Is he your favorite muse?”
“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."
You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.
“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)
“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)
Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.
“So tell me about your new book.”
“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”
The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.
“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)
Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.
“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)
Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.
“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.
“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”
A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.
“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.
“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”
You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.
Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.
Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.
As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.
“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.
“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.
“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”
Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”
“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”
Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.
How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?
What really went down in Provence?
“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.
Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.
Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.
“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”
“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.
You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”
Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”
You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.
“Deal.”
6 ans plus tard (1964)
Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.
Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.
Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.
“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.
“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.
His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.
“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.
“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.
“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)
Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.
Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.
On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.
Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.
He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.
Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?
It no longer did after getting married.
It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.
“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.
Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”
In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.
One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.
“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.
“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.
“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)
You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.
Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.
In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.
But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.
“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)
“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”
“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.
Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.
As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.
Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.
Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.
“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)
“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)
Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.
“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)
He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.
“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.
And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.
After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.
Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.
You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.
“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.
“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”
“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.
“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)
“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,
“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)
Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.
Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.
From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.
Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.
“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.
“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)
He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.
From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)
“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)
Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.
“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)
It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.
“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)
Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.
A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.
“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)
The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.
Excluding being drenched from the rain.
Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.
Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.
At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.
“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.
“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)
His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,
“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”
copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.
#nct#nct au#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct angst#nct fluff#nct smut#nct x reader#nct 127#nct 127 au#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 angst#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 smut#nct 127 x reader#jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#jung jaehyun#nct jaehyun#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun smut#jaehyun angst#nct jaehyun x reader#jeong jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun imagines
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"but even if this is our end, it won't change what we had; i love you more than you'll ever know. be well."
i really should replay the ffxiv drk quests again
#drk has this really nice feeling of#you'll never be alone because you'll always have yourself#i really love as well how the own things i write myself from long ago. those feelings those sentiments still remain with me today#it's even more lovely for me when i think about i've already had all these thoughts long before ffxiv#playing ffxiv n the story really helped me accept it deeper in depth. i've always managed to find a selfish comfort in fiction#looking at my notes rn n i see another quote ( from octopath )#'no matter how lofty our aspirations in the end we can only do what we are capable of#better to make ourselves the best that we can be than dream in vain of saintliness.'#back to ffxiv tho. i love all expacs n enw's rlly special n felt personal yeah but#shb reminds me of my childhood. the kind of fantasy i love so much#remembering has always been of great comfort to me. one reason why i probably relate with emet-selch a lot#and writing/reading... i've always found myself in words. one reason probably why ffxiv really managed to touch me to the core. the story#yk i reflect and think back on the past a lot but i'm more of a future person. i face tomorrow standing tall#i think ffxv first really engraved that sentiment in my heart#the concept of hope is something i really love#i really love analyzing my thoughts. the kind of person i am. how everything influences me in relation as well to my#consciousness n the things that come to me subconsciously#hmmm. i want to learn a lot more about the world but with what little time we all have in our lives#i think what would really give me comfort is understanding other people.#we're all so alike and similar in our uniqueness and i'd really love to understand others on a deep and authentic depth#if i were to accept myself and let myself be completely free then i wonder what would be the extent of my success#i'll see for myself in time. for now i'll just continue to do what i can in this moment#the future comes by my own terms. i'll decide and dictate my destiny for myself. i'll accept life for what it is#hmmm. thinking abt it n one thing i want is to probably live this life from the inside#i observe a lot but. i wish i could engage more with my reality and accept that /i'm/ a part of it#i can indulge myself in my passions. that's kindness to myself#in time. meanwhile i'll keep on believing and dreaming. hold fast unto hope. never forget. forge on unto tomorrow.#for now tho hmmm 'what i want'...#🌙.rambles#[ ffxiv. ]
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Writeblr (re)introduction
Hello! My name's Mara. I've been a part of writeblr on & off for the past few years, but I'd like to be more active with the community by dipping my toes back in, starting with a (hopefully) quick reintroduction post.
Edit: this has turned out a bit long, so I'll add a read more link after the "What I write".
About Me:
I'm 21 years old, bisexual, and my pronouns are she/her.
I'm from the Pacific NW of the US.
My ao3: Maralee.
Other than writing, I like playing video games, dabbling in landscape photography, crocheting, and spending a fair amount of time on tumblr.
I also have a site for my photography. If you'd like to browse or buy, check out my portfolio, or you can pop by my ko-fi.
I'm an Independent Consultant for Scentsy. My site is here, or you can click the link in my bio if you're interested. I'll occasionally post about current bundles/ specials, but it won't dominate my blog.
While I'm not currently in college, I wouldn't mind studying archaeology or anthropology; I love learning about ancient civilizations, and their cultures. It really gets you thinking about your life on earth, and what future historians might find.
Little bit of a disclaimer: while this blog started out as a writeblr, it's also a blog for various fandom-related posts, as well as writing resources and advice.
Open to tag and ask games!
What I Write:
My favorite genre, by far, is fantasy. Give me dragons, magic, elves, and epic battles—there's a good chance it'll be a favorite read. I also enjoy science fiction, romance, adventure, and mystery.
I tend to write what I read, so most of what I write is high fantasy or urban fantasy; though I do add elements from other genres, like romance, mystery, action, etc.
Common tropes I tend to lean toward: enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining, coming of age. (Not necessarily in that order.)
I write both original fiction and fan fiction.
Current Works
Original:
The Guiding Star. Intergalactic mercenary Halley Gould is hired to protect the LSS, a lighthouse space station from pirates. Sci-fi short story. WIP page. Second Draft.
Descendant. Eirian, a mage in an anti-magic land, is framed for murder and must prove her innocence by rooting out a deep and far-reaching conspiracy. High fantasy short story. WIP page. First Draft.
Kosma. 19-year-old superpowered Evie Sharp discovers a company named Psibernetics is secretly developing weapons. Fantasy novel. WIP Page. First Draft.
Fanfiction:
A Healer's Lament. Alleilyn Willowwing fights against the forces of Molag Bal, making new friends and allies—and facing old foes. ESO fic. In est. 3rd draft, but you can read it on ao3. [wip page coming soon]
Forged in Fire. Artemis Oakenfire discovers she is the Last Dragonborn, but she has other foes to face—such as the assassins who killed her mother. Skyrim fic. Currently, in brainstorm << current details may be revised. [wip page coming soon].
[Untitled]. Imyili Ulvvas, an aspiring mage, plans to study at the College of Winterhold; unfortunately, with the return of dragons and a fool-hardy, adventure-hungry new friend, that will have to wait. Skyrim fic. Currently in brainstorming/ early concept stage. [wip page coming soon.]
I also have completed one-shots in different fandoms:
BBCs Merlin: To Fall, To Rise // By the Assassin's Blade // Of Servants and Secrets // All in a Day's Work
The Witcher (Netflix): The Only Exception
PJO: Encounter
On the Backburner:
WIPs/ works that aren't my current focus.
Descendant // Kosma // Forged in Fire // A Healer's Lament
Future Project Ideas:
One-shot and WIP concepts which are in consideration.
BBC Merlin: Where the Tides of Change Begin // Right Before Your Eyes // The Last Dragonlord
Smallville: Hits You Softly // Be My Memory // One of Them
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Dunno if you’ve talked about this, but which iteration of eggman was your favorite?
Personally I really liked both Satam eggman and adventure eggman. They both seem like genuine threats who could destroy the entire world,
I like SATam due to how terrifying he was to me as a kid. He took over the world, he’s already made the bad end, and he’s not afraid to kill if he really needs too. Also I hold onto this version of eggman for the nostalgia
I just like adventure a little more cuz they somehow made eggman feel more human during the arc, and I think it helps make him more… terrifying in my opinion cuz he isn’t just some crazy dude, he’s a dude with aspirations and ideals, he’s had a life and feels closer then any villain who feels so far away. Eggman isn’t just eggman, he’s human. And the idea that a human could be like him is horrifying, because we are just so close to them biologically enough that we feel disturbed.
Idk I like thinking about stuff like that hehehehehe-
Oh geez this ask is long lmao.
I have a very simple answer, for me it's game canon Eggman in his entirety, classic and modern, before anything else. Just every game because he's consistent and is the better part of the writing in some games because of it. I'm very lucky to have him as my favorite. They've always known exactly who they want him to be, what he wants to do, and how they want to present him and do it well and find ways to put him in many fun interesting situations while staying true to it. He's the perfect character for both darker and serious and more light hearted funny moments and stories and when both sides are balanced, it's even better.
I do agree that the Adventure games are a highlight for his character with the amount of focus on the great evil he's capable of, his sly cunning ability, and how he's a serious threat in ways nobody can deny but I love all of him before and after too. He's consistently evil and a great threat, regardless of the amount of focus on it and the humor, though it seems he could do with more because people try to deny he's still as evil as he used to be. But I do love how he can be funny too and how it can emphasize and add impact to the great evil he's capable of because he reminds you he's not a joke, he's still a very serious threat.
That's something I love too, how he's human. He's a unique looking cartoony one that's extremely intelligent and capable of amazing out of this world things, but human. I love how he isn't a cyborg/robot/etc, doesn't look generically evil, and has human feelings and passions. You don't have to be nice and empathic to be "human" and I don't know why people think so. He already is just by species lol and if we're talking characterization, he has moments of depth and personal insight without changing his entire being because personality wise, he's already an accurate narcissistic evil bastard.
He's a great representation of how humans can indeed be very evil, selfish, and capable of very terrible things. Eggman has done very evil things that make him a monster but there are also aspects that remind us he's still human just like us, like how he's very passionate about things he enjoys and has dreams and goals he wishes to accomplish, also his determination and confidence to work hard and fight for what he wants. But while those things can be done in harmless and innocent ways, Eggman is deeply selfish and evil and wants to accomplish it through doing terrible things, which isn't unrealistic.
Humans can be monsters and do terrible things and in many ways, he reflects that well in realistic ways, while also being able to go beyond what's possible in real life in fiction, so he can do even more. He can be relatable in terms of species and certain aspects of his interests/hobbies, hopes and dreams, and emotions but he's also capable of terrible things that only the worst people comparable to monsters could want to do, not just without a care or remorse but even enjoying it at times. And both sides are realistic regardless of personal relatability of the audience and that makes him all the more terrifying.
I love thinking about it too, it's a part of what makes him so interesting. He's earned the title of monster with all the worst things he's done but it doesn't revoke his humanity, it is realistic, and it adds impact. It's fantastic! That's why being 100% human, regardless of his differences and his evil, which other people can also really be like even if we don't personally relate, is very appealing over being nonhuman. And instead of the idea that because he's human he must have empathy and goodness (which isn't even true for everyone irl), the way he's human like us and reminds us we're capable of horrible things is gloriously messed up and exciting to me. XD 💜
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ok here are my headcanons for mike's system i had these in a google docs before but i think doing it here will be easier for others to see
obviously these are not 100% concrete and will change over time but these are what i've been working with for the past three years ish haha
mike
18/19 (the age of the body)
he/they
"host" (he fronts the most and is who the rest of the system tends to look to as the core)
sensitive, loyal, compassionate, probably the most academically inclined in that he's very receptive to learning and does so very quickly
he's also easily manipulatable and his vulnerabilities can be easily exploited, especially when it comes to information involving his mental health (i.e what scott did in grand chef auto).
uses a lot of introverted body language and tends to fidget with his hands
enjoys action movies, especially old corny ones
mal
tends to ageslide between the ages of 13~19
he/they/it
the "original" host, mal is the alter who possesses the most memories of trauma and is considered too destructive/unstable to be the main alter by mike (at least at this point in time)
extremely clever, good at debating, overly protective and is very emotionally connected to the rest of the system
cold and callous to anyone not in the system (especially those trying to get close to him), rude, can be manipulative and lashes out when uncomfortable
he tends to have a very defensive posture and wears a lot of baggy and shapeless clothing in an attempt to make himself seem bigger than he actually is
he still likes hall of the mountain king. possibly related to some kind of memory he has that most of the other alters don't...?
svetlana
slightly older than mike, i'd say maybe 19~21ish? she'll usually just say she's however old mike is though
she/her
plays a secondary protective role and tends to front when mike is extremely stressed, but more specifically in situations that require her personal skillset
she's extremely sociable, friendly, and loves to learn about and teach others. she's also extremely agile and athletic
people do tend to find her a little annoying, however, and she's not exactly the best at understanding sarcasm, subtext, or intent if you're not being clear. this can make her seem a little naive or airheaded
she has extremely good posture and emotes with her hands.
tends to speak in a sort of sing-songy way and her vocal range goes quite a bit higher than the rest of the alters since she is the only one who isn't masc-leaning.
also likes to wear makeup and present fem because of this, but is aware that in a lot of situations she may not be able to, which can sometimes give her dysphoria
she does actually know russian though. whether she's fluent is yet to be seen but she can at least hold a conversation
vito
perpetually 22. he's been 22 since he showed up and he'll probably be 22 as long as he's in the system
he/him
an alter born from some kind of (most likely sexual) trauma mike has almost entirely repressed. he may not look like it, but he does play a protective role in that regard
very closeted bisexual. he loves to flirt with women constantly but if any of them reciprocate in a way that could trigger flashbacks (or god forbid a man does), he immediately goes into fight or flight
(as a note, all the other members of the system are bisexual openly, with their own personal leanings towards women or men or whoever)
extremely charismatic and courageous ("i've got balls!"), vito is one of the alters that tends to get mike into a lot of trouble with his skirt-chasing and fast talking.
because of his lack of shame or filter, he tends to get into a lot of sticky situations that other alters may have to step in and de-escalate if he can't do it himself
despite this, he has a lot of interesting talents and skills some of the others don't have. he's extremely good with machinery and mechanics and has a particular knack for fashion and keeping up with trends
his accent probably isn't nearly as strong as it is in the show but it does exist
manitoba smith
approximately 35
he/him
a fictional introject, manitoba is the embodiment of charisma, machismo, bravery and quick wit that mike aspired to have during the experiences that lead to his formation. he also tends to front when mike is stressed, like how svetlana does, but who fronts depends entirely on the situation
he's a survivalist at heart and loves to thrill seek
however, because of the source of the character in which he's based, he tends to come off as not only a little arrogant and rude but sometimes kind of misogynistic? JGKFDGFD he doesn't exactly think too hard about what he's saying.
he has an australian accent but it's very audibly fake-- it's as if he's mimicking someone who is putting on an accent (and he technically is)
if he's in a situation where he's fronting for multiple days or some other longer period of time, he refuses to shave. every other member of the system hates this
he also is the only member of the system who drinks alcohol
chester
ageslides widely from approximately 40 to his mid sixties
he/him
possibly based in part by the passing of a relative extremely close to mike in combination with familial trauma in which he was without any kind of paternal authority figure in which he could rely on or look up to
he seems kind of gruff and stubborn, but he legitimately means well and is just . not entirely comfortable being a grown ass man in the body of a teenager having to only interact with other teenagers.
for this reason he doesn't like to front in social situations and tends to spend his time fronting by himself or with people the rest of the system trust immensely
he's the only member of the system who smokes (svetlana constantly scolds him because of this because she thinks it's very unbecoming and honestly kind of gross)
he is the most emotionally attached to mal in the system and because of this they can sometimes co-front together as a pair
he's one of the few members of the system who can play an instrument (he knows how to play the piano, vito can play the guitar)
#hc tag#very long!!!!!!!!!!!! oops!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#mentions of trauma in here but nothing detailed its all very vague#as always lmk what you guys think........any opinions..........#rehab au#i guess#since this is what i'll be using as a guide for that
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