#this is pointless but it brings me joy so
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danhalen · 11 months ago
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the little animal emojis remind me so much of sandylion stickers and i want to put them on everything
🫎🦎🦖🦕🐢🐊🐍🐖🐇🐁🐀🐈🐈‍⬛🐩🐕🦮🐕‍🦺🫏🐎🐄🐂🐃🦬🐏🐑🐐🦌🦙🦥🦘🐘🦣🦏🦛🦒🐆🐅🐒🦍🦧🐪🐫🐿️🦫🦨🦡🦔🦦🦇🐦🐦‍⬛🐓🐔🐣🐤🐥🦅🦉🦜🕊️🦤🦢🦆🪿🦩🦚🐦‍🔥🦃🐧🦭🦈🐬🐋🐳🐟🐠🐡🦐🦞🦀🦑🐙🪼🦪🪸🦂🕷️🪰🪳🦟🪲🦗🐜🐌🐝🐞🦋🐛🪱🦠
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mercymaker · 1 month ago
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therapy's in almost two weeks so i guess dbd and writing about pointless shit it is
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szappan · 5 months ago
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idk if this would be helpful to you but how about. you pick your fave 5 letters. then make up a thesis statement/question/thing that stars with each of thise 5 letters. and then make a poll and have people vote on it? not the same as getting assigned something specific but it might give you direction. in case you dont have any favourite letters here are my 10 top 10 if you want more examples 1. j 2. e 3. o 4. g 5. d 6. b 7. i 8. l 9. z 10. u
if this isnt totally your thing and youre not interest u dont have to reply i just thought maybe u need a nudge like this :-)
augh this is brilliant thank you my friend ill give this a spin :-) those are very good letters indeed!! thank you for your help, getting peer reviewed should be very useful, so ill think about those statements now!
#ive had a pretty good idea since before i started at university and i could've been getting paid for it all this time if i wasn't busy doing#the érettségi before the application deadline so i never pursued it because also the more i thought about it the more pointless it seemed#but i just said to my mum 'the romans brought christianity to the british isles' and she said 'huh?' and then she said that i dont have to#write a phd right now and i can just compare the texts im thinking about and that'll be plenty i dont have to do the history of them#and that does seem more doable. and i can bring india into it and also the shakers. and that should tide me over#but i hate my own writing so much i cant make myself not sound capricious in my essays and i get hung up on technicalities all the time#and then inevitably do stupid wordplay and get all coy with it. i just need to be genuine about it and write about this thing and that's it#and i need to email boldizsár. sorry boldizsár i have all sorts of things i hope you're not tired of me#but also i have tons of ideas but when i start to think whether they could work the answer is always no#ill try to write a thesis proposal in the next few days and see where that gets me and if i can write it (1200 words) i can probably write#a thesis. and then ill have committed and i wont be in 153563 minds about this and i can close all my tabs in my browser and ill know joy#once again#asks#thank you so much for this ask this is such a good technique!!!#ref
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sunfloralchaos · 9 months ago
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Comparison is the thief of joy and yet
Im constantly on the move, full steam ahead with as much as I can handle and more so even still. And it doesn't feel like anything
It feels like I'm forever chasing some high that I'm not meant for. Some achievement or recognition that the thing that is my entire life is worth it
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bi-buck-coded · 2 years ago
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No one really sees / reads my random personal posts anyway so im popping off in the tags
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dreamyprinx · 2 years ago
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after the next few drafts are posted any other art posts may become more sporadic for the foreseeable future as I honestly hold little love for art or my ocs lately and don’t know if/when that’ll change. thanks for understanding
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deepfriedseagullfeet · 5 months ago
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i keep trying to push myself to do things but everything is just so unsatisfying. art keeps coming out bad and i cant even say i enjoyed drawing. just filled time. want to write but actually writing leaves me empty. cooking/cleaning brings me absolutely nothing. i feel soulless
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gimmick-blog-bracket · 4 months ago
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Now for the final round!
@hellsitegenetics
I love them
I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.
it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!
so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches
perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for
It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!
Creatures 👍
Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite
Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.
I love them. English speakers talk like moths
If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!
They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!
uhh it’s cool
BLAST
There are so many weird bugs in the world
Yippee!!
If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.
Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH
Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie
the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise
This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.
If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3
@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet
What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?
The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3
a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet
gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature
what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?
sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks
Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021
Arson is so much more fun
It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament
you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year
hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service
always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'
the goat account is peak gimmick blog
If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements
Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!
goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting
I wanna see things burn
the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays
watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it
the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.
Please guys bite gavlebocken
Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet
gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful
hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?
sacred anti-corporate arson
a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!
pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for
the goat is the GOAT
HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON
the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them
they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news
let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you
nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win
doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess
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malusokay · 23 days ago
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when sad days hit 𓂃⋆.˚
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sometimes, when life feels heavy, it’s hard to figure out what to do with yourself. here’s a little list of things that help me feel more grounded on days when everything seems off:
clear your schedule as much as you can. make time for yourself, to breathe, distract yourself, and focus on what brings you a little joy.
step outside for a bit. even if it’s just walking to the store to grab a snack. If going for a walk feels pointless, having a tiny mission (like buying chocolate or gum) can make it feel more doable.
call a friend. if calling feels like too much, text someone you trust. even a small connection can help break the mental loop.
stay warm. I swear, being cold makes everything worse.
try to pinpoint why you’re sad. if there’s no clear reason, that’s okay too, don’t overthink it. sometimes feelings just exist, and that’s okay.
move your body. you don’t have to hit the gym if that feels like too much. a YouTube workout, some yoga, or even just stretching can release some of the tension.
take a shower. clean hair = clean mind. I don’t know why, but when my hair feels dirty, I feel awful.
chill with the caffeine. too much coffee makes me more restless and anxious, so try to swap it for tea or water when you're already feeling down.
get off your phone. do something creative instead, make a collage, bake cookies, experiment with makeup. it’s a nice way to focus on something tactile and rewarding.
find cosy productivity. when I don’t feel like talking to people, I stay home and study or work on small projects. being cosy but productive is satisfying and keeps my mind busy.
keep track of your meals. I lose my appetite when I’m feeling down, so setting reminders to eat something makes a big difference.
sleep, sleep, sleep. honestly, sleep fixes more than you’d think. Give yourself permission to rest.
be gentle with yourself, and remember, it’s okay to take things one tiny step at a time. you’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough. <3
my insta -> @ malusokay
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iamgonnagetyouback · 5 months ago
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dancing in the rain ⋆˚࿔
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synopsis ⭑.ᐟ james potter x reader where he hates the rain, but you have opposite views
warnings: tooth rotting fluff
word count: 938 words
navigation┆ james potter masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚
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James Potter was sulking. For the past hour, he had been grumbling under his breath, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he sat on the Gryffindor Quidditch stands. The rain poured down relentlessly, pounding the field and drenching everything in sight, including James’s mood.
“Bloody weather. Ruined practice,” he muttered, staring gloomily at the puddles forming on the pitch.
You sat next to him, humming softly to yourself, completely unaffected by the downpour. In fact, you loved it. The rain was your thing—the rhythm of the drops, the fresh smell of wet grass, the way the world seemed to quiet down, as if nature itself was taking a deep breath.
James, however, seemed ready to punch a cloud.
“I mean, who likes rain? It's so—ugh,” he groaned again, clearly expecting you to chime in with a sympathetic nod or an equally passionate rant against the weather.
But you were quiet. Too quiet.
James frowned, looking up from his intense stare at the mud. “Hey, are you even—” His voice trailed off when he turned to find you… gone.
His heart skipped a beat as he whipped his head around, panic rising. “Where the hell—”
And then he saw you.
There you were, standing in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, your white dress already soaked, but that didn't seem to bother you at all. You twirled in the rain, arms outstretched, head tilted back to let the droplets fall on your face, as if the world was putting on a show just for you. The sight of you, spinning and laughing, so carefree, caught his breath.
You noticed him staring and waved dramatically. “Oi, Potter! Stop grumbling and come here!”
James just stared at you, rain drizzling down his glasses. “I hate the rain!” he called back, the frustration clear in his voice.
You raised your eyebrows, incredulous. “You hate the rain? How could anyone hate rain?!”
Before James could protest, you marched back to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him down from the stands with a mischievous grin. “Come on, grumpy, you need a bit of this magic.”
“Sweetheart, my hair is getting soaked!” James whined, though there was a slight tug of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “Quidditch practice is cancelled, I’m cold, and—”
You cut him off by spinning him around so suddenly he stumbled a little. “Dance with me!” you ordered, that playful glint in your eyes making his protests seem utterly pointless.
James hesitated, glancing down at his drenched Quidditch jersey, then at your bright face, and finally up at the sky. “You’re mad, you know that?” he chuckled, shaking his head, but his fingers still curled around yours.
“I’ve been told,” you winked, stepping closer and placing one hand on his shoulder, the other still holding his. “Now, are you going to dance or let the rain win?”
He rolled his eyes dramatically but couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “Fine,” he sighed, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “But if I get struck by lightning, I’m blaming you.”
You giggled and pulled him into an impromptu waltz, both of you stumbling through puddles, laughing like children as the rain continued to pour down. James was awkward at first, trying not to slip, his feet splashing through the mud, but after a few moments, he loosened up. Your joy was infectious, and soon, his complaints were forgotten as the two of you twirled and spun across the field, the rain soaking you both to the bone.
“This is ridiculous!” James shouted over the rain, but his laugh betrayed him.
“You love it!” you yelled back, twirling away from him and then back into his arms, making him catch you.
He caught you with ease, spinning you around in his arms before bringing you close, his nose nearly brushing yours. “You’re insane,” he murmured, his voice softer now, intimate, as if the rain had formed a cocoon around the two of you, blocking out the rest of the world.
You beamed up at him, droplets of rain running down your cheeks, your soaked hair sticking to your forehead. “And yet, here you are, dancing with me in the rain.”
James leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. “Only because you’re irresistible,” he said, his voice low and warm, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
“You hate the rain, huh?” you teased softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his wet hair.
James grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling with affection. “Maybe it’s growing on me.”
And just like that, he kissed you—soft at first, but then deeper, more passionate, as the rain continued to pour around you, soaking you both but making everything feel electric. The world seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you, dancing in the rain, lost in the moment.
When you finally pulled away, breathless, you smiled up at him. “Told you the rain was magical.”
James laughed, shaking his head as he tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s not so bad when I’m with you.”
You smirked, poking him in the chest. “Not so bad? You’ll be begging for more rainy days after this.”
“Only if you promise to keep dancing with me,” he said, and you could tell by the way he looked at you that he meant it.
With a grin, you pulled him into another twirl, the rain continuing to fall around you as you both laughed and danced together, completely oblivious to anything else but each other.
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© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.
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olderthannetfic · 1 month ago
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Hi OTNF and everyone,
I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.
In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.
I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.
Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?
I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)
Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).
I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*
I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!
So, uh. Anyone here with me?
--
Yes.
I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.
Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.
Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.
I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.
It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.
I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."
Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.
Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.
--
The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.
If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.
Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.
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mcflymemes · 4 months ago
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PROMPTS FROM NORMAL PEOPLE *  assorted dialogue from the book by sally rooney, some lines slightly changed to suit a roleplay format, adjust as necessary
i'm not a religious person, but i do sometimes think god made you from me.
i have a sense that real life is happening somewhere far away, happening without me, and i don't know if i will ever found out where it is or become part of it.
no one can be independent of other people completely.
life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.
he probably won't come back.
what we have now, we can never have back again.
for me, the pain of loneliness will be nothing to the pain i used to feel, of being unworthy.
we've done a lot of good for each other.
people can really change one another.
you should go. i'll always be here. you know that.
generally i find men are a lot more concerned with limiting the freedoms of women than exercising personal freedom for themselves.
most people go through their whole lives without ever really feeling that close with anyone.
life is the thing you bring with you inside your own head.
even in memory, i will always find that moment unbearably intense.
i have never believed i'm fit to be loved by any person.
yes. that was it. the beginning of my life.
it's funny the decisions you make because you like someone.
your whole life is different.
i think we're at that weird age where life can change a lot from small decisions.
if people appear to behave pointlessly in grief, it's only because human life is pointless, and this is the truth that grief revealed.
i don't know what's wrong with me.
i don't know why i can't be like normal people.
it feels powerful to put an experience down in words.
people are a lot more knowable than they think they are.
there's always been something inside me that men have wanted to dominate.
i want my life to mean something.
a lot of the literary people in college see books primarily as a way of appearing cultured.
that's the only part of myself i want to protect, the part that exists inside you.
there's something so corrupt and sexy about it.
i wish you didn't have to go.
i wish you could stay the night.
life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.
literature moves me.
it almost sounds sexual.
you learn nothing very profound about yourself simply by being bullied.
it's time you'll never get back.
time is real. the money is also real.
we've done a lot of good for each other.
the snow keeps falling.
hopefully i have changed, you know, as a person. but honestly, if i have, it's because of you.
he does have immaculate taste.
it's not like this with other people.
[name], would you ever fuck off?
you lean in expecting resistance, and everything just falls away in front of you.
i would lie down and die for you at any minute.
sometimes, someone will make eye contact with me, like a bus conductor or a person looking for change, and i'll feel shocked that anyone can actually see me.
we could be in a room full of people and my eyes would always meet yours, just to find that you had already been looking.
there's something comforting about it, something good about feeling sort of numb, detached from it all.
it was different with you, didn't have to play any games with you. it was just real.
no one is ever gonna hurt you like that again. everything's gonna be all right. trust me.
i love you, and i'm not gonna let anything like that happen to you again.
we have done so much good for one another.
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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year ago
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MISTLETOE — JESS MARIANO
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masterlist
pairing: jess mariano x reader
description: when lorelai gilmore insists on hosting a christmas party, you might just catch yourself under the mistletoe with the boy you, like, totally don’t have a crush on or anything.
warnings: swearing as usual. fluff & a tiny bit of angst. jess smoking and u having a tiny smoke.
author’s note: u asked for more festive jess, and i am hear to answer ur cries! jess mariano i adore you !!!
“Y/N! You’re here!”
Lorelai Gilmore had never looked quite so pleased to see you, her eyes twinkling as they scanned over the Christmas jumper you were (rather reluctantly) wearing.
“Hi, Lorelai,” you smiled, handing her the bottle of champagne you’d been given to bring as a party favour, to which she grinned, “Thanks sweetie, come on in.”
You followed her down the hall and were embarrassingly pleased when your eyes caught those of a miserable looking Jess Mariano.
The moment he saw you he seemed to perk up, and you couldn’t help but notice Lorelai’s smirk as she watched you immediately beeline for him.
“Hey Y/L/N,” he almost smiled, picking at a piece of bread he’d been toying with eating for a while, “You got roped into coming too then?”
You scoffed, “Like Lorelai was going to let anyone get out of the biggest event of the festive season?”
“Don’t let Taylor hear you say that, his 300 different pointless events will be crushed,” Jess laughed, and you couldn’t help but revel in the sound.
You couldn’t quite pinpoint when the joy at finding a friend with whom you had so much in common had become something more, but you didn’t like the way butterflies consumed your stomach when you were around him.
He was your friend, nothing more, and so — how cliche — you wouldn’t even really admit to yourself that you really liked him.
“Nice jumper,” he smirked, and suddenly you regretted adhering to Lorelai’s supposedly strict rule of no entry without a Christmas jumper, “Very festive.”
He was stifling a laugh, and you shook your head as your cheeks burned crimson under his intense gaze.
“Oh fuck off,” you looked down at where Rudolph and Santa were emblazoned on your chest, “I didn’t think I’d get away with no jumper and I didn’t have one, so it’s my mum’s.”
He chuckled now because he already knew that, having already seen your mother wearing the jumper the previous week, accompanied by the fact it was adorably oversized on you and he found it cute that it swamped your frame.
You’d tried tucking it into your jeans to minimise the bagginess, but to no avail.
“It’s cute,” he teased, swiping his tongue over his lips as you looked away, “But it looks warm. Like, crazy warm.”
“Oh, it is. I’m dying here. Anyway I didn’t think you’d actually come,” you shrugged, “If I’d known I wouldn’t have worn the jumper. One, there was no chance you were going to actually listen to Lorelai, and two, I could do without the teasing!”
Jess raised his eyebrows, “Hey, I’m not teasing,” he raised his hands up as if in defeat, “But you think I’d miss all this?”
The sarcasm in his tone as his eyes scanned the room made you giggle, “Of course. Nothing says Christmas like Taylor arguing with everyone and Lorelai running around being the fun enforcer.”
You both watched as Taylor seemed to be enthusiastically explaining something to a frustrated looking Sookie, and saw Lorelai still flitting around the room trying to ensure that everyone was having an at least somewhat pleasant time.
“I could do with some fresh air,” Jess’ eyes almost challenged you, because you knew he was going out to smoke and that Lorelai was inevitably going to have an issue with that, “Wanna join?”
You were well aware that it was in your best interest to not follow him around wherever he went, but you were so drawn to Jess that it was impossible not to.
“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged, gesturing for him to lead the way, “But you better not expect me to cover for you when Lorelai’s like a sniffer dog and finds you smoking.”
Jess just rolled his eyes, “Sure, officer.”
“Woah, woah, woah, where are you two going?” Lorelai asked, eyes immediately catching you both quickly exiting the room and widening in dismay.
“Y/N is wearing the clothing equivalent of a sauna over here, she just needs fresh air,” Jess crossed his arms over his chest as Lorelai’s eyes narrowed.
You smiled sheepishly, “We won’t be gone long, I promise.”
Lorelai didn’t appear convinced, but her expression suddenly lit up when she noticed where you were currently stood between rooms — directly under a doorframe adorned with mistletoe.
“Well, well, well,” Jess smirked, leaning an elbow on the doorframe as he watched you grow shy under his watchful eye, “Pucker up, princess.”
You shoved him slightly, and he almost toppled straight over, “Right, yeah. Like I’d kiss you.”
“Ouch,” Jess pouted, “You wound me.”
“I think your ego can take the hit, Jess,” you bit your lip, overwhelmed both by embarrassment at him joking about kissing you in front of the whole room and the urge to just say “fuck it!” and kiss him.
For a moment he looked genuinely hurt, but he soon resumed his usual nonchalant expression and continue his pursuit outside for a cigarette.
You followed him quickly, scurrying along behind him as he pulled a cigarette from its box and lit it without a moment’s thought once he’d passed the decking.
“Dude—slow down,” you huffed, “You invited me outside and then ran off like you didn’t want me here. What gives?”
Jess rolled his eyes, “Oh please, if you’re going to just question me then do me a favour and go back inside.”
“Woah,” you warned, taken aback by his sudden rude tone when he’d been joking around just minutes prior, “What the fuck is going on here? What have I done in the last 30 seconds that’s pissed you off this badly?”
Jess’ face seemed to drop, like he’d realised he shouldn’t be snapping at you like he was, “It doesn’t matter, Y/N. Just— just go back inside, alright? I’m sorry.”
You weren’t for even a moment going to accept that dismissal, instead sauntering to his side and snatching the cigarette from his fingers to take one single drag.
You didn’t smoke, made abundantly clear by the coughing that followed, so you weren’t sure why you’d so frantically taken it from him.
You shoved it back towards him and he accepted it with a laugh.
“Now you’re laughing? What is up with you?”
Jess rolled his eyes yet again, “I just don’t understand you, Y/L/N.”
You gulped, finally overcoming your coughing fit as your face was lit with confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You came straight over to me when you got here. You giggled and you blushed and you smiled and,” he paused, like he was regretting opening his mouth, before he caved and continued, “And then when everyone’s watching you laugh at the idea of kissing me.”
You scoffed at that, “Says you Mr. ‘Pucker up princess’? Since when did you care if I want to kiss you under the stupid mistletoe or not?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know… Since the countless fuckin’ weeks I’ve been flirting with you?” he was gesticulating wildly as he spoke, as though what he was saying had been obvious the whole time.
“You tease me, Jess, you don’t flirt with me,” you shrugged, breathing ragged as you pondered what it was he was really saying, “We’re friends and you know I—you just tease me about little things to wind me up. You’ve never ever made any suggestion that you like me.”
“God you’re so oblivious, man,” Jess shook his head, extinguishing his cigarette and tossing it out of sight to step closer to you.
Normally you’d hate the lingering smoke smell, but on Jess it was almost a comfort — though it did nothing to calm your racing heart in this moment.
“I’m hardly good with like, feelings, am I?” he leaned forward, so close you could feel his breath on your face, “I thought I was doing a good enough job at, like, I dunno— I mean I called you princess, for fucks sake. You think I’d do that if I didn’t like you?”
You sighed, “I just assumed you were joking around, trying to make me flustered to get a laugh out of it… I mean, princess? Really? That’s an awful choice and— I just don’t believe for a second that you like me.”
“And why not?”
“I—, well—,”
He didn’t let you fumble over your words any longer, dipping his head to press his lips firmly to yours and pulling you closer to his chest.
“I really do like you Y/N,” he exhaled as he pulled away, his voice quiet and low, “I should’ve made that clearer, and I just got annoyed that the mistletoe could’ve been my chance to kiss you and you blew it off like it was a hilarious idea.”
“Only because you joked like it was!”
“To protect my ego as you so kindly put it,” he quirked his brow, no longer mad and instead still giddy from the kiss, “But I got my kiss in the end, eh?”
You chuckled, “Don’t push your luck, sunshine.”
“You haven’t even told me you actually like me back yet, either,” Jess huffed, and you could detect the faintest pout on his lips as he paused, “This is going to be hard fucking work, isn’t it?”
You leaned in to peck the corner of his lips gently, a small smirk playing on your face, “Mhm. Get used to it, Mariano. ‘Cause I like you too. A whole fucking lot, in fact.”
“Good, now do you fancy going back in there and giving the mistletoe another try? I’m sure it’d spice the party right up.”
You shook your head, eyes rolling at the teasing look on his face, “Let’s just stay out here for now, huh Romeo?”
You were silent for a moment until he kissed you again, hands wrapping around your waist as yours found the back of his neck.
“Sounds good to me, princess.”
———
thanks for reading guys !!! this was a lil ooc but fun to write so i hope you enjoyed. please let me know what you think ! <3
here is my masterlist for more of my works :-)
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blackknight-kai · 4 months ago
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Just grooming headcanons and how would DO/SW react to reader busting out a whole ass skincare/haircare routine with tons of nice smelling products, shampoos, oils and hair masks
monke getting pampered tonight!!!
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Okay! So I have grooming thoughts/HC and I’ll maybe get a whole post together at some point for it, but for now I wanna focus on this particular scenario of modern reader wanting to pamper him.
So, I feel like they would actually react the same way about this, mainly because they both grew up in the same environment and are both warriors etc. That being said I do think there will be a few differences and I’ll list them out.
Before I begin, I want to preface that I think if would be funny if they BOTH would be very against/dont wanna do it at first (I’ll explain why- this is in regards to the skincar/haircare/oils etc not general grooming).
I think SW out of the two would be easier to convince, not right away, but I do think hed eventually give in quicker than DO. I also think SW would seek you out after he realized how much he liked it and would demand his pampering. DO would be more subtle about it and let himself get a little extra messy so you offer it. DO is more on the indifferent side, thinking it’s pointless where as SW thinks that but also sees it as ‘fancy’ and too ‘soft’.
- [ ] You would think he’d jump at the chance to be groomed and have your hands running through his fur? Generally yes. But this? No.
- [ ] Absolutely Refuses when you first bring it up. Curls his lip and wrinkles his nose and everything.
- [ ] Thinks it’s a waste. Of. Time.
- [ ] He would be just fine with a wash and scrub in the river/waterfall, doesnt need whatever the hell that is.
- [ ] Doesnt like how stuff feels on his fur (even if it’s gonna be washed off) - he has yet to experience the joy of modern products making his fur extra soft though.
- [ ] He’s gonna argue that for him, someone who regularly gets into fights and rolls around getting into shit and is always getting filthy for one reason or another, wasting all that stuff is useless. (Not that hes dirty, he washes all the time)
- [ ] The scents of the products would irritate his sensitive nose so before you ask again you’d have to find stuff that he could deal with.
- [ ] Grooming is important in his culture so he genuinely loves grooming and being groomed by you, BUT he drawls the line at this fancy frou-frou modern shit. He is a strong, independent warrior and does NOT need to smell like a flower (disregarding how often he rolls in them when playing with monkey cubs).
- [ ] As much as he grew up being used to grooming and it being a bonding thing, it’s not something he is used to in regards of “being taken care of”. It was more of a social thing so you wanting to take care of him makes him on edge.
- [ ] If you keep at it though eventually he will give in, just the once (he thinks). Especially when you show him the products before hand and they dont smell AS bad.
- [ ] He’s gonna pout and sigh dramatically through the first bit of it. Trying to keep up a ‘I’m only doing this for you, you owe me’ facade.
- [ ] But he very quickly realizes that he freaking adores this!
- [ ] The low lighting, soft smells, warm fuzzy atmosphere, being the focus of your attention for an extended period of time?
- [ ] You rinsing his fur? Slowly massaging in the soaps and scraping your nails gently over his skin? The hot warm water coupled with you rubbing the knots out of his sore muscles? Drying him with gentle towel rubs and light blow drying so he’s nice and soft and fluffy? Rubbing oil or lotion on the fur less patches of his so his skin is hydrated and soft? You just touching him for so damn long tenderly, letting him lean back against your chest when in the tub or letting him lay across your lap as you blow dry his back, or giving him a real massage after while he just lies there feeling like a fucking cloud? Even with the damn moist thing you put on his face.
- [ ] He is in fucking LOVE and heaven. THIS is the real heaven, right here. You have one giant puddle of a monkey and you’ve done it now.
- [ ] He’s going to be letting out so many sighs and light grunts/groans of innocent pleasure. His mind will be quiet and he will just bask in the attention you’ve given him.
- [ ] Very addicted to it although it wont happen SUPER often. (Although you made him boujee about his soap now so this is your fault)
- [ ] SWK - again will from here on DEMAND his pamperings when he deems it time. DO - will be more subtle about it, purposely letting himself get messy and take bare minimum washes so you get fed up with how disheveled his fur is and ‘make’ him sit for you for a night of pampering time.
- [ ] He is gonna be smug as fuck though to other monkeys / people with his glossy soft fur and beautiful shining soft skin. SWK would strut like a peacock and DO would be a bit more subtle about it but would still show off.
- [ ] Definitely WILL return the favor. Enjoys it very much in fact, again it’s a social thing/bonding thing, plus he gets to make you feel special too/has his hands on you for extended periods of time.
Side note: I feel like since this is more of a pamper the monkey thing spicy time would be on a low simmer. But if it leads to it, it would happen AFTER everything is said and done. Not that he wouldn’t get you worked up or you him, slick hands are traveling all over each others bodies after all (sometimes deliberately). But I think it would be tender and slow, just enjoying the warm soft gooey atmosphere you two have created for the night.
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cdragons · 5 months ago
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hiii i see you lurking :3 miss u love u muah muah muah!!!!
I don't know what you're talking about, my love O//W//O, but please enjoy this little drabble dedicated to another one of our brainchild. Happy 1K followers, my love! It's been so wonderful to see how much your blog has grown and it brings me so much joy to know that others see what an incredible writer you are.
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"It's not fair!" Sansa insisted to her parents, stomping one foot on the stone floor, emphasizing her anger and ire. "Birdy is MY friend, not Robb's! He can't keep trying to steal her!"
"She's not an actual bird, sister," Robb quipped back, annoyed that his younger sister was making such a pointless fuss. "And I wasn't stealing. We were simply talking."
Lord Eddard Stark was exhausted after a long day of acting as the high lords of his ancestral home. The last thing he had expected was his solar to be barged in by his eldest daughter, demanding that his eldest son and her older trueborn brother be barred from speaking from her favorite handmaiden. However, it seemed that dealing with Robb was going to be as much as a dread, if not more than Sansa, if his tense shoulders and scowl were anything to go by.
It wasn't that Ned Stark wasn't grateful for your presence, however strange the circumstances of your arrival were. It was highly unusual for a bastard of a noble to come to be the handmaid of a highborn lord's daughter such as Sansa, even more so when your sire was none other than Roose Bolton himself. Truly, he was shocked when Sansa begged him and his wife to promote you to such a high rank. But he couldn't deny how happy you've made his daughter.
"Look, Father!" she was beaming the other morning when she came down to the Great Hall to break fast with the family. "Do you notice anything different today?" Now, Ned loved all his children, but he was the first to admit that he was as ill-informed as any other man regarding matters of women and young girls. However, looking up from his plate, he was surprised to indeed have noticed something different about his daughter's appearance today. "You've done something with your hair," he replied, inwardly delighted with himself from how Sansa smiled wider. "It looks lovely, dear." "Isn't it beautiful? Birdy brushed and braided it for me!" Sansa went to her seat. "She found wild blue roses the other day and thought of braiding them into my hair today!" "It looks wonderful, Sansa," Catelyn Stark nodded. Despite her distaste for her husband's decision to take in Roose Bolton's bastard, she couldn't deny that the girl was good at her work. "Birdy said she could go to the market at Winter Town tomorrow. But she said that she'd wait until after my lessons with Septa Mordane if I wanted to come with her," Sansa looked at her parents with pleading eyes. "May I please go?" Catelyn nodded, "Robb, would you mind escorting your sister and Lady Snow to the marketplace later after your lessons with Rodrick?" Sansa spoke for her brother. "There's no need for Robb to join us. Birdy already asked Jon to do it." "I'll go," Robb interjected, ecstatic with glee at the idea of walking around town with you. He looked back to see your reaction. As usual, you weren't paying attention to anyone and lost in your little world. You seemed to be talking to a new bird today, the little creature cheerily twittering into your ear. Robb spent the rest of the meal lost in his daytime dreams of you, utterly oblivious to the growing irritation of his younger sister.
Sansa pouted and crossed her arms, "You already have Jon, and Theon follows you everywhere! Why do you need to talk to Birdy for anything anyway? She doesn't like to talk about swords or hunting..." She turned to their father. "He even went so far as to pull her into a corner after we broke fast!"
"WHA-!" Robb balked, and the tips of his ears went red. "I did NOT--!"
"Robb," their father, Ned Stark, turned to his son with stern eyes. While Ned was confident that Robb knew better than to act so dishonorably, he wasn't blind to how quickly his eldest son and heir had taken to Sansa's new handmaiden. "Is what your sister speaks true?"
Robb rubbed his eyes and loudly sighed out his frustration. He loved his sister as much as anyone else in his family, but gods above, she could be so much. Really, how can you ever manage to keep your patience with such a tiresome girl he'll never understand?
"No," he firmly replied. "I was merely informing her that I would be joining Jon in escorting her and Sansa to the market."
"I already told you that you don't have to come!" Sansa growled. "Every time Birdy and I talk, you have to come in and interrupt!"
"You spend so much time together. Have you ever considered that perhaps I'm rescuing her from you?" Robb muttered, just low enough for his sister to hear but not his father.
"I heard that, Robb," their father grumbled. Ned looked like he had aged ten years since his children came in and interrupted his peace. "Sansa, you know better than to falsely accuse your brother like that. Robb, please refrain from any impulsive actions. As the next Lord of Winterfell, you need to remember your differing stations."
"Yes, Father," the siblings grumbled in unison. But anyone could tell that this issue was far from over.
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"Honestly...! Robb can be so annoying!" Sansa and you have just returned from the market stand with your favorite spinner. What should have been a relaxing walk turned out to be a tiresome activity with the addition of not one but both of her older brothers. "He always has to put his nose into everything!" She waited for you to agree, but you were silent. Turning to look at you, her frustration grew when she realized you weren't paying attention. "Are you even listening to me?"
You finally looked up from your knitting and impassively blinked. "Not really...why? Was it important?"
Sansa sighed before sitting beside you. You and her were sitting underneath the Weirwood Tree, your favorite spot in the Godswood. "As your lady, everything I say to you is important. You're my handmaid; you should know this..."
You dispassionately shrugged. "I'm still not very familiar with the ways of highborn nobles."
Sansa indignantly huffed before pouting. You gave a small smile before going back to your knitting.
“Who do you like better, me or Robb?”
You look at her lady in surprise and confusion. “Your brother? Lord Stark’s firstborn?”
Sansa nods. “Yes, now tell me, do you like me or him better?”
You cocks your head to the side. “Why would that matter, my lady?”
“Because it does!” Sansa rolls her eyes. "He's always interrupting us and trying to flirt with you!"
You carefully think about it. You hadn’t really spent much time with Lord Robb. You're more likely to play with the little ones or Jon, which is common ground for both of you being bastards. In the beginning, Robb tended to avoid you whenever he could. But now he tends to single you out whenever he sees you and his sister talking. “Your brother has been very kind to me. He is certainly very nice. But I haven’t spent much time with him to know. When he does try to talk to me, I find it sometimes difficult to talk with him.”
Sansa’s eyes widen. “He hasn’t been rude to you like Theon, has he?” She shook her head.
“No, just…hard to talk. Not much to say from me to him I suppose.”
“Is that how it is with me?”
You turn to Sansa. “No, I find it very easy to talk to you, my lady. You are very different from me, but I like our discussions very much.”
Each word you spoke was true. Many would consider your Lady Sansa, a silly little girl who believed in too many stories about pretty princes and great heroes. But you knew true evil - you were born from it and was raised with it looming over your shoulder for your entire life. Snasa may have been naive, but she was a kind girl who still saw the beauty in her world. A beauty you couldn't see, but could appreciate.
You and her were very different, but you enjoyed spending time with her. It was apparent she was very proud of her noble birth, but you never felt uncomfortable. In fact, you felt as relaxed with her as you do with Maester Luwin, going so far as to speak informally with her without any other company.
Sansa smiles and hugs you. “I think so, too. So you do like me more than Robb.”
You think and nod. “Yes, I am very confident to say that is the case.”
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Jon loved Robb - really, he did. But gods above, his brother could be a brat. "Future lords aren't supposed to sulk."
Robb growled, "I am not sulking."
"Pouting, then..." Jon muttered, going back to aim his arrow at the target. But the arrow flew over the wall when a stray snowball hit his head. Jon turned to his brother, annoyed. "If you want to get to know her so bad, why don't you talk to her without Sansa? You might stand a better chance than just pining after her all day."
"I am not - oh, fuck off," Robb went back to hacking the straw dummy before him. He didn't want to admit it, but Jon was right. It didn't take a genius to guess that his terrible mood had little to do with training and more to do with the fact he failed in his chance to get you alone...again. "Why does she have to be around Birdy all the time, anyway?"
"...Because she's her lady...?"
Robb wanted to scream, "Yeah, but - y'know...doesn't ever annoy you?"
Jon shook his head. Truthfully, it wasn't long ago that his relationship with his half-sister was very different. Before you arrived at Winterfell, the way Sansa treated him was barely better than Lady Stark. She neither acknowledged his presence nor ever referred to him as her brother. But ever since your arrival, the icy wall that separated began to slowly thaw. After befriending you, Sansa gained a whole different perspective on bastardy and was more thoughtful and considerate of how she treated Jon. She even gave him a handkerchief with an embroidered direwolf for his name-day gift.
Jon doubted he and Sansa would ever be as close as he and Ayra, but they were making progress.
Robb wiped the sweat pooling on his forehead. "What would I even talk about with her?"
Jon had the nerve to act oblivious. "Why're you asking me?"
Robb's curse nearly spewed out, "You know why. You're the only one she likes talking to... what the hell do the two of you even talk about for so long?"
"I dunno," Jon shrugged. He knew he wasn't being particularly helpful, but he really didn't have an answer. "Look, just talk to her about anything. Better than what you do now..."
"What are you two talking about?"
Robb and Jon turned around in a panic. There you were, standing in the courtyard with your infamous impassive stare. It was painful to see how effortlessly beautiful you were. You stood like a true beacon of Northern beauty, so much so that all the animals inside the keep craved your company. Robb couldn't recall the number of times he found you cheerily conversing with rats from the kitchen or the crows in the rook.
What he would give to have you speak with him with such eagerness...
"Nothing of importance, my lady," he tried to act as normal as possible. "Why? Do you need assistance with anything?"
You shook your head. "I just wanted to drop something off, " you said, digging into your pouch. You pulled out a package wrapped in a burlap sack and twine. "I mended your gloves. They were looking a bit frayed, so I stitched them. They should last a bit longer now."
Robb didn't respond. He just stood and stared like an idiot who had forgotten his own name. It wasn't until Jon jabbed into his side with his elbow that he thanked you for your help.
"Thank you, my lady," He cleared his throat before taking the package from your hands. He opened the package and wasn't surprised in the least at how his old gloves looked better than when he first got them. You always had that magic touch. "They smell different."
You nodded, "Yes, Ayra mentioned that you were upset last week because I didn't give you my favor since I promised to give it to Jon. She also said you stink after training, so I should ensure the gloves mask the odor." When he didn't react, you decided to provide further clarification. "She said it would help you."
"I'm going to kill Arya," Robb thought to himself. He could see Jon's shoulder shake with laughter from the corner of his eye.
You bowed to take your leave. "Now, excuse me, my lords. I must attend to Edwina."
"A fellow maid?"
"No, the duck in the stable. She's pregnant, and I knitted a scarf for her."
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Happy 1K, my love!
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svtoose · 8 months ago
Text
When Everyone Else Forgot ft. Choi Seungcheol
pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader
word count: 1,300
F + some hurt/sadness
warnings: some cursing, rude friends, college au, cuddling, cheesecake
summary: everyone forgot your birthday except a special someone
a/n : s(ice cream s)coups
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Today was going to be your special day, the day that only happens once a year. Today you would turn 21 years old.
As you awakened in bed, you promised yourself that nothing could ruin your day. No rude roommate, no grumpy teacher. Today was going to be a day spent with your friends filled with happiness, joy, and possibly some booze.
While getting dressed, you made sure to choose your favorite outfit and add just an extra touch of makeup. After all, you wanted to look nice for your birthday.
Once you got to the kitchen, you began to prepare your breakfast, not minding your grumpy roommate, Seungcheol, who would barely look in your direction.
As he shut the fridge right before you reached for the milk, you offered him an impatient deadpan look but quickly moved on and finished preparing your food for the rest of the day. As you had promised yourself earlier, no snarky attitude would get in the way of today’s happiness.
While you were checking your phone, you were surprised not to see any texts from your friends or family. It was true that you no longer lived with your parents, but you were sure they couldn’t possibly forget about today. Perhaps it’s just too early for them, you thought to yourself.
While your roommate shuffled back to his bedroom, you exited the apartment and made your way to class, looking forward to seeing your friends and what they might’ve prepared for you.
Once you reached the building, your friend found you and called your name.
“Y/N!” she shouted. With an extra pep in your step, you rushed toward your friend, ready to walk to your first class of the day together.
“Ugh. I’m so not in the mood for Anthropology right now," she complained.
“Yeah, me neither. At least we’ll get it over with.”
While your morning continued without a single “happy birthday,” you assumed that your friends were preparing a surprise for you during the lunch break. Maybe they’d take you out or get a cake for you.
But by the time your lunch period started, your friends were treating the day like any other. It’s not that you expected some extravagant event, but something special, a card, or a sweet birthday wish would’ve felt nice. After all, you were that friend who made everyone feel so appreciated on their birthdays.
Once lunch was over, you began to feel a bit dejected. You considered bringing it up to your friends, but that would be kind of pointless. You shouldn’t have to remind your friends of a day such as this one.
At 6 o’clock, you had completed your final class of the day and were ready to head home, without a single birthday wish, not even from your own family. As you walked along the pathway with your friend, ready to part ways as she headed toward her car, one of your classmates from biology passed by you.
“Oh, Y/N! Happy birthday, by the way!” You remembered having a conversation with your lab partner about this as she continued walking on her way.
“Thanks!” you replied. Your “friend” wore a surprised expression as the guilt spread to her cheeks and ears. You paid no mind and continued on your way home, not even surprised by the fact that she didn’t follow you.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you got on the bus, completely devastated by what happened today. You paid no mind to the sympathetic looks strangers gave you and continued home.
As you unlocked the door to your apartment, you dreaded Seungcheol seeing you in tears, but to your surprise, the apartment seemed empty. The only light on was the one that hung over the kitchen counter.
Ready to end this awful day, you were headed straight to your bedroom before a box on the counter caught your eye. As you inched up, you continued to sniffle before realizing what was in the box.
“Happy Birthday Y/N,” read the blueberry cheesecake that lay fresh in the box. On the bottom corner were the words, “-your asshole of a roommate.”
You couldn’t contain your tears of joy. Out of everyone that forgot, your mean roommate remembered. With your belongings still in your hands, you made your way to your roommate’s room, hoping he’d be home. You pushed through the door to find him lying in his bed facing away from you, watching something on his phone.
“Seungcheol?” you whispered. He turned around, slightly confused at first, before he clearly saw you in all of your tears.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, concern mixed with confusion.
You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “It's just... today was supposed to be special, but no one remembered my birthday. Not my friends, not my family. It felt like no one cared.”
Seungcheol frowned. "I saw you on campus earlier. I could tell something was off. You looked really down."
You nodded, tears still streaming down your face. "Yeah, it was hard to keep it together. I tried to stay positive, but it was just so disappointing."
His expression slowly became understanding. Despite his urge to crack a mean joke, he slowly opened his arms as an invitation for you. For some reason, it just felt right. You crawled into his arms as he held you close, still teary-eyed from all of the emotions.
“Thank you, Seungcheol,” you said as the warmth of his embrace began to melt away your pain. You could feel his heart beating steadily under your ear, helping you feel grounded.
He held you a little tighter, his chin resting gently on the top of your head. "Listen, I know I can be an asshole at times," he began, his voice soft and sincere, "but I really do appreciate you. I guess I just don’t know how to behave around you."
You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine concern and a hint of vulnerability that he usually kept well-hidden. "Why do you say that?" you asked curiously.
Seungcheol sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I don’t know, Y/N. Maybe it’s because I’ve never been good at expressing my feelings, or maybe it’s because... well, because I care about you more than I let on."
Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. "You care about me?" you repeated, as if needing reassurance.
He nodded, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I do. I might not show it the best way, but I do."
The tears that had been threatening to fall now did so freely.
"You remembered my birthday," you said.
Seungcheol chuckled softly. "Of course I did. How could I forget? I know today didn’t go the way you wanted, but I wanted to make sure you knew that someone cares. Even if that someone is me.”
You laughed through your tears. "You’re not so grumpy all the time," you teased, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.
"Don’t spread that around. I’ve got a reputation to maintain," he joked.
You settled back into his arms, feeling more at ease than you had all day. "Thank you for the cake. It means a lot. It’s my favorite too.”
"Anytime, Y/N. Anytime," he replied with his comforting voice.
As you lay there in his arms, the events of the day began to fade away. Now all you could think about was what your future might be like with this kinder, mushier side of your roommate.
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