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#but literally every song by them makes me want to create it almost makes me mad because what kind of voodoo magic is that
mllemaenad · 3 days
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So – Bethesda broke Fallout 4's script extender. Because of course they did. What better way to celebrate the release of your new TV show than to stall people's ongoing playthroughs? Excellent work. I don't even want an Enclave quest. It's Creation Club nonsense, so it won't actually be a proper quest anyway.
I want to finish my Sim Settlements 2 playthrough. Ugh.
So while I'm waiting for the dust to settle on that, I thought I'd give Fallout 76 another go. I am rebuilding my mod list for Fallout 3, but that's a work in progress. And Fallout 76 is right there.
I created a new character, because I haven't played this thing in ages and I know they've changed a bunch of the mechanics. And oh - ha. I mean, I had thought from the beginning that creating a game without NPCs was a terrible idea, because it's hard to invest in saving an empty world. But the addition of them makes playing the game's original main quest a distinctly bizarre experience.
I don't mean that I'm suddenly pro-empty world. Not at all. In general the presence of factions and personalities and people you can care about it a good thing.
But when they made this game, the writers and quest designers were given "empty world" as a parameter within which they had to work. And they did.
It's sort of an interesting, even bold, choice for a storyline because it does not allow you to feel good about yourself at all. Most Fallout games do. Oh, you can play evil if you want, sure, and there are a handful of side quests that are genuinely no win scenarios. But mostly? You can save the world. And you will probably have a better experience if you try to: there's more to do when you talk to the NPCs and deal with their problems rather than just murdering everyone and taking their stuff.
But Fallout 76 is just judging you.
I keep thinking about its promotional song – that really upbeat cover of Take Me Home, Country Roads, and all the imagery in the old trailer, about rebuilding and looking to the future. But all of that is functionally a lie, and the key lines in that song come towards the end:
I hear her voice in the mornin' hour, she calls me The radio reminds me of my home far away Drivin' down the road, I get a feelin' That I should've been home yesterday, yesterday – Take Me Home, Country Roads
You should have been home yesterday. You should have been home a thousand yesterdays ago. This story is all about the past, and a rebuilding effort you neglected to join. It hits you with the guilt straight away, as the very first place the game takes you is an old outpost of emergency service personnel who just kept on doing their jobs after the bombs fell. It's their notes and recordings that teach you how to survive.
Of course you encounter less pleasant people later: raiders and Enclave, and honestly I have little patience for any iteration of The Brotherhood of Steel. But even there, you can see that the misunderstandings and conflicts and general fuck ups might have been resolved with a competent mediator.
And that is exactly what you are. You're a Fallout protagonist. You don't have the time to spend ten years sitting in a lab, but you excel at travelling from town to town and dealing with whatever obstacle is stopping a faction from moving forward. Fallouts 1-4 and assorted spin offs have taught us all that.
Even in universe, Vault 76 is stated to be full of literal geniuses. It is packed with doctors and scientists and engineers: exactly the people the world needed to deal with a combination of plague and environmental crisis.
If you were there, you could have fixed this.
But you were not there. You were sitting comfortably in a vault, while other, better people tried to save the world.
And they were almost there. They had a vaccine. Even with everything, they had a vaccine. They did the work, they had a plan. As you play through this quest, you stand upon the shoulders of giants at almost every stage, implementing the very last step in a plan that really does work. Had they lived, even a few months longer ... but they didn't, and you did nothing to help them.
It wasn't even necessary to spend 25 years in that vault, as it is abundantly clear that the area around 76 has been habitable this whole time. Challenging, sure: I am in no way suggesting that it was an easy existence. But it was not instant irradiated death.
Every other Fallout protagonist steps out of their vault (or other entry scenario) in time to make things right. Maybe just in time, but nevertheless. They walk into a fractured world and get to work. But not you. You took the easy route.
How proud are you of that Best Dental Hygiene award now?
Given that it is set so close to the Great War, and deals with first generation survivors, it gives one of the best looks at the cynical cruelty of Vault-Tec: when they talk about rebuilding the world, it only means rebuilding for its own benefit and profit. Anyone not part of their plan is more than welcome to die in a hole.
It ties in very nicely with the television series, actually. Lucy laments that she was waiting to rebuild the world, but it all happened without her - and Vault-Tec actively tried to destroy that new world (and at least up to a point, seems to have succeeded). Her people waited over 200 years, but it didn't take that long. Twenty-five were quite enough.
But with the new version ... I mean, it really takes the sting out of it. It looks like everybody had a few rough years there, but it's all turned out fine. There's a burgeoning civilisation here, with homesteads and caravans and trade. I can't go two steps without an NPC asking to borrow a bobby pin, and even the raiders are more territorial than outright destructive (although – is nobody going to go up that completely safe little hill and give poor Miguel a funeral? Come on guys, clean up the damn corpses).
The tragedy of the whole thing, and the weight of your own inaction, is largely gone. You can't reshape the world and still make the same impact with that narrative.
I don't know, I guess I just can't quite get behind the whole multiplayer-ness of the thing. The world can't really change as you complete quests. You can't really rebuild. But likewise, if the world does change, it has to change for everyone at the same time, regardless of where they are in the story.
It could still work, I think, if you could play through that story and then see the caravans come over the hill, and start to rebuild the world.
Because that might feel a bit like redemption.
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tmgmrk · 8 months
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Finally made a header and gave in to my urges to make 5sos merch. Most of my art is actually inspired by their music even if you can't tell, like, at all, haha. The mysteries of life. (冫༵、)
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zooophagous · 1 year
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So why do you hate the advertising industry?
Hokay so.
Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.
I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.
I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.
Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.
Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.
Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.
I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.
And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.
Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.
Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.
And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.
Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.
It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.
It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.
And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.
Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.
Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.
However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.
I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.
Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.
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motimatcha · 3 months
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the Forbidden fruit
NSFW: headcanons about your sex life. hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader That feeling when my drafts are almost halfway through the smut with Adam that I wanted to write, but at the last minute I stopped liking that text, so I switched to something else. Everything is (not) good. I wrote this text while listening to Landon Tewers - She Thinks of Me. the meaning of the song is not at all important and has nothing to do with the lyrics, I just liked the melody.
Adam has beautiful hands. Aesthetic. When he takes off his clothes and folds his arms across his chest, rests them on a surface, or carries heavy objects, his veins appear.
His fingers are thin and well-groomed, long, like those of a pianist, which Adam never was.
Just imagine the contrast it has on you during sex. His rough, sometimes wild, character and gentle movements of his hands that slide over your entire body while he whispers all sorts of dirty things in your ear. Imagine those hands touching your hips, squeezing your skin gently but noticeably to make you feel excited and excited, and then with a knee-baring grin, he leaves you unsatisfied.
Adam can and loves to tease. His hands pass dangerously close to your sensitive places, and his words are full of subtext and hints, which are sometimes not covered at all. And because many are accustomed to the character of Adam, who speaks complete nonsense, no one pays attention to the fact that Adam literally said that he would fuck you against that wall before entering heaven.
Adam sure has a sexy morning voice. He can lie on his back, finally finding a comfortable position without his wings getting in the way, one of his arms wedged under your body and resting on your side. He brushes the hair that is falling into his face back before turning his head in your direction. A smirk graces Adam’s face as he rolls onto his side and pulls you closer to him, allowing your two hot bodies to grind against each other. Adam wakes you up with a kiss behind your ear, slowly lowers himself to your neck and whispers some nonsense to you, but you don’t wake up or pretend to be asleep, he takes it as a challenge and the hand from your hip slowly slides down, straight into yours underpants.
Adam likes the cowgirl position when he's too tired but still wants you. This gives you both an imaginary sense of control: you control the speed of the process, Adam controls the movement of your hips.
He likes to look at your hips and butt, whether in tight pants/high-waisted shorts or skirts/dresses that contour your figure. Adam basically likes to look at you in tight clothes, style doesn't matter as long as you like it. Besides that, he likes to see his dick penetrate your body slowly or quickly (well, I mean, he likes to watch your pussy swallow his dick, let's be honest). He loves watching your breasts bounce rhythmically as you move. He loves the feeling of your fingers on his chest as you lean against him, finding a comfortable position.
If you don't mind having Adam's dick in you without having sex, then please allow him. He is overwhelmed by a feeling of unity that has not visited him since the time of Lilith and Eve.
Not against quick sex (or blowjob).
Speaking of fetishes, Adam loves creampies and he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s flattered by the idea of ​​impregnating you. And the latter is not so much a fetish as his sacred duty, because he seemed to be created for this? First man, first man and all that. However, if you can't get pregnant (or it's your mutual desire not to have children due to your lifestyle), he still loves creampies.
Adam loves to leave his marks on you: hickeys and bites, especially on your neck, arms, collarbones, chest, hips... In general, wherever he can reach with his mouth and lips. Adam likes to do this not only because he finds it sexy, but because of his insecurity. He had two wives who went to a dwarf duck! Somewhere in the subcortex of consciousness, Adam wants every living and dead soul to see that you are already busy with him and minding your own business.
Adam will probably let you do anything (within reason and as long as he feels like he's in a dominant position) if you praise him during sex or tell him you wouldn't choose anyone else over him. This will upset him.
I'm not sure exactly what word is supposed to mean what I'm about to say next (at least I've seen it called "happy way", but I can't be sure), but Adam has a faint trail of hair from his belly button to the groin. And although he takes care of himself (if you ask, he doesn’t care until it starts to get in the way), but he will never remove this particular hair.
His cock is worth forgetting about toys. So are his fingers.
Adam doesn't have a favorite place to have sex, but he prefers you to be alone. Teasing in public is a whole different story!
If you want to quickly excite Adam, then touch his wings. But this should not be a light touch to the tips of his feathers, but a targeted stroking of the growth area of ​​​​the wings and between the shoulder blades.
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yveaart · 4 months
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how to lose a guy in 10 days — csc
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choi seungcheol x reader
genre : fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, jealousy (?), fake relationship, bets (yk how the movie goes), profanities
synopsis : you had to prove to your friends that you could easily make a guy lose interest within a week, having no interest in indulging yourself in a relationship after your past ones. all those relationships led you to narrow down a list on how to make a guy sick of you. you had all the card in your hands and seems like you don’t get to play it.
warnings : mdni, proceed with causion bc this is my first actual svt fic it might be shitty. not proofread lol, reminder that this is my take on the plot and it will not flow the exact same plots in the movie
i do not feel so confident about this bc i wrote this with mind in shambles. literally me comforting myself with svt while i'm dying from my studies rn :') pls tell me if you like it bc i would most def appreciate it <3
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it was another slow day at work when you sat down at your desk and sighed. all your work mates and friends seems to confide in your reaction but your circle knew that this sigh wasn’t a “damn-im-so-stressed-and-sick-of-work-sigh” for them it was more of a “wow-life-is-hectic-its-almost-making-me-want-a-man”
and just like clockwork their brains clicked and hovered over your cubicle. poor u so startled that you almost gagged on your coffee.
“what?” you shooted
“are we gonna meet boyfriend number 13?” karina said in a sing song voice
“more like fling number 17?” sakura retorted
“maybe a first situationship since she haven’t experienced one yet” yunjin said curiously
“jesus christ i’ve had that much men and i’m not gay yet?” you said surprised
“maybe you just need a new set up?” yunjin asked
“like what doggy style?” karina questioned
“not like that you idiot” sakura glared
“maybe i’m just meant to end up in a church and dedicate my life to holiness” you huffed
“please you would burn the moment you step in a cathedral” sakura laughed
“well i just know how every relationships end, it’s almost like completing all endings for a video game, its predictable and cliche” you sighed
“let’s welcome fling number 17 then” karina announced
“i’m too tired for just fucks you know? it won’t take long before i actually get infection and i turn into a zombie and bite you all from all these stupid ideas” you rolled your eyes at your friends.
right now you just actually need to see if theres a guy out there in the world who could actually commit and actually accept a persons flaws out of love.
all too cheesy but you would like to find a partner who would find no flaws in you and probably just call them your little unique antiques that they can live with.
you were so sick on seeing tutorials or manifestation hacks on the internet because does anyone genuinely love each other anymore? all these “how to become a maneater”, “how to make them dream of you”, “how to make him fall in love using a potion” bullshit got you sick of people now.
why did god even create men to accompany themselves if they’re preferences and expectations are for the deities taste themselves.
“OH MY GOD I GOT IT!” yunjin screamed making all your peers look over to your area
“what is it?” you asked dying for a solution
“what if you meet a guy and just unfling him?” she said as if there was a light bulb above her head
“yall need to make her stop doing overtime” sakura deadpanned
“NOO, like you’re talking all these commitment things all the time then what if you find a random guy and make him not fall in love with you and see if he stays?” she said
“so like i should go out being an annoying red flag and see if he stays?” you giggle but it all went away when all your friends kind of agreed because they’re also sick of u having these guy problems already.
“i guess thats not all bad” karina suggests
“you should wear your best outfit tonight because we will find your lucky target then y/nnie” sakura winked at you before discussing the plans with yunjin and karina
it was not long until the night came as you got ready, you scoffed on how stupid this bet is because it’s like you claimed “very predictable and cliche” to lose a guy.
it was then your friends picked you up and pulled up to the bar. a few shots came by as you hustled through the crowd searching for your so called the one. but as you surf through the tables everyone fell short to your friends standards as if it was a big serious thing.
you grew tired, what was the point, you knew your fate then you should probably accept it now.
you drank your last shot for tonight planning your weekend with whole lots of tubs of ice cream until you flinched by karina grabbing your arm.
“him” she said, audible enough for the three of you to hear. you faced the guy she was referring to as all the noice fade into the background blur hearing yunjin screech and them clapping happily, your time froze.
the most goddamn, drop dead gorgeous man came to sight.
“isn’t that choi seungcheol?” sakura stating a rhetorical question
“they said no one could ever bag him up” yunjin replied
“ooh sounds like one of y/n’s guys” karina giggled.
“are you up for it then?” sakura challenged you
“please this will probably come by a breeze, so? 100 bucks each?” you winked as the three of them agrees after a total chaos.
“choi seungcheol, let the games begin” you muttered
on the other side of the bar there was a crowded group of 13 people who were mindlessly taking shot over shot as they were crowned as the most obnoxiously loud people for the night.
most of them spitting out tipsy thoughts to one another as they joined forces on pinning and choosing choi seungcheol as the victim for tonight.
“here comes the virgin joseph for tonight, choi seungcheol!” dk hooted while hoshi was giggling to any phrases the latter would make out
“isn’t it mary though?” joshua pondered drunkly on the edge of the couch munching on the nuts hoping it would make him sober as it was too early to go home.
“whatever, we still get the point. so what’s with the anti-women behavior cheol?” jeonghan grinned. his smile too wide to seem oblivious of the answer.
“i think dating is now deemed predictable to me,every woman i dated either wants my money, my body, fame, or a father figure” cheol sighed deeply
“wait you’re a dad?” dino’s brows furrowed in deep confusion as cheol stood there with utter disbelief
“i thought we we’re supposed to have a fun hangout today, and now all of you are just looking like alcoholics with all these bottles in our table” seungcheol complained
“WHO ARE YOU CALLING ALCOHOLICS?!” mingyu exclaimed looking at the opposite direction of where cheol was.
“FUCKER I DIDNT CALL YOU ANYTHING” minghao retorted to a confused mingyu facing him causing cheol to place a palm over his forehead.
“how about you start charming women for who you truly are?” vernon continuing the passed topic.
cheol didnt know if he was thankful for vernon re entering a topic, all the “seemingly” sober people joined up on the topic. they soon somehow convinced cheol to meet new people and try making them fall in love with him.
kkuma needed a mom, maybe he did too (but not in a maternal sense
“i doubt scoups can make a girl fall in love with him” dino giggled in the verge of passing out.
“i sure can ! it’s like a walk in the park” seungcheol defended.
“not even within a month” jeonghan added
“not even a week” jun stared blankly.
seungcheol always had placed his pride on a pedestal, it’s the source of his cocky behavior.
“oh please, give me 10 days it would be like she’s under a love spell” cheol snickered blanketing his bruised ego.
“deal, i bet 20 that we’ll have another meeting on the 10th day having cheol drop dead drunk at thus exact spot” jeonghan screamed only standing for the first time for the night.
it was chaos after that, but the group was almost divided equally in the process of them making bets and weighing the odds of cheol’s fate.
seungcheol wished the ground opened its jaws and buried him six feet under
even he was lying to himself with his statement, but one thing about choi seungcheol— he always wins.
“i’m gonna head home now” cheol said, he wish he didn’t.
he somehow wished that they were all too drunk to force him into the grave he dug himself. mercy will be the end of their bond, so as fate has written cheol’s fortune.
“i guess cheol is accepting his pussy title” jeonghan sighed
“i am not a pussy” cheol responded
“then i guess you’ll have to prove that” joshua sighed blankly at him
“let’s start by choosing the lucky girl who’s gonna take cheol’s v card”
“i’m not even a virgin” cheol rebutted with a frown, the liquor making him submit to his true emotions.
“please you barely lost it” dk laughed
“well i barely felt it….” cheol muttered
“let’s do her” dino pointed at the wall as he stood quickly stumbling with his head spinning
“who’s he pointing at? did he shave his eyes as well?” woozi said laughing
“shut up pink panty guy, i’m talking about the girl that has red hair and wearing a black dress” dino said laying on the floor
“ooh, she looks hot like seungcheol’s type” jun teased
if he didn’t spot your bright auburn hair he would’ve sworn to himself that these guys we’re just throwing a hate crime at him, but god, you we’re his type.
“go on mr. choi, show us your charm” mingyu pushing cheol closer to your area in the bar
you were planning on stepping up, but you had to make one thing sure, so you turned around to your friends with burgundy rushing through your cheeks with the thrill throwing you into your pit of endless thoughts.
“makeup, and outfit : perfect” yunjin started with a wide grin
“hair : gorgeous and can easily make a ponytail” karina winked as you glared at her
“teeth clean and ready for sucking” sakura smiled
jesus christ you were asking for a reality check and they just simply can’t avoid adding scandalous statements as if that’s all you do.
you were ready
were?
are?
was?
fuck.
you backed up quickly as you saw a guy charging at your direction ready to barf up on you.
quick arms catches your moving physique, as your back became dependent on the person unbeknownst to you.
two groups filled your senses with squeals, laughing and cheering waking you up from your not so cute dilemma
you turned to the person behind you seeing the man of the night
choi seungcheol.
“you okay, sweetheart?” his voiced hush, you felt warm and you swore that is was just the buzz from the liquor
quickly you went to work
“omg thankyou o-oppa” you’re voice cracked because you simply cannot believe the words that escaped your lips.
there was terror in his eyes, the moment you saw it, it went away. a pretty grin was graced upon your lips because this will be one hell of a ride
he better be sure to keep his seatbelts on because you’re gonna totally rock his world.
day 1 : the tortoise and the hare
spoiler, the hare never wins
guys hate being speedy, if they’re looking for a woman they can take home to his mom it would definitely not be the woman who wants to be dicked down after the first date.
and this wasn’t even a date
he took you to his place after your so called friends left the both of you in the landmine
he only intended you to sober up, and you only wanted him to curse you off his life. but it would be no fun if you just did it in a day, wouldn’t it?
the sound of the collision of class and marble led to both of your eyes to be met.
“thank you, really, or what else i would’ve smelled like vodka and whatever the fuck that person just ate” you sighed in relief genuinely
“no worries, you don’t smell like barf or vodka…. maybe a little of tequila but you’re good” he smiled
fuck. he’s hot and he knows it, a part of you wished that he was some sort of narcissist so you could do this thing in a easier way.
his face sculpted and graced with beauty his eyes filled with wisdom and maturity, his lips full and shaded like cherries.
you we’re definitely down to have a fling with him, but according to you, you were planning to change your ways and test the purpose and ability of men.
“mhm, i’m tired let’s watch a movie?” you smiled with your forced high-pitched voice
you love how he would hide the way his face would wince when you talk or the way his jaw slacked on your statement.
you smiled at the thought of him trying to take you out of his multi-million mansion because you were pushing boundaries he built for you
“yeah.. sure, what do you wanna watch?” he assisted you by the waist as he brought you up the stairs.
you wanted to get out, you wouldn’t think that it would go like this. fuck the boys manual maybe it doesn’t work with hot rich guys
“the notebook, i LOVE that movie” you smiled and you could see how he expected that
as you laid in his sheets, which you felt deeply sorry for actually staining his pearly and silky shits with your outside clothes, but your pride held you high. if you fell from your pride or for him then maybe then you could wash his sheets.
the room was dimly lit, the ambience warm as he intended.
he sat next to you, with distance for respect according to cheol’s brain.
you couldn’t predict him, and maybe he sends mix signals, and that made you feel less guilty because you concluded that he’s a womanizer. he knew all of these antics a little too well.
“it’s getting hot” you sighed fanning your face adjusting your dress to the right extent, you held your hair exposing your neck to him making sure he saw it.
"really? my ac is so low right now" he was surely acting oblivious.
you may be frustrated at him for not taking your hits but you guess it would make a good build up, meanwhile he was there dumbfounded from all the tricks you pulled, he was slowly getting hard but that's another story.
he was thinking if he should drop it, it seemed like you just wanted a one night stand, but speaking of the devil (angel) jeonghan sent him a text showing him how much money he would be getting if he proved them wrong.
somehow in the end all of his friends were convinced that he would stay bitchless. there was a whole chapter within their groupchat making fun of what he said earlier at the bar.
truth be told, he didn't give a fuck about the money, he wanted his dignity and pride back.
"my body is so warm because of all the shots i took though" you reasoned out quickly.
"well my body is really cool right now" he faced you slowly pulling you close but you had other plans
you quickly kissed him as if you were desperate for it.
"mmm- i think we should slow down y/n" he rushed to tell you.
you wanted to grin so bad, victory laid on your side, but you had to put a sad face asking him if he no longer likes you repeatedly as he escorted you out of his house.
you quickly twirled and skipped across the road when you were sure he was inside already. he was there though, watching through his window.
maybe he had to step up.
day 2 : the in-laws
there was not a single text on cheols phone the next morning, soon learning your phone was inside the purse you left at his house.
he wanted to scan your purse thinking of a way to sweep you off your feet today. but a gentleman doesn't mess with a ladies purse.
after the the long chat you had last night, you exchanged your details to each other which now led cheol to your apartment building with flowers and a wide smile.
"hi i got these for you-"
"wait cheollie, say hi to your mom !" you cut him off with a smile
his face quickly shifting, you what?! he was slowly shaking on the inside quickly settling down your purse, flowers on your coffee table.
"h-hi mommm" he grinned as if his mom could see him.
"seungcheol i didn't raise you to hide your partners from me like this, i really like y/n you know, so when's the wedding?" his mom ushered
"a wedding?" you gasped and started screeching as if it was real
"we'll see mom haha.." he replied deranged from the situation made just 2 minutes ago. he quickly hung up before his mom could get any more ideas.
"well that was interesting, i didn't know that you knew my mom" he restrained himself from losing himself.
"well i have to meet your parents anyways right, cheollie?" you smiled at him
"yeah, but we just met yesterday" he deadpanned
"well, you don't think we're gonna work out" you started sobbing in front of him making small obnoxious hiccups
"well that's not what i meant baby" he hushed and spent the afternoon babying you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
day 3 : monday flings
"i seriously cannot fathom how much patience he has to reach day 3" you genuinely lay your opinion
"i was a complete total psycho, but he must be mental" you said to yourself
"that's fucking crazy because if i had to put up with that you would never hear from me again" sakura said bluntly which bruised and praised you at the same time
"i need a break from my alter ego as well, i hope he has no plans on asking me on anything anymore at least"
the day went as if you had never met choi seungcheol at all, which made you relieved for at least having a rest day, sure it was such a short time but god how tiring it was to be somebody else
"i just really realized how to fit in somebody else's shoes" you sighed as you and your friends exited the building together ready to go home and simply pass out.
"then don't fucking wear them" karina said
"but this is the whole point, being a stereotypical woman in a relationship"
you all soon parted in your own ways as you walked through the neighborhood near yours, you realized you just walked passed by seungcheol's house and this made you walk a bit faster and try to fabricate your distinguishable looks. but guess what
"aw baby don't hide from me" he coos slowly pulling you in his embrace.
"i was just looking for you" he smiled as he rushed you into his home
you somehow wished he could just stab you right now.
he led you to his living room filled with rose petals and candles dedicating a whole playlist of his vinyl records for you. you spent the evening sharing his home cooked dinner, which was actually delicious. and he soon brought out his photo albums from when he was a kid.
"do you think our children look just like you?' your sentence made you freak out but you supressed it wanting him to be affected by your vicious visions.
"how about we go back about the marriage thing for now" he faked out a laugh.
"i want this to be our family's house too" you sighed in content while scanning the architectural structure.
"if that's what you want" he smiled and pecked your forehead, which had caught you by a surprise.
"it is" you smiled, you didn't want to admit it but something formed within you when he said that.
"i'll be having a boys night tomorrow so i might not respond quickly to your texts"
"is it strictly 'boys only' ?" you asked forming an idea and swallowing these funny feelings that have bloomed within you.
"well it had always been"
day 4 : poker night
if fate was inevitable, they should you hit you up then.
you were in a cab with your hands filled with cheol's place in mind.
"cheol having a 4 day record is worth celebrating" jeonghan teased
"it's been that long?" mingyu asked actually impressed
"i've been in a lot of relationships since college, stop making it seem like im a loser" he sighed
"probably just in college" minghao retorted
"it's probably going well, maybe next year she could meet his parents" seungkwan noted
"please, she met them the second day we met" cheol answered scoffing at the thought
"now i know why girls are driven away from you" jun cringed at cheol
"she called them herself the day we met, she even said that our children will live here, and she tried to sleep with me the first day we met !" cheol finally shared his experience the past few days
"ooh feisty and a woman with a plan, that's so horanghae coded" hoshi smiled reaching his palms out and curling the ends of her fingers.
"you're going delusional again hamster" minghao smacked the back of hoshi's head causing the latter to relieve it by rubbing his head.
"maybe cheol could get laid now with her bold behavior, someone who can tame mr. pride-over-pants-down-choi-seungcheol over here" joshua said
"she's just a bet-"
the violent reactions that flashed through the faces of his group-mainly cheol when you came in the door in the middle of the game.
the guys quickly recovered teasing cheol for being so attached already calling her over for a boys night.
"hi guys!!" you said excitingly trying on your best cute expression you could muster up while hoshi replied to you with the horanghae pose as you quickly reciprocated it.
"i just thought i could put some of my stuff here so you could always remember me cheollie" your eyes twitching the moment your face was parallel with the wall
cheol was in awe with the first few vases you put out, until there were at lest 13 in his living room only. his house looking like he was out there selling urns
you were going around his place disrupting them, even changing their ambient music into some of britney spear's playlist
and even making very concerning screams around the kitchen just behind the living room.
"cheollie, can you get me some water" you whined when you heard them telling cheol it was his turn
he caught you reaching out unto the cupboards for a glass, he quickly got you what you requested and leaving you there
you were quick to grab onto his arm and grab the cigarette out of his mouth.
"you need to stop smoking" you tell him genuinely, his demeanor sensing your honesty his brows rested as he gave you a smile.
"i need to keep my lungs healthy for our children huh?" he teased you with a knowing smile
day 5 : ghosting
after his game with the boys, you two spent so much time together after.
he was being sulky after receiving his first losing game last night from all your disruptions last night.
but he never mentioned you being a nuisance, and just maybe because it was stored somewhere deep his chest the frustrations he held
but you stayed clingy to him filling him up with your presence even when you already went home flooding his texts until it was dawn
today you decided to stay low, you were lying in wait in this part of the plan
by doing so much the past few days today you decided to give ghosting a shot
"god i just wanna die if i need to go through this just to find a decent human being" you sighed frustrated at yourself
you wish you could stop now, there was 150 bucks on the line
or this is what you thought that hindered from you from stopping, you stared longingly on your laptop
quickly dialing his number you grinned at the sound of his voice
day 6 : a large iced diet coke and a kiss to go
today you planned on watching a knicks game with cheol, it was both your favorite thing to watch.
the stadium filled with cheers as you were shaking with thrill watching the tight game among your favorite team handling each other by the neck
most of the game went well according to cheol
during the break the venue managers continued to do the kiss cam.
you were interested looking at random people sharing affection through this stupid camera. but you didn't know it would face you.
you saw your face light up with surprise as the other guy next to you exposed on the kiss cam
you were looking at him
"i'm-" the guy was cut off when seungcheol grabbed you by the nape sealing your lips with his plush ones, the camera then panning to the both of you instead of you and the other guy.
"you weren't in the kiss cam" you said smiling- wait no don't.
"well i was just now" he said cockily
"i'm not gonna let you kiss him when i'm here" he said and that lit a fire within you
the final part of the game resumed as you both were cheering wildly through the crowds
it was time.
you asked cheol to bring you coke since you were extremely famished according to your words.
cheol quickly glanced at you, the bottom of the stadium, on the scoreboard, and back to your eyes.
he quickly ran getting you the drink that you wanted.
"i cant drink too much sugar though i need the diet one" his face turning into a distressed one jogging back up the long steep flights of stairs as he huffed to the vendor that you wanted the coke one, being only available to watch the game through the small monitor by the ceiling
there was about 3 minutes left, your team still having time to win over
he rushed back to you quickly handing you your coke, but there was another thing-
"i need ice cheollie" you whined at him, he groaned but still went over to do it
only a few moments left before the game ends the vendor still working on you precious drink, seungcheol staring at the monitor.
you felt bad, like actually. but you had to keep this up
you were enjoying the game until you were drowned in your thoughts on how you were ever gonna ask for his forgiveness after all this
you were a bitch and get over your act.
the crowd calling out through your ears realizing your favored team won, you had to force a smile especially a lovely one at cheol to make him think you were being a menace
maybe if you pushed him enough you could end this sooner, you can't admit that he was charming, handsome, and his behavior is no less than how a gentleman should act.
sorry coups.
the game ended, you were exiting the venue with cheol as his arm around your shoulder quickly calling you a cab home.
"thank you for this babe" you smiled passing him the cup, hoping you were rude enough for him to not call you up anymore
"no problem, you gave me your other ticket to watch with you anyway" he smiled pecking you before you left.
he crumpled the cup and threw it away.
day 7 : the revelation
you and cheol spent this day with a quick breakfast by the small cafe nearby, chatting through the busy streets of your city, he asked you to come to his event tomorrow which you accepted. after breakfast there were barely any interactions coming between the two of you.
why stay through this conditions?
well we bring you to the day 1
you were troubled writing your new article on the magazine company you were working for.
your boss expecting so much from you, you simply cannot write anything too political or anything controversial at all, so you stuck on to writing these stupid "how to" to articles which was a huge success for your company.
you were stuck, nothing to write, drafts filled with calling out peace for all countries experiencing genocide and territorial invasions or calling out to politicians who were legitimately caught only on scandalous events but never the seat of any meetings.
you were a writer a "how to girl", you swore you did it all and wrote them, how to talk your way out of a ticket, how to feng shui your apartment and even having those little tests you wrote printed by the magazine.
seungcheol was a lawyer, he stayed in his grandfathers law firm, his grandfather desperate for him to get wed and have a family who will take care of the firm and would take care of him as well.
seungcheol's grandfather knew his luck in love, so he prayed that even when he passes, his grandson will still have someone to be with.
day 8 : pride over love
cheol came over to your place at dusk seeing you with your flattering yellow dress with a backless cut on the back.
he was stunned by your beauty, his hand leading to his chest.
"my god" he whispered to himself as he paced closer to you
"you're gorgeous" he smiled as he kissed your temple
"you don't look to bad yourself" you grinned at him
you decided to stay in your apartment for a while as you settled a few of your stuff before you leave
he glanced over your record player and fidget over your albums then he finally sat down digesting the whole essence of your place, it was hard for him to stay still thinking that you were some dumb bet but he knew you were more than that, he knew you we're attractive but the breeze tonight was only revealing your true selves to each other.
you came in the room with your purse settling it by the coffee table as your favorite song came by, you couldn't help but singing along to it
and other girls dreamed that they'd be cheol's partner
they'd be cheol's partner and
you're so vain
you probably think this song is about you
and then you both exploded in to giggles proceeding to do silly dances before heading out.
you both arrive at an immaculately decorated building, you could already hear all the people chattering inside the building making a light buzz on your ears
"cheol, you should come meet our new stockholder" his coworker ushered him as he looked at you with slight worry
"i'll be fine you should go" you pushed him lightly and he just nodded at you making a phone call sign telling u to call him if anything happens
it was a while when you were just sitting by the bar drinking your nth drink for the night, it wasn't your intention to do so, but that was the only thing that can occupy you. you didn't want to bother cheol on his night so you stayed lowkey.
you weren't drunk but you rethink because you didn't know why seungcheol's grandfather ushering you to talk to him.
"so i heard that you have been seeing my grandson" he started
"oh yeah i am" you politely answered, guilt wrapping you up when you realized that you were only feigning everything.
"i'm glad that he told me about a girl he goes out with, he barely tells me anymore because they don't last long" he giggled
"oh really? i would expect him to be married by now actually" you joked with him
you felt comfortable around him, his friends, his relatives, and even his co workers, they really provided you with a nice environment.
"i'm happy that you stayed with him even after knowing that you just started as a bet-"
"excuse me?" you were violated.
"i mean please excuse me i need to get some fresh air"
there was regret in mr.choi's face but it also held worry, was it true? you were a bet? what did he win for you? for this? what did he mean that you started as a bet?
you were furious, you knew you were also doing him wrong, but you felt bad for all of it.
it wasn't helping that you had to admit to yourself that you did like him. even through the fucked up situations you had this week, it was all messed up, fake.
but even in all that chaos, he was consistent, he was there.
now you're doubting if that was his acting as well
because now you were burning everywhere, because you knew you crossed the fine line along the feigned adoration over real devotion.
you adore choi seungcheol.
but now that meant nothing.
quick and heavy foot steps were heard behind you
"y/n!" cheol managed out with huffed breaths
you faced him with disdain painting your face.
“wow, you’re gonna run away after you defy me?” he laughed sarcastically, his face sullen his eyes filled with fury
“defy you? what about you making me a bet?” it dawned on him realizing that you knew about his faults too.
it was true, you did defy him, not that it was your choice, you had to do it for your job, you wrote about him, one of your how-to blog and magazine experiments.
how to lose a guy in 10 days
this was your last project being a part of this magazine line. you swore you couldn’t keep on using people for an article, you planned on being a journalist after quitting, after making him your last.
because after all, you love him.
your article could also be called “how to stupidly fall in love and find a man in 10 days”
“it was a bet at first, then i fell, but you just played me” he looked at you as if you just stabbed him straight to the chest
“what?” you said confused
“leave. i don’t ever wanna see you anymore” he warned
“didn’t know you could stoop so low, and don’t worry i will”
“how to lose a guy in 10 days huh?” he started “lucky you y/n because you just lost him” he uttered walking away.
the night turned completely upside down, both of your chests swelled with guilt, shame and anger.
your heart dropped, but you just swallowed you pride and left.
day 9 : drive me out of town
quickly packing your things to leave, you won’t do any good here now that everything is tainted by the man you met just a little more than a week ago.
you spent your whole day just wallowing the sadness from your love life leaving your friends, your apartment.
you published that article about choi seungcheol to have income before you left your low life and start as a struggling journalist to do what you always wanted, to write about more important things
conventional, innovative, a cry of the oppressed.
but people seemed to worry if blondes were more fun than brunettes.
you truly regret using him, but you both did the wrong things to the write people, only fate knew that.
you rode your cab ready to leave this damned city to move to another identical one.
the familiar streets slowly blurred into the abyss of the distance as you called your friends and relatives one by one just catching up and telling them little life updates.
you were sad, but you knew that seungcheol is probably feeling a lot more than you were.
the darkness of the sky basked you a sense of comfort, there’s always a new day.
you wished him peace.
it was a fault writing about him and confessing about you felt at the same time, but he deserved the last bit if honesty left to your fake situationship.
a raging motorcycle suddenly honks at your vehicle endlessly. your cab giving way but it seemed like it wasn’t what the motor rider meant
“OH MY GOD PLEASE STOP” you told the cab driver when you realized it was cheol’s bike.
was he planning to run you over?
you got out displaying yourself in front of the man you loved.
“y/n, it was all true” he said taking his helmet off he huffed tiredly but not slowing down his pace to get close to you
“what are you saying?”
“i liked you that’s why i agreed with the bet, hoping you would like me back, even though your personality was hard to work with” he laughed to himself
“why are you saying this? why now?”
“maybe i flipped the page too quick not seeing that you loved me as well”
“love”
“what?”
“i still love you” you whispered
“you won your bet a little too well mr.choi seungcheol”
“i love you too, and i don’t care if you pull your annoying your girl antics i still love you”
“that wasn’t me” you laughed
“well there was a part of you who did it, and i love all of you” he smiled showing his gummy grin.
you couldn’t help but feel free, you weren’t stuck in that annoying girl’s body forcing the guy you love to hate you.
“kiss me, cheol” you teared up
he didn’t need to be told twice as he rushed to close the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing to yours savoring every inch of it. your head shifting in sync as you both connected not wanting to let go.
today’s day 1. the first day of making it real.
day 10 : my heart, it lies within yours.
passed 12 am
i guess you did actually lose your bet now with your friends. at day 10 choi seungcheol was plush against your skin his lips in yours, and your hands in his hair.
“i hate that you have me wrapped around your finger” he groaned onto your lips
“i hate that you actually won your stupid bet” you sighed
“i always win, and this feels so much better than winning” he said lifting you
your bags left on the floor the moment you reached his home, he told you to call it yours as well, from now on.
your silence didn’t last long when the both of you were longing for each other leading you up to this moment.
“hm so cocky huh?” you teased him as you started kissing down on his neck as he laid you on his bed.
you pulled down on his tie realizing he was so busy at work all day.
you kissed him once more and switching the positions that you were previously on as you climbed onto his lap and continued making out
your hands wandering on his hair and his hands on your ass.
your tongue interacting as he let you do whatever you want, his hands started wandering on your body leaving your skin burning for more.
your kiss being more needy as you started to grind on his hard on. he groaned onto your lips leaving you to grind harder.
you started to unbutton his clothes as he followed suit, removing yours as well.
he was pulling on his tie
“no” you stopped him
“keep it on love” you commanded
he could throw you and turn this around, but he didn’t. he enjoyed this a little too much, loving the feeling of being taken care of.
you both were left on your under garments except him having his tie on
he looked so hot having his tie rest on his smooth and hard muscles, his abs and pecs shining from the moonlight.
you continued grinding on him until he held your hips to stop.
“let me have you first please” he sighed as he laid you down on the bed as he knelt on the ground facing your crotch.
he looked at you as if he was asking if he could remove it and you nodded back at him.
his blonde hair a bit messy as you caressed it and tugging while he was removing your underwear
his face getting closer to your heat as he started kissing on your thighs slowly.
his lips then met with your clit as he sucked slowly then proceeding to lap on your entrance already making it soaking than it already was.
his tongue bending slightly when met with the entrance teasing it and slowly stretching it.
his right hand caressing around your waist as the left one kept it on your thigh refraining it from moving.
his fingers slowly worked his mouth as he slowly dipped one into your hole.
his finger was thick, 2 of your fingers were your frequently used ones, but his reached so much deeper, felt so fuller.
he hummed against your clit as vibrations flooded through your veins. he added another finger making you writhe and pull on his hair more.
you pulled him up kissing his plump lips before making him lay down on the bed.
you held his hands as you put it above his head, you weren’t intending to restrain them at all.
his biceps protruding so well when you raised it keeping it there as you licked and sucked on his neck slowly removing his boxers.
you wanted to cum with him tonight.
his eyes went dark seeing his large dick lining up to your entrance, he wanted you to ride him, he wanted to stare at your beautiful body while you felt pleasure because of him.
"no condom?" he asked heavily, he wanted it, he wanted this, but he also wants to make sure that you're doing what you desire, not wanting to make regrets again.
"i don't care, fill me up, make me pregnant" you said in a daze, but even without the lust you had right now, you still would say yes.
"fuck" he groaned hearing your words
his length standing tall, he was already so girthy, his tip leaking red.
he wanted to feel pleasure with you, not just sitting there like some fuck doll.
you lined the tip with your entrance as you slowly sunk down already feeling an enormous stretch.
"god your cock is so big" you moaned as you rested your head by his neck sucking there to distract yourself from the slight pain.
his hands went down to your waist as he pushed you further, taking him all in.
he was sent to paradise with your walls crashing to his length, engulfing it in its warmth
"your pussy was made just for me, love" he groaned as his hands guided your waist to ride him.
you were releasing moans as you rode him, it's as if he was still getting bigger inside you.
you then leaned back to your position staring at him with his tie, he looked so hot with his abs clenching every time you squeeze his dick, and how his sweat made it look like he was glowing.
he was laying back with the most drunk in lust face he got as he bit his lower lip just staring at you bouncing at him.
every curve of him filled you even more hitting the right spots that led you to your high in a few more moments.
you both released at the same time, but cheol was far from over with you
he flipped you around entering you in a missionary position, he was truly strong as he pumped himself in you with a new found energy hitting even deeper than before.
he caressed the bump his dick made deep on your stomach.
he made a guttural moan just by the thought of you being able to carry his children by the very belly he's fucking oblivion to.
you pulled onto his tie causing it to tighten a bit that he moaned. you kissed him sloppily as your saliva mixed and dripped to the side of your chin.
he went down leaving marks on your delicate skin, already having red marks on your neck, he made sure to give your tits some love.
he sucked onto your left one and massaged the one on your right, continuously flicking it. his other hand made its way to massage your clit, which made your back arch and scream his name.
"fuck seungcheol" you moaned
"seungcheol? i thought you called me cheollie" he smiled at you with a shit eating grin
you could barely even give a response, you were simply brain dead from all the pleasure you had.
his pace going faster and faster as massaged your clit to a higher intensity, you both were sent over the edge for the second time tonight.
he slowly removed his length, as your hole felt the emptiness you groaned. your mixed arousal slipping out of your pussy as cheol just stared at it.
he inserted two fingers fucking the cum back into her, you moaned at overstimulation, he continued fucking you with his fingers.
"aren't you doing too much mr. choi?" you glared at seungcheol.
"gonna make sure you keep all of it" he said as she shakes his head giggling.
you pulled him down onto the bed as you sat up stuffing your underwear in his mouth making him moan out loud.
"your turn?" you grinned.
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i felt like i could do better :") im sorry if this is bad.
taglist <3
@luchiet @sebongmochi @yawnseu @christinewithluv @musingsofananxiouspotato @raggedypansexual @90s-belladonna @nerdycheol @xcynthiaaa @inexistent-bluemind @jenoxygen @i-dont-give-a-fok @nmosyne @sleepzyy @justanarchiveforfics @springdaybreaks @k07-1313 @dunixxd
979 notes · View notes
haropla · 2 years
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the thing about hatsune miku is that she is quite literally a product you can buy. she and the other vocaloids (actual tm) are all voice synthesis software with some art attached for the sake of packaging and (at first) rudimentary marketing and anyone that has bought her can make her say/sing anything. and normally she’d be left at just that like the vocaloids preceding her like MEIKO, KAITO, LEON, LOLA, among others.
today she gets cameos, collaborations, and sometimes voiced lines in anime and games, actual rhythm games featuring her and the other piapro 6, she’s the face of GoodSmile racing (and was very temporarily the face of Domino’s Pizza in America, even), dozens of figures are made for her every year, there’s how her songs have been the foundation for multiple multi-media franchises and IPs like Black Rock Shooter and KagePro, and she among other virtual singers get to hold actual physical concerts people attend to see her “live.”
but the way she spread and has become an online cultural fixture is almost entirely dependent on genuine effort from online communities and what I can’t help but describe as love. all this couldn’t have been possible without online producers like ryo of supercell and EGOIST fame, cosMo, OSTER project, and kz simply putting their songs on niconico where everyone can watch and listen to the music videos for free, without the huge help of the marketing that miku gets today.
songs like “Melt” from ryo and “Packaged” from kz were posted just because these producers wanted to share what they created with the world. and that music was shared more and more because people just really liked listening to them. these songs convinced and inspired other producers down the line that there was a way for their music to spread without being singers themselves and that using Vocaloids was entirely viable. producers like Mitchie-M and wowaka used miku in new, striking ways that were huge departures from the likes of supercell and kz. and this isnt even going into the fanartists and animators who drew and animated because they loved miku and her songs just that much.
all the figures and concerts and rhythm games would not have happened without companies realizing she’s gotten all that love and attention even without a huge official push for her for her first couple years. so even as miku gets more and more attention as the years go by, and people eventually forget or just don’t recognize that she’s just software you can buy, the fact remains that everyone recognizes her now because of love. and that makes me so incredibly happy every time I stop to think about her.
9K notes · View notes
carakook · 2 months
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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°
“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”
→ Chapters list ←
⚘4. Spring Is Gone
🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞
╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗
⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader
⚘Synopsis: After being granted with “closure”, you try to enjoy your last night with Jungkook. It’s an emotional and fucking steamy mess.
⚘Genre:Forbidden love
⚘Word count: 13K+ 🥴
⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, active cheating, HEAVY smut, mouth spitting, wine kissing (idk if it’s actually called this but it’s what I have always called it LMAO), crying during sex, emotional sex, EMOTIONAL EVERYTHING YOU WILL CRY I AM WARNING YOU, grief, breaking up (sort of?), panic/anxiety attacks, alcohol, stealing (lol it’s kinda cute you’ll see,) making love (different from fucking), sort of rough, unprotected sex (always be careful, Y/N is on BC!), SAD JUNGKOOK I REPEAT SAD JUNGKOOK!!!! let me know if I miss anything there is a lot in this chapter.
⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.
⚘A/N: The long awaited chapter. This is a long one. I cried. A lot. Holy shit? It’s actually so sad lol but also has some good smut. This isn’t the last chapter, as I said before this is a full on fanfic, I also have it on Wattpad but it gets barely any reads so if you are interested in that let me know. After this chapter, things get very… drama filled? Idk a good word for it lol. I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry in advance if you cry. I highly recommend listening to the songs, each of them have a place in every chapter which is why I list them lol. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Love you.❤️
╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :
♪Merry Go - DPR Ian
♪Gimmie Love - Joji
♪The Astronaut - JIN
♪Dope Lovers - DPR Ian
♪sex money feelings die - Lykke Lie
♪Angel - The Weeknd
♪Nerves - DPR Ian
♪505 - Arctic Monkeys
♪I Love You So - The Walters
♪Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex
♪Cry - Cigarettes After Sex
✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧
Since you both agreed on enough of the heavy shit, you spend time together. The mood is heavy for some time, almost awkward, which is why you break out the several bottles of wine you bought this week in an attempt to cope with the end of you and your flower. You’d much rather drink it with him anyway.
You can always buy more.
The wine helps. After you’ve both had a glass, it feels less strained. You continue eating pizza and watching whatever sappy drama is on TV. He picks up on his rant, starts explaining how sex is definitely comparable to pizza; sex creates life, and without sex, we wouldn’t have discovered pizza. Makes total sense. It’s stupid, but he has a point—a very Jungkook thing to think up.
By the time you’re both three glasses deep, you’re a bit wine-drunk. He holds his liquor much better than you do, but you can tell he’s feeling all fuzzy inside. You check your phone as he sits sprawled out on your couch, taking up almost the entire damn thing with his bulky ass. It’s nearly 11:30 pm… around the time he should probably go home.
You glance at him, debating whether to subtly kick him out or not. You don’t want to, god no. It literally makes you sick thinking about it. But you shouldn’t let him stay either, should you? You’re supposed to end this. This was the last night.
But you see how content he looks—like a big, overgrown spoiled dog with a belly full of treats, relaxing next to his favorite person.
You did say one last night… technically the night isn’t over. And he shouldn’t drive in this state, really, if anything, it’s just for his safety…
So you nudge his leg with your foot, and he turns his head lazily towards you, arches a brow, “Hm?”
“Sleep over?”
Oh, he fucking grins. His dimples on show, his eyes crinkling up adorably, and his big bunny like teeth saying hi.
Because what you don’t realize is he wasn’t going to leave. Fuck no. You said one last night, and he was going to milk that for everything it was. No way in hell was he going to go home tonight. If he’s being frank, that’s why he drank three glasses of wine. He didn’t need it. But he knew he could use it as a loophole to staying the night. You wouldn’t let him drive drunk.
He knows damn well what he’s doing, and he’s elated that you offered to let him stay. It means you want him here.
Even after all the bullshit, you still want him here. You want to prolong it, too.
“Hell yeah.”
He winks and then leans up a bit to stretch, causing his shirt to lift and give you the most indulgent peak of his stomach. You shamelessly stare, and he absolutely notices, lifting his arms a bit higher just to give you a better look.
He loves it when you look at him like that.
But then he stands up, casually grabs his car keys from the coffee table, as if he isn’t fucking teasing you.
Fuck. The wine is definitely kicking in. The warm fuzzies in your tummy are spreading elsewhere.
“Gonna go grab some stuff from my car then, make sure it’s locked, I’ll be right back.”
You hum in response and lean back into the couch. Watch him as he walks out the door, and find comfort in the fact that you know he’s coming back… even if it’s the last time.
Jungkook is doing his best not to let his mind wander to the more damning thoughts as he walks out of your complex and into the parking lot. Because he feels the opposite, no comfort at all. His anxiety is spiked now that you’re out of sight. What if you don’t let him in when he makes his way back to you? What if you change your mind about the sleepover? What if you decide you hate him?
Not only that, but he feels like he’s wasting precious time. As if the five minutes he will be away from you (barely) are irreplaceable and he’s just wasting them. It’s literally the end of the world… he shouldn’t be wasting time.
But that’s just his anxiety speaking. In truth, he doesn’t actually need the things in his car… but he packed a few things before showing up unannounced—things he wanted to leave you with.
Such as the little Polaroid camera you bought for him months ago, one that you yourself have used every single time you’re together. You always snap little candid pictures of him, sometimes yourself. He finds your fascination with the thing so fucking cute. He uses it, too, of course. He often takes pictures of you without you even knowing it… and you’ve both definitely taken some more raunchy pictures, pictures that he keeps hidden away in a box for when he misses your touch. For his eyes only. They’re priceless to him, probably some of his most prized possessions.
Speaking of those photos, he also packed a box full of them just for you. Pictures you’ve taken of him, of both of you, of anything and everything. He wants you to have them, wants you to be able to look at them when you miss him a little too much. He went through the photos over the last few days of no contact, greedily picked out his favorites, and put them into his own box for the same purpose. But he picked a generous amount out for you, too.
And as corny as it may sound, he packed a few pieces of his clothing. He knows how much you love stealing his shit, especially his shirts. Several are still missing, but he won’t ask for them back. He’Ll gift you with more, made sure to spray his cologne on them too, so that you can smell him on them. He packed his favorite shirt, hoodie, and something he will reluctantly, but willingly, part with. His denim jacket.
All of them are Calvin Klein branded. The shirt is basic, just a black shirt that’s fitted on him but swallows you whole. It’s the one you often steal when you sleep over at his second apartment, but he never let you take it home because it was his favorite. It’s worn in and soft, that’s why he likes it. But it’s yours now, just like him.
The hoodie is the same, basic black, one that you always tried to steal but never succeeded in doing so. It’ll be like a warm hug when you miss him, he thinks. You’ll love it more than he will. You’ll need it more than him on nights that you feel lonely.
The jean jacket isn’t anything special in appearance. It’s dark denim but is lined in that soft wool that keeps you warm and cozy. He wore it often in the cold months, thought it made him look handsome, but also kept him comfy. He’d rather you have it. He wants to keep you warm forever, hold you in his arms and never let go, make sure you never feel cold again… but he can’t exactly do that. So instead, he’ll give you his jacket.
The last thing is one of his chains. God, he knows you love those damn chains. He almost always wears one, silver or gold, depending on the day. And you always make sure to tell him how much you like them. He never really understood it; it’s something so simple. But you swooned for it. After you guys fuck, you’re always touching it, playing with it. Even when you guys aren’t fucking, you seem to have the impulse to touch it. Maybe it’s a girl thing, he doesn’t know. But he’s giving you one since you liked it so much.
Definitely a girl thing.
He also brought the bottle of perfume you dropped on his floor that night you stormed off… he was going to give it back. Return it to its rightful owner. But as he’s grabbing the bag full of goods out of his car… he impulsively takes it out. Wants to keep it. Wants to be able to smell you, too. He’s sure you won’t miss it.
You won’t miss that perfume as much as he’s going to miss you.
He quickly grabs the bag of stuff, nearly dropping it as he grows more restless because he’s not with you right now. You’re too far away, and every single second counts tonight.
So he rushes back into your complex building, nearly full-on sprinting back to your door.
As he lets himself back in, you’re in the exact same position. Sitting comfy on the couch, eyes on the TV, your wine glass a bit more empty now. Thank fuck.
He wasn’t even gone for more than four minutes. And yes, you did notice, you didn’t like it. But you knew he’d come back. So you waited. Wasn’t a big deal.
He’s just dramatic, for good reason of course. You can see the unease written all over his face as he pads his way back towards you, sets the bag next to your couch. He doesn’t disclose what’s in it and you don’t ask, you just assume it’s the bag he usually keeps in his car for impromptu nights like this.
He doesn’t want to present these little gifts to you yet… because he feels like that’s what’s going to really finalize it. So he’ll wait a little longer.
Would put it off forever if he could.
He takes a seat next to you, obnoxiously close. Your couch isn’t big, but there’s enough for two people to have a comfortable distance from each other. He doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he’s touching you in some way, so he nearly squishes you as he sits down as casually as ever and slings one of his arms on the back of your couch so that his fingertips rest on your shoulder.
He has an almost jittery energy about him right now. Obviously, emotions are heavy; it’s your last night together. It’s kind of hard to act totally ok and normal when you’re both well aware that this is the last night. But even then, somethings a bit off.
You study him for a moment, notice how he’s running his teeth over his lip ring again, how his leg is bouncing up and down a bit even as he tries to mimic a relaxed position on the couch. Maybe he’s anxious?
He is. However, that’s not what this is all about. He wants to kiss and touch you so badly it hurts. But now he’s unsure if he’s allowed. He doesn’t know what’s on and off limits tonight, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize your time together by fucking it up and making unwanted advances.
Overthinking. He wishes he didn’t do that. But he doesn’t even realize it’s happening until after things are said and done, doesn’t know how to stop it.
You assume maybe it’s just nervous energy thanks to the impending sense of doom you both feel. You feel similarly… but you hide it better.
More wine would help, you think.
So you lean forward and grab the bottle which is half empty, this is the second bottle of tonight. You top off each of your glasses as Jungkook watches, and you take a sip.
His eyes stay glued to your lips. He loves your lips. Loves all of you, but especially your lips. He thinks that will be one of the things he misses the most. How soft and pillowy they are, how they’re a bit rosey in color, how they taste, how they pout out a bit when you drink wine, how wine stains your lips so prettily, how they feel wrapped around his—
Yeah. Fuck it. One last night.
“Gimmie some.”
You glance at him and arch a brow, wonder if he’s referring to the wine… or maybe pizza? You literally just topped his wine glass off. He’s being weird.
“I just topped you off?”
He shakes his head, “Nah, I want yours.”
You scoff at him because now he’s just being childish. But he’s looking at you so expectantly, almost stubbornly, as if he’s asking for something more than the wine he’s demanding.
And he is. He doesn’t even really know what though. He’s being greedy, wants your wine because your lips touched the glass, because remnants of your spit might have melted into the wine after taking sips. He doesn’t want his own damn wine.
He wants to be greedy tonight. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s already lost it all.
So he reaches over and takes the wine glass from you, gets a bit impatient when he sees you aren’t gonna give it to him right away. He takes a slow sip, places his lips in the same exact spot yours have been every time you’ve taken a drink. It’s ridiculous, really… but he swears he tastes the faintest essence of you on the glass. Closes his eyes, swishes the wine around in his mouth, trying to see if he can taste more of you…
Ok, so, he’s definitely being a bit ridiculous. But fuck, he already feels like he’s going crazy. Can’t really help himself when he is desperately craving any little crumb of you.
You don’t know what to make of this. Part of you is amused, part of you is irritated, because he just stole your damn wine. But you also know there must be more to it, there has to be.
He cracks an eye open, sees you staring at him like he’s crazy, because he kinda is. Only for you, of course. He just swallows the wine and shrugs innocently.
“Yours is better, mine tastes weird.”
You roll your eyes at him because he has the same wine as you do. You can’t figure out what his game is here. So you reach over and take his wine and say, “Yours is literally the same as mine.”
To prove a point you take a sip of his. Just as expected, tastes the exact same as yours. He watches you carefully… gets an idea. An incredibly impulsive,almost intrusive idea.
But again… it’s the last night. And he’s greedy.
You huff at him and point his wine glass (which is now yours apparently) at him as you watch him take a huge gulp out of your glass again.
“Yeah, see, tastes the exact-“
He abruptly grabs the nape of your neck and cups your jaw with his free hand, his thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip and lowering it. He places his lips on yours, waits until your mouth instinctively opens just as it always does for him, and then funnels the wine into your mouth.
Fucking feeding you the wine like a baby bird.
It catches you by surprise at first, causing you to cough a bit and causing the wine to dribble down your chin, but you quickly gulp it down just like he gulps down the little gasp and cough you let out. He kisses you greedily, doesn’t even build up to it before he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth and swirling it against yours, tasting the heady mixture of wine and you. Fuck, you’re his favorite taste.
You don’t protest; of course you don’t. Was definitely a bit bizarre, but also… fuck, that was hot. Was a bit weird but in a super sexy way. You kiss him back, letting out little huffs of air into his mouth as one of your hands also finds the nape of his neck. The other hand automatically rests against his chest, clings to the fabric of his shirt tightly.
You both stay like this as long as possible. The kiss only grows more desperate and aggressive, teeth and tongue clashing beautifully together like thunder and rain. Your soft pants turn into eager breathes at some point, and he knows you need to breathe. But fuck, he wants to stay lip locked with you until he passes out.
This is when you start to second-guess things. Yes, this is the last night together… but knowing it’s ending makes the guilt a bit more prominent. This wouldn’t be ending if it wasn’t wrong, but it is wrong; sleeping with him again just seems so contradictory or maybe even hypocritical.
So you push at his chest lightly, a silent signal for him to slow down. God, he hates the way his stomach lurches. Can’t fathom the idea that you might kick him out right now. Please, god, don’t do this. I’m not a weed, I swear, I’m her fucking flower. I need her one more time, he silently prays even though he’s never been religious or prayed before.
When he pulls back with heavily lidded eyes, you speak up hesitantly, even though you don’t wanna stop, god not at all.
“Kook, we shouldn’t…”
That’s all you say. Because it’s really that simple. You shouldn’t be doing this; you should never have done it at all. But even then, you lack the ability to convince him. Because you want him, one last time. You’re just having a hard time willingly giving in again.
Jungkook knows you well. Knows your body language. He knows that if you truly wanted him to stop, you would’ve been more self assured when speaking. You wouldn’t sound like a meek little mouse, you’d be firm in telling him know. He can see the same thing in your eyes, it’s pure unadulterated want. But maybe you need reassurance, reassurance that one last time is ok, is needed.
You’ve both sinned so much already, one more time won’t change shit.
So his grasp on your jaw firms up a bit, he starts feeling a little too passionate about this. He coaxes your mouth open by smooshing your cheeks a bit before saying,
“Y/N, fucking don’t. Just let us have this, please.”
“But Kook-“
He grunts in frustration. Just as impulsively as he fed you wine kisses, he spits in your mouth. It makes you flinch, makes your pussy clench because fuck it’s so filthy but so hot. So intimate in a sort of fucked up way.
“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”
He leans back down and starts kissing you again, licking into your mouth and adding more to the spit he put there moments ago. Doesn’t even give you a chance to protest. He kisses you like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. He’s sure he will. He’ll die a miserable death if he doesn’t love you one more time.
It's a bit harsh, but you know each other enough to know he isn’t trying to be forceful or rude; he’s just desperate. You are too, honestly. You know damn well if you said no and meant it, he would pull away and stop immediately. Your body has always been safest with him. You don’t want to stop, not really. You’re thankful he’s being like this. It’s the push you need to ignore the guilt for a while longer and share your body with him one last time.
When he feels that you’ve melted into him, with no more tension or hesitancy in your body, he pulls away, nipping at your lower lip once and then sucking on it. Then his lips travel down, and he licks the wine staining your chin off before placing sloppy kisses down your neck.
He doesn’t even ask before he starts sucking and licking on your sensitive skin. Not kitten licks, not gentle sucks, no, he’s full-on giving you hickeys, and you know it. You know it’s intentional when you feel him pull back a bit to take a peak, only to lean back in a second later and bite.
The hand on his nape fists into his hair, and your back arches a bit, causing your chest to push against his chest, “Fuck, Kook…”
You should tell him to stop marking you up like this. You don’t like showing up to work or visiting friends with visible hickeys because questions get asked. And as much as you wish you could admit who they’re from, you can’t. No one knows about Jungkook. No one even knows you’re seeing someone right now, and you don’t want to have to come up with some story to cover your ass.
It’s a secret for you too.
But it’s the last night together… and the idea of having his hickeys on your neck, just to remind you a little longer that this was real, he was real, it’s an idea you quite like. Fucking love, actually.
He grunts at you, bites down a little harder, “What? Told you your wine was better…”
You let out a little breathy laugh when he says this, because of course he would play it coy, as if he didn’t just randomly start devouring you. Of course he’d blame it on the damn wine.
That breathy laugh quickly turns into a moan when one of his hands finds your tit, he starts squeezing and groping it through your shirt shamelessly, tweaking your nipple in the way he knows you love. God, he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size for him, he swears. They fit into his palm perfectly, feel like pillows, just like your lips. All of you is just so soft.
He kisses his way down your neck now that it’s all marked up in pretty purple and pink bruises blossoming, much like you do every single time he touches you like this. When he gets to your chest, he looks up at you through his lashes, and then he nearly rips your shirt off of you when he pulls it down.
His eyes leave yours as he looks down at the beautiful pillows on your chest. He just admires them for a moment, as if he’s at an art gallery studying each piece of art. That’s what you are, art. Everything about you inside out is otherworldly beautiful to him, tits included.
At this point, you’re lying down on your couch, legs parted for him. It’s a bit awkward because of how small the couch is, but that doesn’t stop either of you. He doesn’t give a fuck that he barely fits. He’ll make himself fit… just like he’s made himself fit into your life for months.
He wants to fit into your life just one more time, one more night, wants to meld together and tangle your roots so that it’s impossible to untangle them. He knows it’s wishful thinking, but that’s where this is all coming from. He’s not being aggressive and eager and greedy just because he’s horny, no, he’s doing this because maybe, just maybe, if he shows you with his body how much he loves you… how much he needs you… you’ll change your mind one day.
His mouth descends on your left breast, and he starts licking and sucking on your nipple. Your eyes roll back, and your entire body shudders at the sensations, fuck, it always feels like the first time. Before him, men didn’t pay such close attention to your body. Never even had a guy play with your tits before, Jungkook was the first. It was so odd at first, but it quickly became one of your favorite things. Makes you get so wet so fast.
You love how he looks up at you when he does it, his eyes full of asters and stars alike, hearts and moons, lust mixed with love and it’s a dizzying sight. You wonder if this is how you look when you go down on him, if that’s why it unravels him so quickly. You’d understand if so, you wish so badly you could snap a picture of him like this and preserve it.
It’s funny because he’s thinking the same thing. How beautiful you look when he goes down on you, how your eyes mimic his own, and how you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions when the pleasure is too intense. His favorite thing is when you start furrowing your brows and almost pouting at him without realizing it; the little pants and mewls you let out without meaning to, it drives him absolutely insane.
He wants to capture it, too. Fuck, tonight is a night to remember, he wants everything solidified in film. Every single kiss and touch and whisper spoken tonight, he needs to preserve it.
He sucks on your nipple for a few more seconds, his other hand flicking the nipple on your right breast. Wants to get you all worked up for him. he then pulls back, letting go of your tit with a wet pop sound. Lets his hands rest on your thighs and rubs his palms up and down them as he takes you in.
You let out a little whine when he pulls away, but you don’t protest. His pupils dilate heavily as he looks down at you because, holy fuck, you’ve never let him mark you up like this. He doesn’t even like giving hickeys, thinks it’s a bit immature, something meant for college. But seeing you blooming pink and purple from your neck down to your pretty tits? It makes his cock twitch hard in his sweats.
He removes one hand from your thigh, and reaches down to palm himself through his sweats. He squeezes his cock as he takes in your already debauched look. Marked up, tits out, lips swollen, eyes heavy… fuck. You may be what kills him, not heart break.
One last squeeze to his cock to relieve a bit of the pressure, and he lets go of it. He knows you’re getting a bit impatient by how you’re shifting in your spot, but you know he wants to take his time tonight. So you don’t say anything, no matter how much you wanna beg for his dick or his mouth.
He leans over the couch to unzip the bag he brought, grabs the Polaroid, and then readjusts himself between your legs. He sets the camera down on your stomach and brings his hands back to where your thighs are spread prettily for him.
You arch a brow, and he gives you a little smile. He still looks a bit fucked, his eyes black with want and his cock literally tenting his sweats. The smile is much too sweet for what you’re both doing.
“Take as many pictures as you want, there’s a full roll of film in there. Can keep ‘em for when you miss me.”
Now is not the time to cry. Fuck.
You nod at him, grab the camera and keep it close. You wonder if he planned this or if it was a coincidence that it was in his bag. Regardless, you’re thankful. Elated even, that he’s going to let you capture this and preserve it for those nights you doubt he was ever even real. There's no time to be sad now; you can grieve him when he’s gone.
He flicks his tongue over his lip ring as he looks down at you again, there’s so much that he wants to do tonight, but he knows damn well the moment his cock so as much touches you, he’s going to lose control. He needs to lavish you with love and attention first before even thinking of himself.
He grabs the hem of your shirt, gently pulls it over your head. You lay pliant, let him take the lead and do whatever he wants. God, anything for him as long as he keeps looking at you like that, like you’re the reason he breathes.
Next he takes off the pajama shorts you had on, slowly fumbling with them because of the awkward position on the couch. It makes you giggle at him, which makes him giggle at you. Now that you’re both a bit calmed down, not quite as worked up, you realize maybe the couch isn’t the most practical place.
Even then, you take the Polaroid and snap a picture, capturing his bashful smile on camera as he tosses your shorts away. He doesn’t protest; he lets you. Watches as you take the photo it spits out and stare at it lovingly before setting it on the coffee table.
His hands are on your thighs again, and despite the fact you’re nearly butt naked now, his eyes stay steady on your face. He reaches forward, grabs the camera from you, and snaps his photo of you. He focuses the Polaroid specifically on your neck to capture the hickies he left, wants to remember you marked as his. He retrieves the photo after the camera spits it out. He doesn’t look at it yet; just tosses it inside of his bag next to the couch.
At your huff and shy little glare you send him, he chuckles, hands you back the camera, and before you can scold him, he lightly swats your thigh. Then he gets off the couch and picks you up bridal style.
It’s hard to be mad at him when he makes you feel like a princess. You don’t actually mind that he took the picture, as embarrassing as it feels. You know it’ll be for his eyes only.
He easily carries you into your bedroom, kicks the door open, and deposits you on your bed. Wasted no time before he’s taking off his shirt and sweats, and fuck, you swear he’s a Greek god. Perfect, in every way. You could drool every damn time you see any bit of his skin. His broad shoulders, his tiny waist, his subtle and toned thighs, it’s a lethal combination. Any woman who sees him like this surely could keel over at how beautiful he is, how sexy he is.
He gets on the bed with you, and you set the camera on the pillow next to your head. He settles between your thighs once more. He can feel himself starting to get impatient now that you’re both in only your underwear; his cock is still hard. Only getting harder as he stares down at you, looking at how pretty you look with your hard nipples glistening with his spit and your soft thighs spread just for him.
He descends, placing open-mouthed kisses on your tummy. Your hands come to rest in his hair as they’ve done many times because you know you’ll need to hang on. You know where this leads, and anytime he eats you out, it’s an out-of-body experience. The things this man’s mouth can do are unholy, but still feel like heaven.
His eyes stay on you as he kisses his way down to your thighs. He nips at them lightly, causing you to whine. He covers your lower half in kisses, not missing a single ounce of your skin as he lavishes your inner thighs with sweet little declarations of love that just aren’t enough.
You lift your hips ever so slightly, tug on his hair a bit, send him a silent message that says please fucking put your mouth on me before I explode.
He smirks against your skin, looks up at you as he trails his lips upward, “Just feel it, baby, let me love on you.”
You want to roll your eyes at this, but don’t say anything. Just try to regulate your breathing. You know he’s wanting to savor it, savor you. He has every right to.
But he knows what you need; can tell by the way you’re scratching his scalp that you’re itching to feel his mouth on you. And if he’s being honest, he’s growing a bit impatient, too.
So he finally trails his lips past your thighs, onto the mound of your cunt which is still covered by your panties. The moment he sees the wet spot seeping through, smells your arousal, his patience disappears. Suddenly, he’s fucking starving.
He doesn’t even take your panties off before he starts kissing your cunt, sucking on your clit through the fabric. The feeling makes your body nearly jolt, your hips bucking into his face as you tug on his hair and let out an incredibly strained moan. Fuck. So much for taking it slow and dragging it out.
He becomes a man possessed once he tastes you. He’s letting out grunts as he borderline makes out with your panties, suckling the fabric to get every drop of your essence off of them and onto his tongue. It’s genuinely filthy, debauched, but god, it’s hot.
He leans back with flared nostrils and glistening lips, looking like he’s wearing lipgloss. Made specially by you, of course. He nearly rips your panties off and throws them into the pile containing his clothes at the end of the bed.
A coincidence, he tells himself. He’s totally not planning on ‘accidentally’ taking them home with him… not at all.
He leans back down, grabs your thighs, and props them over his shoulders as he maneuvers himself to lay flat on his stomach on the bed, his knees keeping him steady as he presses his face into your pussy.
He inhales you, takes in your scent. So musky and pretty, so uniquely you. He wishes he could bottle it up and wear it as a fucking cologne. He rubs his nose around in it, nudging your clit back and forth, almost as if he’s motor-boating you but instead of your tits, it’s your cunt.
God, it’s lewd. But he can’t get enough.
You already feel yourself becoming a little too turned on but wanna capture this moment. Wanna preserve how fucked he looks when he does shit like this, only ever for you. So you grab the Polaroid with one shakey hand that leaves his hair, and you snap a quick photo. It comes out a bit blurry, but you don’t mind. You place the camera back on the pillow alongside the fresh photo and have to double down on gripping his hair because, holy fuck, this feels so good.
His tongue finds your entrance and starts licking inside, trying to get every last drop of your cream greedily into his mouth. He uses his nose to stimulate your clit, one of the perks of having a big nose. He’s grunting as he licks into your cunt, almost sounds feral doing so. He doesn't even recognize his own voice with the damn noises he's making.
As much as you don’t want to admit it, watching this all unfold has you dangerously close already. Your thighs are quivering on his shoulders, and your toes are curling along his back. The way he’s breathing into your pussy, sucking and licking and nudging it with his nose, fuck, it has you a mess. The noises you’re making you can’t control; you’re starting to sound just as feral as him.
“Mmmph… Koo… gonna cum soon, slow down…”
You babble at him. You wanna cum so bad, but you also don’t want it to stop so soon. If you had one wish at this very moment, it would be that he does this forever. He looks so lovely in between your thighs, licking and sucking you up as if it’s his last meal.
Because it is his last meal. After this night, he’s gonna be starving for eternity without you.
He huffs out a little laugh against your clit, the hot air causing your back to arch and fingers to tighten in his hair; if he doesn’t ease up, your thighs are surely going to crush his damn head.
“Cum then. Fucking give it to me, Y/N. Let me earn it.”
He nearly growls at you before he dives back in with renewed vigor. He replaces his tongue, which was deep in your cunt, with his fingers. He uses his mouth now to suck on your clit. As you look down at him, you’d swear he was kissing it, making out with it, making love with his fucking mouth. The added pressure of two of his long fingers crooking inside of you is quickly bringing you to your end.
But what nearly makes you cum on the spot is the way he starts fucking humping the bed. Acting like a virgin humping a pillow, he moves his hips back and forth on the mattress just for some sort of stimulation to his cock because it started getting so hard it was damn near painful.
He knows how desperate he looks but doesn’t care. Clearly, you enjoy it, judging by the way you start panting, and your pussy starts pulsating and tightening around his fingers. They fuck into you harder, rubbing up against the spongy flesh inside, all while he makes out with your clit.
His eyes open to meet yours, and you’re done for. Seeing that desperation and love in his eyes mixed with the fact he’s fucking humping your bed makes your pussy throb. You begin cumming hard, tugging on his hair as your thighs clasp around his head. He damn near whines into your cunt, the noise only causing vibrations to make it so much more intense for you.
“Nnngh oh shit! Fuck, oh fuck Koo… oh my god, shiiit…”
Your hips buck up into his mouth eagerly; you can’t even control it. Your feet planted on his back, toes curling, thighs trembling around his face, and your face scrunched up in pleasure. You see stars- no- you see an entire fucking galaxy as you cum all over his face. Full of stars, moons, planets, gardens, all of which are full of him and every single fiber of his being.
All for him, just as he is all for you.
He fucks you through it, does his best to prolong it, but he knows he’ll make you cum again on his cock. He is aching to be buried inside of you. He wants to make love to you, not fuck you, he wants to meld your bodies together and become one tonight.
After what feels like forever, your body relaxes, and the spasming of your clit dies down, causing it to become sensitive. He can tell by the way your legs shake and your body jolts when he applies too much pressure with his tongue.
He reluctantly pulls back, licking your juices off of his lips before placing little kisses all over your thighs and pelvis. He looks fucked, his nose and his lips are glistening obscenely in the dim lighting, and his eyes don’t look brown anymore but black.
When your eyes travel downward, you whine at him. His cock is nearly tearing through his underwear, which you now realize he’s wearing your fav, the purple CK’s. There’s a little stain where the head of his cock presses, so much precum, all for you.
He looks down where your eyes are trained, and he snorts at himself. Jesus fuck, he really is acting like a desperate teenager, isn’t he? But he can’t find himself giving a shit. He wants you to know how desperate and unhinged you make him. He can’t say he’s ever been so horny he borderline fucked a mattress, not until now. And it’s all because of you.
He takes off his underwear with shaky hands and tosses them somewhere in your room. Then he settles between your legs again, rubbing up and down your thighs as he takes you in as if it’s the first time.
Your hands come up to his chest, scraping your nails down it slowly, which earns you the most beautiful groan from his lips. He bites down on them, and his cock jumps upward, begging to be touched. So you trail your hands lower until you find his aching length and take it into your hand, start stroking him lazily.
His breathing becomes labored, and his eyes flutter shut. Even just your hand feels so fucking good. His hips jerk forward, seeking more stimulation. Fuck, he can’t get enough.
One of his hands remains on your thigh while the other reaches for the camera. He boldly angles it directly at your cunt, snaps a photo of it, making sure to capture the way your slick folds glisten in the light, along with all of the purple flowers blossoming on your thighs. His tattooed hand is barely in the shot but is visible enough to make it clear it is him in this photo.
He tosses the photo in the same pile his clothes and your panties lay next to the bed, and then angles the camera towards your face and body to take another. He thinks you’re so pretty like this. Cheeks flushed, lips puffy because you always bite them right before you cum, eyes bright with afterglow. You look like an Angel, especially in this moment.
He’s sure you’re an Angel sent from the God he doesn't even believe in.
He snaps another photo and tries to steady his shaky hands because the way you’re stroking his cock feels borderline painful. Too slow; he needs more. Beads of precum drip down his cock as if it’s crying. It may as well be crying for you.
He quickly takes the photo, tosses it in the same pile, and then does the same with the camera without thinking. Is getting way too worked up with how you’re stroking his dick and looking at him like a Greek god.
Because he is one. You’ll say it time and time again.
He leans over your body and settles in between your legs. You remove your hand and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in his hair again. He grinds his cock onto your pussy, coating it in the remnants of your cum and juices, and starts kissing you slowly.
The kiss isn’t like the one with wine; this one is sweet, loving, still desperate, but more patient. His lips work with you in unison, your puzzle pieces coming together once more. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you moan into his mouth, which causes his cock to twitch against your pussy. God, he loves the sounds that you make. Music to his ears, he’d play it on repeat if he could.
He slowly drags the tip of his cock down to your entrance which is well prepared for him, and even more slowly starts thrusting inside of you. He wants to feel you deeply, feel every ripple and ridge of your pussy, every pulse and throb. He wants to catalog it and replay it over and over in his head for when he misses you.
Jungkook is definitely gifted when it comes to his manhood. It’s not too long, a good seven and a half inches, but fuck he’s so girthy. When you first fucked him, you could barely handle how thick he was. Nowadays, you can absolutely handle it, but that first push always gets you fucking squirming. The pressure and stretch are nothing like you’ve ever felt before.
You let out a stuttered gasp into his mouth when he buries himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your ass, and he stays there for a moment so that you can adjust. You break the kiss, wincing a bit as you turn your face to try and hide the way it scrunches up as it always does the first few moments he’s inside of you.
He doesn’t like that. Not at all.
He pulls his face back from yours and steadies himself on his elbow as one of his hands comes up to grip your jaw. He turns your face towards him, doesn’t let you look away or try to hide.
“Uh-uh, you look at me when I fuck you. I wanna see every single detail of your pretty face if this is the last time I get you like this.”
You whine at him, your eyes fluttering shut and cheeks warming. For some reason, that’s embarrassing, like being called out for talking in class or some shit. But even then, your pussy clenches around his cock, because you love it when he takes control like that, when he makes it clear what he wants.
He shakes your jaw a bit when he notices you closing your eyes, causing them to open instinctively. He looks just as fucked as you do, his nostrils are flared, and he’s sweating slightly, clearly holding back.
“Eyes on me, Y/N. Don’t you fucking dare look away. Look me in my eyes while I make love to you.”
Fuck. It takes every single bit of strength you possess not to cry. There he goes, voicing the fact that tonight isn’t going to be some hard fuck. It’s making love.
That terrifies you.
Making love is something entirely different compared to fucking. Some people disagree, but you don’t. Fucking is mindless, meant for pleasure and pleasure alone. Sometimes, there's intimacy after, but it’s mostly just sex. Making love, of course, comes with pleasure, but that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to come together with your partner, show each other how much you love them, let all of your emotions run wild and free while sharing the most intimate parts of your body together.
Fucking is like buying a bouquet of roses. You get to see them, water them, keep them on display, but the joy dies quickly because the roses die, too.
Making love is like growing a garden of roses. You can’t make love until you grow that love with someone; nurture it, watch it morph and evolve. And then the flowers bloom. The love bursts, the petals are vibrant in colors made up of you and your partner.
Both are lovely. Everyone loves buying a bouquet of roses, but few get to experience growing their own.
You’ve never made love. Tonight will be the first time.
And it will probably be the last.
You nod at Jungkook stupidly, keeping your eyes on his just as he asked you to. Once he sees your eyes remaining on him, he starts slowly moving his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, your arousal can clearly be heard by the noises your cream coating his cock every time he slides in and out makes. It’s beautiful.
This is beautiful… and so goddamn tragic.
He’s also fighting tears. Because, unlike you, he has made love before… or thought he did. He swore on his wedding night he made love to his wife, but it was nothing like this. You’ve barely even started, and he can feel the stark difference. God, it makes him question fucking everything. He never felt this way with his wife, with anyone, only ever with you.
But now isn’t the time to think of such things, to dissect the fact that maybe what he had with his wife was never actually love, but comfort. Now is the time to share your love together, one last time.
He starts moving his hips a bit faster. His arms reach under your body and wrap around you, trying to get as close as humanly possible. He rests his forehead on yours, keeps his eyes on yours, too. He starts panting, is fighting back tears. He is trying so hard not to cry right now.
“I love you.”
Fuck.
You let out another stuttered breath, and then your breathing picks up entirely as you fight back tears. Your arms are wrapped around him now, nails digging into his back like you’re afraid he will float away. Because you are, you’re so scared that if you let go, he will disappear. You don’t want him to disappear.
He starts pounding a bit deeper, grunting with each deep thrust as he grits out again,
“I love you.”
Fuck he needs to stop.
“Jungkook— nngh… don’t…”
He shakes his head, his breathing heavier, and his thrusts bordering on aggressive now. That’s not abnormal for him; sex with you both is regularly rough. But this is so different. It isn’t the dominating kind of aggressive but desperate, full of passion and love and grief.
“No, Y/N, look at me. I love you. I fucking love you so much, Y/N. I love you.”
And you break.
Crying for you also isn’t abnormal during sex with him specifically. It’s always intense, so sometimes you cry. Not out of sadness or pain; it just happens sometimes. He came to learn that quickly.
But just like how he’s making love to you, these tears are different. You’re weeping for the loss of your lover, but also because you are still so full of love for him. You’re crying because for the first time since this mess started between you, you believe him when he says he loves you. Deep down in your core, in every single crack and crevice of your being, you feel his love for you.
You see it in his eyes as he looks at you, you feel it in the way he touches and kisses you, you hear it in the way he speaks to you when he says it. He loves you so fucking much, and you regret refusing to see it until your last night together. You wish so badly you could have savored his love more seriously rather than deny yourself of it.
You wish things were different.
So you cry for him. The moment the first tear falls, you don’t hold back. You let out something between a moan and a sob as he fucks his cock into you, and his hips stutter when he realizes you’re crying. He didn’t want you to cry, fuck, he doesn’t think he can handle that right now without crying himself. He just wanted you to know, needed you to know that you are loved by him. So fucking loved.
He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the tears fall. He tilts his head slightly and starts kissing the tears away, even as they continue to fall. Greedily kisses them away because they are for him. This will be the last time you water his fully bloomed flower, so he will be greedy. Because he knows that after this, his flower will wilt away, maybe he will, too. So he lets you cry and he kisses and fucks you through it.
He feels himself getting close, his cock starting to twitch and his hips grinding harder into your pelvis. He feels you getting close, too, the way your cunt starts pulsing in rhythm with his cock. You’ve never come at the same time before. He hopes that tonight, he can make it happen.
“Fuck, you feel like home… I love you so much…”
A strangled sob escapes your throat at his words. It’s like he can’t stop saying it, can’t get the words out of his mouth enough. You’ve yet to say it back because you’re afraid his glittery eyes will water, too. But god, you need him to know.
“I love you too, Koo… more than anything…”
And you were right. Hearing you say it amidst your tears, combined with the way your pussy starts rippling around his cock, throbbing and clenching directly after you say it, it’s too much.
He cries. Tries to hide it with a moan, but it’s no use because his tears fall onto your cheeks. You both start crying harder, and he starts fucking you faster. His arms tighten around your waist, and he starts kissing you. Lets you taste your melded tears, his sorrow, his devotion, his love all poured out into this kiss and his tears.
You both water each others flower for the last time.
You feel the familiar pressure building as you kiss him back, your tears mixing with his, the taste addicting. You hate seeing him cry; you know it’s going to haunt you for weeks. But right now, you’re consumed with wanting to be as close to him as possible, and you want to share this moment with him.
You wrap your legs around his waist, and your hips start matching his thrusts. The kiss turns a bit sloppy and uncoordinated because he’s very clearly about to cum; you can feel his cock start twitching and pulsing aggressively inside of you.
“I love you, Y/N. I love you. I. Love. You.”
He groans loudly, his voice sounds strained and distraught. “Come with me.”
You assume he means he wants you to cum at the same time as him. He wants you to cum together, which is definitely going to happen; you feel the string about to snap on both sides.
But really, it had dual meaning. Cum with me, but also come with me. Anywhere, everywhere, please run away with me, please love me forever and ever, please save a piece of your heart for me, please don’t stay away from me forever.
One last thrust and his pelvis grinds into yours as his balls draw up taught. He whimpers into your mouth, and his pelvis grinding into you, mixed with how fucking deep his cock is inside of you, is enough stimulation to your clit to cause you to hurl over the edge a second time. You cream all over his dick, your hips writhing beneath him as you whine and moan into his mouth. His cock jerks hard inside of you, shooting hot ropes of cum that seem endless. Your souls meld together much like your tears do, and you both cum harder than you ever have.
It’s like, in this moment, you are one. You both share a garden, flowers at full bloom, no pesky cages or fences to hinder you from flourishing together. There’s sunlight, and bees, and soil, and plenty of water. It’s peaceful, it’s heaven, it’s home. It’s where you both swear you belong.
Both of your orgasms seem to last eternally. It’s endless, his cock jerking and spurting in rhythm to the way your pussy milks him and pulses around him. He stays buried to the hilt until his cock tires out and your pussy stops milking him.
Even after, he stays like this. You both say nothing as you silently cry together, still connected intimately as you share little kisses between tears.
You made love. He made love to you.
You know damn well you’re ruined for any other man going forward after that.
He exhales a shaky breath and starts peppering your face with little kisses. Despite the tears, he feels lighter than before. There’s still that impending sense of doom, but he knows in his heart that you know he loves you now. That’s all he wanted from tonight…
And despite the sex being pretty vanilla compared to what you usually do, Jesus fuck, that was the best sex he’s ever had.
As he attempts to kiss all of your tears away, he starts whispering the sweetest shit to you, even as he continues crying.
“My baby…”
Kiss.
“My love…”
Kiss.
“My pretty girl…”
Kiss.
“My angel…”
Kiss.
“My heart…”
Kiss.
“My soul…”
Kiss.
“My fucking everything…”
Kiss, kiss, kiss.
Fuck, it makes you swoon hearing all of those sweet words. Not sweet nothings, but sweet declarations. Pure truth. You are and have been his everything despite how fucked up it all is.
You always will be. Fucking always.
You cry a bit harder, nearly blubbering now. He keeps crying, too, not quite as hard as you because he doesn’t want this to be harder for you than it already is… but he knows the moment he leaves you in the morning, he will cry twice as hard.
You realize you’re still clinging to him; there are definitely going to be red marks all over his back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, keeping him buried inside of you because that’s where you swear he belongs. He would agree with you.
But you remove your hands from his back and bring them to cup his face, and you feel so fucking drained from the intense sex and crying and the entire goddamn rollercoaster of today… but you don’t want it to end. Fuck, you’re so afraid for it to end.
You place a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you. I really do. Always have, always will, forever and ever…”
He smiles sadly down at you, nods. Because he knows. He never once doubted how much you loved him; every single time he was with you, he felt your love. Even when you were mad at him, you made him feel loved. He wishes so badly that he could’ve made you feel as secure as you made him feel.
You will never know how utterly thankful for you he is.
“I know baby, I know…”
You let out another choked sob and bury your face in his neck. He lifts himself off of you slightly, and he moves himself so that he’s lying beside you instead of on top of you. You cling to him again, refuse to let him go. Can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to. Can’t fucking bear it.
He gently slips his cock out of you and then wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to cup the back of your head and stroke his fingers through your hair, the other rubbing your back soothingly.
You cry and cry and cry. It’s pitiful how hard you’re crying; if anyone saw you right now, they’d be certain someone had died. It really feels that way, as if he’s dying while holding you right now. He feels like he’s dying watching you crumble like this, but he doesn’t dare stop you.
He doesn’t even reassure you because all that would do is give you false hope for something that may not happen ever again. For all you know, after this, you will never cross paths. He may just become a ghost to you…
A flower that bloomed in the spring and died come winter.
There were so many things you wanted to do tonight. You wanted to shower together, wash his hair for him, show him how to bake those cookies you know he loves, stay up and talk about a bunch of pointless shit, rewatch your favorite movies together, fuck a few more times, choke on his dick one last time, kiss him and touch him all over all night. So so so much more.
You didn’t want to stop here. You wanted to stay awake and savor every last second together just as greedily as him. But god, as you sob in his arms, you feel yourself growing so heavy with exhaustion that you can’t keep your eyes open.
“Don’t let me fall asleep, Koo, make me stay awake…”
He buries his face in your hair, his tears making wet patches in your strands. He inhales deeply just to get another whiff of your shampoo, fuck, he needs to figure out which one it is before he leaves so he can buy it and use it. Doesn’t even care if it’s weird. Wants to smell like you. Wants to be surrounded by reminders of you forever.
Like you, he’s been crying this whole time but so quiet that you don’t even realize it. He made sure you wouldn’t realize it. This is your time to get comfort from him, he can’t offer you reassurance, but he damn sure can comfort you through the pain that is his fault.
“Rest, baby… I’m here…”
You shake your head at him, keep your face buried in his neck even as your eyes start to lull shut.
“No, slap me, keep me awake… don’t wanna… sleep… please…”
He can feel your body start to go limp, can feel your tears running down his neck. He knows you’ll be out cold soon. You were fighting a battle you just couldn’t win, and god he wishes he could keep you awake. But he knows you’re emotionally overloaded right now…
And maybe if you fall asleep in his arms, you’ll rest peacefully for tonight. You deserve that, he thinks. You deserve so much peace and happiness.
“It’s ok Y/N… I got you. Just sleep. My baby needs rest, hm?”
You try so fucking hard to respond. But he’s right; you’re fighting a losing battle. Your body can’t keep up with your brain to the point you’re slurring your words. Maybe it’s the after-effects of a fight or flight response because it really felt like you were fighting for your love when making love tonight… fighting to keep hold of his roots as they slowly became untwined from yours. And now, you’re simply too tired.
“I… I love you… so… much…”
He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. Holds you a little tighter. Because, fuck, your last words before lulling into a deep sleep were that you loved him. It’s as it should be, but for some reason, it wrecks him, knowing that this is the last time he will hear them.
When your breathing evens out, he pulls back, stares at you. Your brows are furrowed even in sleep, clearly troubled. But you don’t stir and your grip on him loosens. You are so fucking beautiful. He wishes so badly he could just stay like this, watching you rest, in your arms while you’re in his.
Holding each other, as if you’re both one person instead of two.
He knows he won’t sleep tonight. He’s just as overwhelmed as you, but instead of his body shutting down, his adrenaline has spiked. He’s dreading leaving this bed, dreading leaving you.
He stares for an almost pathetic amount of time. Just lays beside you and takes in every soft detail of your face, traces his fingertips over your features. He finds himself wondering, what if he married you instead? What if you met sooner? What if you lived with him and had his babies one day?
What if… he left his wife?
He has to stop himself there. He makes a pained noise and buries his face in your hair again because he knows he can’t think like that. He could leave his wife; he probably should, but he feels like he owes her his life, his devotion. He married her, for fucks sake.
And even if he did leave, he doubts you’d ever be capable of having a healthy and stable relationship. People in these situations rarely do; it’s a form of karma, he thinks. Husbands who cheat and marry their mistresses often get cheated on, or they end up do it again.
He swears, fucking swears on his life that he would never do that to you. But he knows you probably wouldn’t trust him; any woman in your situation wouldn’t. You’d always be left wondering if he’d turn around and do the same to you one day.
Oh, Jungkook, how badly you’ve fucked up…
He has no idea how much time has passed by the time he checks the little alarm clock on your bedside table. He honestly can’t recall when he got here or what time ‘one more night’ started, but as of now, it’s 5 am.
He wants to stay. Wants to fall asleep holding you, wake up and make you breakfast, draw you a cozy bath and massage your back for you… wants to treat you as a lover would.
But he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon, he won’t leave at all. The moment you open your eyes, he will beg again. He will cry and beg and plead for you to change your mind.
Which is way too selfish, considering he’s still a coward, still unwilling to leave his wife both out of fear and knowing the reality of what happens once he does.
So he places one last kiss on your forehead, breathes you in one last time, and then quietly extracts himself from your hold. Standing up and getting off the bed, he looks down at you.
He swears he can see the exact place you keep his stolen heart inside of you. He doesn’t want it anymore, it’s yours. Always will be.
He slowly starts dressing himself again with robotic-like motions. He isn’t crying anymore; he feels kind of numb at this point, or maybe his tears have just run out.
Acceptance? Or the calm before the storm? He isn’t sure.
He doesn’t bother taking a shower; can’t be bothered right now even if he smells like sex… smells like your sex specifically. He can blame it on being lazy, but he knows it’s because he wants your smell to linger a bit longer. He will shower later.
Once fully dressed he pads his way into the living room, grabs the bag full of stuff he packed for you. He takes it back into your bedroom and sits it at the end of the bed.
He carefully collects each Polaroid he took of you for himself and stuffs them in his wallet for safekeeping. After nearly considering changing his mind and taking the camera greedily, he decides he’ll leave it for you, even though it was a gift you got him. He knows you love it, but also knows you’d never buy one for yourself. And if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think he could ever use it again without thinking of you. It would feel wrong to use it without you.
So he sets that on the end of the bed. He opens the bag, carefully takes out the clothing he packed for you, folds them, and arranges them in a neat pile. Next, he takes out the box of Polaroids; he made sure to put a label on it before coming that said ‘For Y/N.’ He sets the box next to the clothes and then carefully places the chain he packed on top of the pile of clothes.
He wants to arrange it almost as a surprise, hoping it’ll feel more like a gift and not so much like a goodbye this way.
Now that the bag is empty, his intrusive thoughts return. He wants so badly to turn into a little thief and take some of your stuff, too. You would have gladly offered it to him, anything he wanted, but you’re asleep. And he can’t stay much longer.
His intrusive thoughts win, and he can’t find himself feeling too guilty.
So he reaches down and grabs the panties you had on earlier, the same panties that he sucked on like a damn popsicle, and he puts them in the bag.
He quietly makes his way into your bathroom, looks around for a moment until he finds exactly what he’s looking for: the star pimple patches. He takes them, noticing that they’re in a cute little case with a face on it. He knows you love these things; they make pimples feel less like some kind of imperfection. He loves them, too. They remind him of a time when you showered him with love.
You won’t miss them, he thinks again. Not as much as he’ll miss you.
He greedily holds onto them, looks around to see if there’s anything else he can steal. He sees your scarf hanging on the back of your bathroom door; it was the scarf you wore one of the first times he took you to dinner. It’s honestly kind of ugly; it’s a dark and muted plaid, but you loved it because of how soft and warm it is.
It smells very strongly of you.
It’s his now.
He takes the scarf and decides that’s enough. He’s greedy, but he’s not an actual thief. Maybe more like a rat. As much as he wants to steal your shampoo, he decides just to make a mental note of the name because he knows you'll need it to shower when you wake up.
He stuffs the patches and scarf into the same bag and stands before you on the bed. Fuck. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave you.
But now is the perfect time; you’re sleeping soundly, dead to the world. If he leaves like this, there will be no hysterical begging or crying from either party.
Still, he finds himself procrastinating. He decides to open the box of Polaroid photos he packed just to make sure none of the ones he kept for himself snuck their way in. They didn’t. He knows they didn’t. But never hurts to double-check.
He comes across one photo in particular… it was a photo he took one night after you both had some very intense sex. He rented a motel that night because he was in Busan for business, and of course, he dragged you along with him. Busan is his hometown, and his wife has always hated it. She was born and raised in Seoul and always claims Busan is too boring, not lively enough. She always refused to go with him, even if it was to visit his parents.
You, on the other hand, you were so fucking excited to go. You talked his ear off the entire ride there, and once you arrived, you were so interested in everything around you. It was so fucking sweet because you told him the reason you were so excited was because it was a part of him. He was born here, which makes the place sacred. It was dramatic, but god, it was precious.
After you guys fucked that night, you both showered together. You got out of the shower before him, and you snapped a few pictures with the Polaroid; he made sure to put those in the box for you. At some point after, you were lying in the bed watching some cartoon on the motel TV, and he was smoking a cigarette. He noticed a vivid handprint from where he was slapping your ass while fucking you from behind. It was the first time he wasn’t really concerned about it, but proud. Because in some fucked up way, he marked you, even if it was temporary. You were his, and even if you doubted it, he was yours.
It was the same feeling he got tonight when giving you those hickeys. Just a little reassurance that you belong to him.
He took the photo to kind of solidify the feeling, preserve it. It was very aesthetically pleasing. One of his favorites, he’s realizing. He almost wants to take this one.
But instead, he decides to leave it with you, and before he does so he grabs a pin from your desk and writes:
I won’t let you forget us
-Kook
It’s cryptic, he knows. Maybe it’s selfish to leave a message like that… but perhaps it’ll keep you open for him. Not that he expects you to wait for him to get his shit together, god never. But maybe you’ll allow him to check on you now and then, maybe you won’t block his number, maybe, just maybe, you’ll save a piece of your heart for him…
He sets the photo down on top of the pile of folded clothes and steps back. He looks at the clock again, sees that it’s now 5:50 am. He has no idea how time passed that quickly because it only felt like maybe ten minutes had passed. He must have been moving slowly; his brain must have realized how much he was fighting this inevitable end.
As he stares down at your sleeping form, he genuinely considers staying. Considers refusing to leave.
And that’s exactly why he chooses this moment to leave. He has to get the fuck out of here before he does something stupid.
He walks over to you once more, leans down, and places a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your chin, and starts peppering your face with kisses all over again. His heart is pounding fast, and he has the urge to run. With one last kiss to your lips, he yanks himself away and grabs the bag now full of items that don’t belong to him.
He wants to take in your space one last time, wants to linger and look around because this has been his safe space for literal months. But he fucking can’t. He feels his resolve weakening quickly by the second and knows one more second here, and he won’t leave.
He quickly makes his way out of your apartment, is nearly panting as he walks out of your complex and down to his car. His hands are shaking, his heart is beating at a scary pace, and he starts to feel fucking sick.
He borderline throws the bag in his back seat, and then gets into his car quickly. His hands shake so severely that he fumbles with his keys as he starts the engine. The moment the car turns on, he’s peeling out of the parking lot.
It wasn’t acceptance. It was indeed the calm before the storm.
He’s never felt like this before. He feels nauseous and almost panicky as he drives robotically down the morning streets of Seoul. His breathing is coming in so fast he gets dizzy.
It all hits him at once. This is the end. FIN. Over.
He swears he feels his flower die at that very moment. It wasn’t uprooted and moved to another garden; someone fucking stepped on his fully bloomed Bearded Iris. One second he was thriving, flourishing, and now he’s fucking dead.
He doesn’t even recognize the sounds of his own choked sobs as he drives down the street. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking see. He feels like he’s dying, truly, he almost considers calling for help because he feels so full of despair and grief.
But who would he call? His wife? That's a fucking joke. You? He can't call you anymore. He can't call his friends either because none of them know. He's on his fucking own now.
Nothing could have prepared him for what it feels like to grieve the death of a love who is still alive.
He ends up pulling into a random parking lot once he’s a safe distance from your apartment. He slams his palms on his steering wheel and just fucking bawls. Tears fog his eyes, and he sounds almost childish because of the force in which he’s crying.
He knew the day he lost you would be the day that that he died. And right now, he is dying for you.
It isn’t until 10 am that you stir awake. You instinctively reach for him, but your hands only find cold sheets, meaning he left a while ago…
You didn’t expect him to leave so soon. You expected to be able to wake up to him one last time, so you’re disappointed when you realize his clothes aren’t on the floor anymore, and you don’t hear the sounds of him awake and making coffee in the kitchen.
But you suppose that was a smart move. If he had stayed, it would have just made it harder for you both, most likely.
You feel oddly… numb. As of now, no sadness. The only thing you feel is almost like a little zap in your chest; it’s subtle, to the point you aren’t even sure if it’s really there.
It’s off. Somethings not quite right.
You ignore the weird hollow feeling as you sit up and stretch; you realize you never showered, and you smell heavily of sex. So you get out of bed, and you make your way into your bathroom. You start the shower after using the bathroom, and as you wait to warm it up, you look at yourself in the mirror.
Fuck.
You are literally littered with marks. Your neck, all the way down to your chest, all the way down to your thighs. Purple and pink love bites all over you. He seriously fucked you up.
You feel that zap again.
You shake your head and tear your eyes away from the mirror, don’t notice how your star patches are missing from your skincare tub on your bathroom counter yet. You step inside the shower and spend a good while letting the hot water wash over your body, washing the remnants of sex and sweat off of your skin.
After about half an hour, you step out. Dry off. Get dressed. That’s when you walk back into your bedroom and notice the pile of clothing sitting on your bed. Clothing that isn’t yours.
You slowly approach it and quickly recognize the strong scent lingering on it: his cologne. You unhurriedly pick up each piece of clothing, see the shirt and hoodie you often attempted to steal from him, accompanied by one of his favorite jackets.
He left pieces of himself for you.
Zap.
You set them aside and pick up the chain and photo. Fuck, you love his chains. You always loved them because, one, they’re fucking hot, and two, you loved how they would dangle above you when he was fucking you. You doubt he realized it, but sometimes you’d bite it as he was fucking you, tug on it like a damn dog playing with their favorite chew toy just to see if it would break. It never did, and you never stopped being fascinated with his jewelry.
Zap.
You look at the photo and immediately recall the memory. Busan, now one of your favorite places, all because of him. It was such a good little trip. You tried a lot of street food you never had before, saw a lot of pretty things, and he fucked you beautifully that night. It was rough, passionate, and he left hand prints on your ass, and much like him, you loved it. This was one of your favorites, for sure.
But then you read the note.
I won’t let you forget us.
Zap. Zap. Zap.
You drop the photo and the chain on top of the clothes, let out a shaky breathe. Still, you aren’t really feeling much, maybe a bit of nostalgia accompanying the zaps… but no despair, no yearning or grieving…
Calm before the storm.
You decide you need some coffee and painkillers. You have a lingering migraine from all of the wine and crying last night, so you leave your bedroom and make your way into the kitchen.
You start making your coffee and swallow the painkillers dry. You lean against the counter as your coffee brews, then freeze when you look at the floor.
The purple wild flower lays there, stepped on by he-who-shall-not-be-named’s boot. Wilted and destroyed, the petals disconnected from the stem.
The flower is dead.
And now you break.
Those zaps you were feeling, you suddenly understand. It was your fight or flight kicking in again, and instead of your brain responding to it, it blocked it out.
Can’t fight it now.
You drop to your knees, start breathing heavily because you feel like someone placed bricks on your chest. Your heart aches, literally, it hurts, it feels like it’s going to explode and you feel like you can’t breathe at all.
You start crying again… no- you’re fucking wailing. You’re crying out for the loss of your flower, for the death of a lover who isn’t even dead, much like Jungkook had earlier.
It finally hits you that he isn't coming back. He's gone, and now, you're expected to move on. Your heart aches for him. Without him, do you even have a heart?
No, you really don’t, not right now anyway. The moment he stepped out that door, he took it with him. He fucking stole your heart just like he stole your pimple patches and perfume.
All you can do is cry for him, except right now, you don’t have him to cling to for empty comfort. Instead, you reach for the dead wildflower, hold it in your palm, bring it to your chest, and cradle it close as if you can somehow bring it back to life.
Bring him back to you.
Little do you know, he’s currently curled up in his bed at his second apartment. He hasn’t stopped crying since he left. He went back home, took the stolen perfume, and sprayed it all over his damn bed, and now he’s hugging a pillow as if it’s you. Imagining that it’s you, that this is all just a horrible dream, and he will wake up soon.
Both of you are lovers, stars who collided, planets who aligned, flowers who grew side by side.
But it was at the wrong time. And now you’re paying the consequences of your paths crossing when they shouldn't have.
So far away in the matter of hours when you were once so close, yet you’re both doing the exact same thing; clinging to shreds of each other and wishing so fucking badly that things could be different.
Both of you left each other without returning your hearts. Both of your flowers got stepped on instead of uprooted and re-planted somewhere safer.
Spring has passed, no longer bees buzzing and flowers blooming, but the cold harsh winter is coming.
It will be a while before either of you bloom again, if at all.
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slavghoul · 6 months
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Want to know what weird? Henrik Palm was in a band called In Solitude and they sound like pre-lawsuit Ghost. Why can’t Tobias Forge come clean about the ghouls involvement with Ghost?
Just of curiosity, how do you expect me to respond if you come here making statements like this? Like are you trying to shake me up? Do you think I'm gritting my teeth here typing this out? Well boo hoo, unfortunately for you I am a very patient person :-)
Yes, I guess there are some similarities between In Solitude and early Ghost (and a dozen other bands, duh) but they cannot possibly stem from Henrik because he simply wasn't yet involved with Ghost during the time Opus Eponymous or Infestissumam were made. He joined in March 2015 during the recording of Meliora at the recommendation of Klas Åhlund, so I'm not sure if he and Tobias even knew each other prior to that. He was in the band for a little over a year. If you happen to hear any similarities on Meliora, it most likely comes from the fact that Henrik laid all of the lead guitars and bass on that album, and every guitarist has their own unique way of playing. The extent of his involvement isn't a secret, it's not forbidden knowledge guarded by the evil Tobias Forge. He was a valued member of the band, literally so - he had the highest salary from all the ghouls, probably because Tobias knew what an asset to the band he was. He is a very skilled musician and there is also no denying that Meliora would not have sounded the way it does if it hadn't been for his contributions in the studio as the guitarist. But he did not write any of the songs. He played them according to the demos prepared by Tobias and Martin, and based on Tobias's instructions, which he made very clear had to be followed exactly the way he explained them, and no diversion was allowed. As a matter of fact, there was an instance during the recordings when Tobias got pissed about someone changing something, and it had to be re-recorded the way he intended. It was a minor thing and if such a minor thing put him off balance, how do you imagine he'd allow actual significant changes to his work?
How come none of the lawsuit-ghouls' claims pertained to music ownership and royalties? How come none of them came forward with a claim or evidence that they are the rightful creators of song X, Y, or Z? Simple, because they did not create them. Those who were involved, anyone who actually collaborated with TF on the writing of the music, had been properly credited and is getting their royalties every month. By the way, does it not speak volumes that Martin Persner, the only ghoul who had an actual, palpable impact on the band (musical, visual, and other), did not sue Tobias and speaks of him highly to this day, despite their personal differences?
Listen, I actually have no issue discussing the lawsuit as it is part of the band's history and I understand it piques people's curiosity, but man, it's been almost 7 years. It's over, the case was settled meaning they reached some kind of an agreement. So let's move on maybe.
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a-secret-inner-life · 4 months
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I came across a lot of stuff that I could relate to about autism while researching for a paper, which led me to do more research on autism in general. I saw some other people doing this type of post on here, so: autistic people, can you please read my super long and detailed list of possible symptoms I experience and tell me if it seems like I'm one of you? I'm trying to be objective and reasonable and figure out what's going on with myself here.
Sensory Stuff
I like to stim–bouncing my legs, tapping my feet when I sit, occasionally swinging my legs or rocking. I also clench my fists or sit on my hands a lot and tap my fingers on things, or just fiddle with whatever is in front of me. Recently, I count while touching my thumb to each of my fingertips to calm down because someone in a book I read did that and it actually does help me. I also sing the alphabet song repeatedly when I'm working on my website.
Sometimes when I'm very tired or overwhelmed my face feels itchy and I feel like every strand of hair touching me prickles and itches and leaves a red spot (but it doesn't actually).
I have a strong hatred for perfume because it smells too strong and fakey, and citrus scents also drive me nuts, but I really like scented candles.
I'm a super picky eater, although I'm not as bad as when I was a kid. I don't mind the taste of tomatoes, peppers, or onions in things, but I'm still a little grossed out when I know I'm eating them, and the texture of onions freaks me right out, as an example.
I get startled easily. Loud noises don't actually scare me, they just jolt me out of whatever thought space I was in before I heard them.
I also get overwhelmed whenever someone tries to talk to me in a loud car (whether it's loud with other people or just the engine), and I find it overwhelming and incredibly difficult to concentrate when more than one person is talking at once. Whenever I'm in a crowd, it just sounds like this vague roar that gets louder the more I think about it, which can sometimes be overwhelming. Still, I'm good at tuning some things out in select circumstances, like the TV when it's on.
Finally, if I pay attention at pretty much any time when there isn't a ton of other noise, I can hear ringing in my ears. This isn't usually upsetting, and I know it's fairly common for anyone to get tinnitus from time to time, but I'm not sure if most people experience it this much.
Social Stuff
I can not handle eye contact.
I'm also really, really, comically bad at social interactions. I almost never speak to someone I don't know well before they speak to me, and my go-to conversation method is to laugh/giggle and nod, I literally can not make actual conversation to save my life. Sometimes I think of things to say but it doesn't occur to me to say them, or I try to but I'm scared and can't find an opening, or I do say the thing and people don't react the way I want them to (usually it's either confusion or disinterest).
Old ladies are my favorite people because they're the least scary somehow. I also love kids, but I'm still awkward so I rarely interact and probably still freak them out.
I'm horrible at keeping contact and I wait until I know people are offline to reply to their messages because conversation is stressful and I need time to think when I text. Group chats are a nightmare, so I pretty much ghost everyone when I'm in one.
I'm super attached to my family, though. I make an effort to create a deep bond with each of my siblings, and I'm the clingiest person in the world when it comes to my older sister.
I value people very deeply, which might be why I find them so intimidating. I love them and I want them to be happy, and I put too much pressure on the situation.
I used to hate being alone, and I still feel guilty or sad whenever I spend too much time by myself, although I actually love to be by myself, a lot of my hobbies and favorite places are solitary, and I usually prefer figuring things out on my own rather than having somebody right there trying to figure it out with me.
I'm incredibly empathetic. It's not like I can automatically sense people's emotions, but I do make an effort to pay attention and understand what they're feeling and why they feel that way. My siblings come and rant to me a lot, and I can be a good diplomat and see both points of view when they argue. I also care, and I always want to make people feel better, though it obviously doesn't always work. Sometimes I'm too empathetic, or maybe too creative, and I stress out about what someone might be feeling when I don't know if it's an actual issue or not.
Patterns and Stuff
I've always been good at remembering my parents’ phone numbers and our zip code, as well as my friends’ birthdays. I work at a grocery store where I find myself reciting the regular customers’ lottery numbers in my head as they're saying them to me.
My dad used to have a verbal checklist of what to bring to work each morning, and I still recite it every time I hear the words “wallet” and “keys” next to each other. Same goes for my old morning checklist that I don't even follow anymore.
I don't adhere to a strict routine in terms of the general structure of my day, but I definitely have a system or pattern for a lot of my specific activities.
Emotional Stuff
I've been obsessed with drawing and painting for as long as I can remember. I write all the time. I think I dedicated myself and a huge chunk of my life to my hobbies. If I like something, I like to think that I make it my own, and that thing permeates who I am.
When I first started listening to BTS, I scoured literally the entire Internet to find every possible hidden track any of the members ever touched, and there were A LOT. Lately I've been obsessed with Keeper of the Lost Cities, and I can't stop talking about the books. I'm also hyper fixated on Tomorrow X Together.
When I start something, I need to finish it, and I'll often think I'm so close to being done only to continue on it for several more hours, trying to hurry up and finish because I need to get it done now. I'm also pretty bad at switching tasks. I try to multitask, but it doesn't really work out.
I can easily forget about my own physical needs; particularly I don't usually realize when I'm hungry. Overall my needs are very flexible to the people around me; if you want to eat together, suddenly I'm hungry, if you don't feel like stopping, neither do I.
I'm a perfectionist, but I hate asking for help. This is especially true when it comes to my grades and my hobbies. I'm more comfortable when I can control the variables and nobody has to know if I fail.
I'm pretty sure I have executive dysfunction because I put so much pressure on doing things perfectly that I lose the motivation to do them at all, and as much as I need to get something done, I can't make myself do it.
Since I was little I've always been awkward and out of place. I feel like I take up too much space. Honestly, I feel like my existence is lame and embarrassing. I hate myself.
I absolutely suck at decision making, sometimes because I don't want to choose something that other people won't like and partially because I'm just really indecisive. Often I feel stuck or paralyzed because I can't choose one way or another.
Along those same lines, the responsibility of being told to do something for someone else is terrible, and I hate doing these things without incredibly specific instructions because I'm scared of messing up.
I also need to know exact details of whatever activity I'm doing before I do it, and I hate when something big isn't planned out in detail.
I used to have a lot of meltdowns as a child. I’d yell and cry and throw things when I was upset. This still happens sometimes, but not as frequently or as badly.
I feel guilty about everything, including mistakes from years ago that shouldn't matter anymore. This makes me feel sort of unworthy (?), like anything good I do is the bare minimum and if I cause a problem (through anxiety or executive dysfunction) that messes up a project, I feel like I have to do everything else perfectly to make up for it, although I usually end up feeling like I'm coddling myself instead.
I constantly compare myself to others. If someone else has a problem that's worse than what I deal with, I feel like I'm not allowed to have my own negative feelings.
I feel like none of my feelings are valid. I feel and think all sorts of dramatic things that seem like the end of the world, but compared to others, my problems are small, and I feel stupid for having them. I almost wish I had a bigger issue or more dangerous mental problems that would make my responses more reasonable, but my logical side knows that this thinking is wrong.
I've been dealing with off and on burnout since I was around twelve years old (so about five years). I've been told over and over that my mindset is wrong and I need to do a million things better mentally to be less of a perfectionist, but I don't have the energy to put in any effort whatsoever to fix myself. I still get random bursts of motivation that last for short periods of time, though.
Sometimes when I go to bed after a stressful day, I wake up in the morning and I have this uncontrollable dread about starting my day. The thought of getting up sounds impossible, and it's almost like there's something sitting in my chest keeping me down.
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allamericansbitch · 5 months
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Im asking your opinion because I myself don't know how to feel. Taylor keeps saying she doesn't want her work to be about her exes but then keeps throwing "winks" at fans like am I supposed to believe she didn't know "Blue Dress on A Boat" would make fans immediately associate that song with HS? Am I supposed to pretend she didn't mean for people to see that she liked that old tweet? Am I supposed to pretend the multiple synchronized unfollows were all a coincidence? Am I supposed to pretend she didn't know it would make headlines when she got on stage and said 'I love you, you know who you are' admist the Matty rumors?
Media outlets aren't doing research on every single thing taylor does, fans are. That's where the articles come from, news articles are basically just a bunch of tweets/tiktoks on a list format nowadays. So if she says she doesn't want this kind of attention why does she keep doing it?
It reminds me of the time she went to the Ellen show and roasted Joe Jonas for dumping her over the phone (she also edited a Myspace post about him to imply he cheated), he had to make multiple statements about it. I'm not in the business of defending Joe Jonas and Taylor was a teenager back then, it's just that sometimes it feels like not much has changed. Her last public breakup was with Calvin Harris and look how that went. He did literally tweet that she should just leave him alone if she's happy in a new relationship.
I just don't know what to think. It feels very juvenile. I'm too old to think it's cool to be subtweeting people for drama, making sure to be photographed with the girls and then they all go home to unfollow the ex. I think I need to take a break from her again. It felt like we were finally done with the "Joever" comments and there she goes again, in my eyes it just makes Joe Alwyn look better because he has said absolutely nothing about her.
.
ps: fans say she is a mastermind that does everything with intention but when we say 'hey maybe when she liked that tweet she should have known it would cause this' we're the crazy ones.
I’m in the exact same boat. She genuinely is just repeating history and the history is almost 10 years old at this point. She hasn’t really matured much and is feeding this parasocial beast she created. She very much knows her fanbase is immature and cares about this stuff and she takes advantage of it. And it sucks because it works every single time. No one recognizes the pattern of: break up, immediately start trashing them through ‘sources’ or directly in the media and start very public dating someone new and show them off like a trophy to make the ex look bad. All of it is exhausting and so immature and the fact that she’s a grown ass adult still behaving like she did when she was a teenager is crazy.
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luellasplanet · 1 year
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question..? (lena oberdorf)
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word count: 829
i must say this is rather rushed and I will redeem myself with another lena fic soon
based on taylor swift’s song ‘question..?’
in which you make out with a random girl in a club, who happens to be named lena oberdorf
Sitting alone at a crowded bar in a foreign country was definitely a recipe for disaster. But you weren’t technically alone, your friends were on the other side of the room flirting with some random older men, but you really couldn’t be bothered to join in.
The city of Wolfsburg was breathtaking, you had never really left your small home town in Portugal that often. But given the opportunity to go to university in Wolfsburg was simply an offer one could not turn down.
big city, wrong choices
You had just ordered another drink, one that was not needed, when a large group of girls walked through the door, one instantly catching your attention. The friendly smile she sent you instantly created butterflies in your stomach as you turned away quickly while focusing on the barman handing you your drink.
“Y/n/n! Come dance!” The voice of one of your best friends, Cate, interrupts your train of thought as she grabs your hand, pulling you towards the dance floor. Your half full drink long forgotten as you danced along to the music.
Lena, who was standing in the corner of the bar with Lynn, was watching you intently. “Go talk to her.” She tells Lena pushing her shoulder urging her to go onto the dance floor.
Cate and your other friend, Ana, had walked off the dance floor trying to locate you, they looked around until Ana saw two figures in one of the darker corners of the bar. One that looked awfully familiar. “Shut up, don’t fucking tell me that’s y/n” she says pointing towards the corner. Cate turns her vision to where Ana was looking to see you and a mystery girl passionately locking lips. “No fucking way.”
can i ask you a question? did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room?
How did you end up in that position? You pressed up against the wall while mystery girl placed kisses all along your neck while your hands were entangled in her hair as you lightly tugged on it when she kissed certain spots.
You don’t know, and you most certainly wouldn’t remember tomorrow morning.
But a new fact you learnt that night, is that Germans are bloody good at flirting, and they’re even better when they are slightly intoxicated.
You walked back towards your friends after one of the German girl's friends dragged her away,
and every single one of your friends was making fun of you
“Since when did you start kissing random people in bars?” Ana asks extremely loudly, causing most people in earshot to turn to the three of you. “Oh my god! That’s why you didn’t want to speak to those guys with us! You wanted to speak to her. Oh my god, y/n/n has a crush!”
You pulled both Ana and Cate towards the balcony where the three of you could talk at normal levels without having to shout.
Your glare was almost as sharp as a dagger as Cate’s eyes instantly travelled to your neck which had already started to develop little purple bruises on it. The lighting of the balcony made it easier for them to see your dishevelled makeup and hair.
“My god could you focus on my face and not my neck,” you mutter as you take a deep breath trying to calm you racing heart. “I need a shot,” you tell practically no one as you turn back around and into the bar yet again.
The music blasted through the speakers as you ordered a shot you definitely didn’t need. As you reach into your pocket to find your card you feel a hand on your back as you look up to see mystery girl yet again, paying for your drink.
“Oh you didn’t have to do that,” you tell her as she hands you your shot. “It’s not a problem,” she answers.
God that accent could literally make you melt in seconds.
You hadn’t taken the shot yet so the confidence the alcohol had given you a mere hour ago was long gone, leaving you a stuttering mess as you spoke to the taller German in front of you. “Um… I was wondering if I could get your number by any chance? If not, don't worry but um yeah…” you looked up at her after speaking, but were met with nothing but a small smile as she gestured for your phone.
She quickly typed her number and name into the phone before handing it back to you, “I’m Lena by the way, maybe we can do this again sometime?” She asked while rubbing the back of her neck.
“I’d love that!”
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elusiveclownbox · 24 days
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SOME ANDREIL/NEIL/ANDREW CODED SONGS (in my humble opinion)(with links to listen)
(because i have the biggest brainrot, they’re also just great songs so please give them a listen!)
Neath The Grove Is A Heart
Yaelokre
“Home is where we are now. Home is where you are. Home is where I am standing. Where I'Il be staying forever now”
this entire post is just gonna be my biased interpretations of songs but honestly the entire song gives vibes to me…the places that one would refer to as “home” being a constant ever changing cycle of different places, never being able to stay and settle in a physical place. but finding a home in someone else.
Room By Room
Shayfer James (I’ve almost exclusively been listening to him, so the rest of the songs are his oops)
“If the keys in my hand turned a lock of your hair I would walk through the glance, but I'd stop at the stare. And I'd follow it down To the very last step and I'd wait by the room where your secrets are kept”
THOSE ARE THE FIRST LYRICS cmon mannnn,,,learning the brutal past of someone you love as they allow you in, do i even need to say it?
First Date
Shayfer James
“Tell me your story, and I'll tell you mine, I think we will get along fine. Tell me your riddle, I'll tell you my rhyme, I think we will get along fine. And if the rules change, don't hesitate to say you've had enough of me”
It’s literally the whole beginning of their relationship, a truth for truth, trade for trade. The game of, maybe not necessarily originally trust, but of mutual understanding that grows into trust and respect.
Your Father’s Son
Shayfer James
“So if you're any good at bluffing, I suggest you do it quick 'cause everyone is next to nothing, and every tock will have a tick. It fits so well. What you've become is your father's son which will never be much of anyone”
Oh Neil, you poor boy cowering in the shadow of your father, his legacy locked within your image and the face you share with him. No matter what new name and identity you create, you know your father will never be far behind, you will always be his son. At least, that’s how it used to be.
Learning to Be Lost
Shayfer James
“I am a plagiarized autobiography of wreckage, a shipwreck in sheep's clothes. Be patient with me, I am learning to be lost. Don't be gentle. Never gentle. Be mindful of me, I will sink at any cost”
This I feel resonates more with Andrew, but one could argue resonates with both. They both have tortured pasts that are unspeakable to almost all but each other, but Andrew shoves that past and those memories behind a face of calm indifference and apathy. But they are both navigating a relationship with each other that they are unfamiliar with, and didn’t necessarily intend to enter. As they reveal bit and bit of their pasts, they don’t want pity or sympathy, their pasts are what created them and they refuse to be treated as though they are broken, especially Andrew.
Lullaby
Shayfer James & Kate Douglas
“People can't be trusted and we have to fight to stay alive. We'll always be the enemy, oh. Eye for eye and limb for limb, The blood that I've been swimming in, oh. Mother, I've grown tired of this. Mother, I've grown tired of this. There's beauty and there's empathy, some people might've cared for me. I hid my heart, and stayed inside, instead of moving with the tide”
THIS IS ALLLLL NEIL BABYYY. Blindly continuing to follow his mother’s words and advice, she kept him safe for so long after all (in her own way). He trusted that she loved him, wanted to protect him, but he missed out on so much because of her. Missed out on friends and life in general, people who might have been able to actually help him. If it wasn’t for meeting people more stubborn than him, for wanting to just exist for once, he could’ve been on the run and never settling for so much longer. Or have died.
Carve A Smile
Shayfer James
“And with every kiss you make a better man of me. The safe disguise of accidental lies won’t hide us here, no more, my dear. And I would sacrifice the air that makes my body breathe, if it keeps you safe”
They are both so willing to put themselves in harms way to protect the other, even before they came to realize just how much the other meant to them. Andrew with the intention of winning, and Neil half the time not caring if he ends up dead as long as Andrew is alright.
PLEASE DROP YOUR OWN SONG REQS i love good music.
anyway if anyone has actually made it to this point thank you for listening to my babbling. I can associate any and every song i listen to to whatever i am currently hyper fixating on and i need to express it outwardly. Hopefully yall like the music at least, even if you disagree with my interpretations!
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pearldog30 · 1 year
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Ghost has a sister? Pt2
All right so this is part 2 to ghost has a sister. and this one is so cute, y'all enjoyed the last one, so much. it made my heart melt, I genuinely didn't think y'all were going to like it. but you did, so here we are! Also if y'all want like a reference song to them, mockingbird by Eminem is 1,000% them Idc IDC! It's literally their bond and it makes me cry 😭 (Read part 1 here first if you didn't) here's part 3
Simon Riley X little sister reader
Other works 👉Master list
Warnings| one word mention of death, fluff.
as you sit in your bed staring at the wall, thinking about life, and the fact it's been almost 8 months since that first encounter with your brother, Simon Riley. you can't believe it's been that long, you honestly felt like it's been longer. especially since you've still been in foster care the whole time, and still currently are. but you couldn't complain too bad, you were grateful your brother decided to actually try to create a bond with you. and well it was Rocky in the beginning with y'all only texted a tiny bit, you would maybe send him letters, or something when he would go on missions somethings. but as the months went by he started opening up and coming around more, texting more, sending letters back. which eventually led to very rare phone calls, and now he calls you practically every day to bother you. And you were grateful for it, grateful for all of it. The fact that you actually have someone there to talk to. about your past, and that wouldn't run off from you. because well. you guys both went through the same thing, it may have not happened together, or at the same time, but it happened. while you may not share the same mom, it never changed anything. To him you were still his sister, even if it meant you guys only share the same dad, it didn't matter to him. you told him about everything, through multiple breakdowns on phone calls/text because you've never had anyone. the only person you had was sadly murdered by your guys's abusive father. Which is how you ended up in foster care.
You both may not like to admit it, but he's actually done a lot for you. Even though in the beginning it felt like he hated you. he would often send you money that you didn't ask for. So that he knew you could go out buy new clothes, and some extra stuff that you wanted, or snacks. He knew the foster care would take care of you, but he also knew they wouldn't give you money to go buy whatever. so that's where he stepped in. you've told him multiple times to stop, but he never listened. he'd also never let you give him the money back. so you kind of just had to deal with it.
You were snapped out of your thoughts, when you catch your phone screen light up next to you. picking up your phone looking at it, you see it's from your brother.
Skelly
Him: Hey kid. where do you want to eat tomorrow?
You: I don't know it's your birthday you choose
Him: can you just fuckin pick!
You: no sorry, Skelly
Him: I told you to stop calling me that
You: oh well Skelly deal with it choose where you want to eat
Laughing to yourself. you decide to turn your phone off, to leave him to decide since it was his birthday. he told you he never celebrated it, and you talked him into celebrating it, because to you he deserved it. You even got him to bring the 141 along for his birthday since he actually agreed to celebrate it for once. and you were more than happy, thrilled actually. properly meet them, well it's not like you haven't talked to them you've talked with price, soap, Alejandro, a little bit when you're on call with him, and they're around but that's about it. so you're excited to actually see what they're about. You turn on your side, pulling the sheets up, drifting off to sleep.
_________________________
The next morning.
You slowly drift your eyes open, hearing the sound of your alarm screaming at you to wake up, to get your day started. Groaning as you reach your hand over to turn the obnoxious alarm off. you hated mornings always have, never really been a morning person. You lay there contemplating your decisions on to lay in bed and get an extra hour of sleep, or to get up and get your daily routine started, and just wait for the late afternoon to come so you can go see your brother. but as soon as that thought jumps into your mind, you're wide awake so the extra hour of sleep is thrown out the window.
Even though you've seen each other quite a few times, it still made you nervous. especially that since today was his birthday, and you were meeting his entire crew. you are always nervous around new people, especially men. so even though you were happy to see your brother, you were also very nervous. You get up, get your day started. pick out your outfit, make sure you have your present for him in your bag. and just wait for the time to come. You hear your caretaker call for you, so you go to where they are. Concerned if something happened to the plans.
"hey going to have to drop you off to Simon at the base. because I just got work that called in so if that's okay we're going to have to leave now." Your caretaker says, and you're relieved that the plans didn't get changed. The car right there was pretty silent, as usual you never mind it though. You pull up to the gates and it's the same old why are you here, ID, yada yada yada. you just kind of zone out, just too excited to see your brother again. But this time though when you pull up Simon is different. he's not in his usual military clothes he's in some regular civilian clothes, and you're kind of in shock at this whole different of person. no vest, no tactical pants, no gloves, nothing. just him in regular jeans, with his black leather jacket, and his dog tags. but the shocking part of it all was there was no mask! he was not ghost no, he was Simon your brother.
Simon looks up from one of the men he was talking to. who you assumed was 141 who was coming along, noticing he puts his cigarette out. looking at you, waiting for you to get out of the car. and you do rather quickly, you haven't seen him in a few months due to his long deployment. and you're more than happy that he's back and alive. You tell your caretaker goodbye, before closing the door hearing her say she'll come by later and pick you up. "How you doing there little sis" he says. when you go to embrace him into a hug, you knew he never liked physical touch. well neither of you did, but y'all were each other's one exception. "I'm okay Skelly did you figure out where you want to eat" you say trying not to laugh. you knew he would kill you saying that in front of whoever he was standing next to. Sighing already annoyed "no Johnny said there's this good burger and wing place so I guess we're going there" he says, looking down at you. Pretty much towering over you, that was the one thing you hated, he always picked on you about it.
"oh shit Simon is this your little sister" the man standing next to him interrupts curiously. Simon turn around looking back to him, forgetting he was there. "Oh yeah this is y/n, y/n this is gaz." He says looking back to you. you guys exchange hellos, as you wait for the rest of the 141 to come out. About 5 minutes go by and Simon's getting annoyed " what the hell is taking them so long" saying pissed off, before sending gaz into grab them. And before you know, it they're all walking out. and you know 3 of them, the other 1 you've never seen before, but he looks like a shorter version of Alejandro. "Sorry we didn't realize we were actually leaving right now" prices as he gets out his car keys walking to his car. "Are we all riding in the same car" Scottish accent speaks up, and you know exactly who it, is your buddy soapy boy. "I don't know me and y/n are going to ride in my car" your brother says as everybody else goes along with price "sounds good" price says.
It's a quiet little walk to his car, a very nice one. you knew Simon was always smart with money, so of course he would have a nice car. When y'all get, in you quickly call dibs on the Bluetooth. "Fuckkk come on man don't be playing none of that mean stupid shit whatever you do" he says knowing you're up to something. "I would never do that to you Simon it's your birthday" you say chuckling. and he knows you're up to no good, you hear him Huff out in annoyance. As he starts the car and starts pulling out of where he's parked. As your phone connects to the Bluetooth, your scrolling through music. before you pick a song he stops you. "Before you start I have something important to tell you" he turns his head to you, then back to the road. And how he says it, makes you nervous. so you just shake your head. "So you remember that nice house I was talking about getting" and this sentence makes you stop. You're hoping to God he didn't get rejected, because he's been talking about this house for a while. And all you want to do is see your brother happy for once. "Yeah well we got it, will be moving in in about a month. so get ready kid things are about to get crazy" he says happily. and you're just looking at him in shock. What does he mean by WE, he told you from the beginning he wasn't going to take you in. and now he bought a house that you guys are moving into. he doesn't even have your adoption papers, or guardianship, what is he thinking. he doesn't even have time for you.
"Simon what do you mean WE" you say wanting answers. "Well there's something I didn't tell you about. I did some talking with price, and your caretaker, and they said as long as I got a house, and since I have a good job. I can technically be your legal guardian and you can live with me. for now on I don't want you living somewhere else, where I don't know where you are. it's not safe I can't do that. Not again" he whispers the last part trying to make sure you don't hear. and for once you see there's a bit of vulnerability in him. You can feel tears In your eyes starting to swell up, you never thought he would do anything like this for you. go through the trouble of buying a house just for you. But it also makes you question what does he mean by not again. "Yeah but Simon what about your job" you say choking a bit. knowing he could die any day, and then what would happen to you. "Don't worry about it kid, I got that under control. I just want you to be happy so don't worry about it" he says, trying to soothe your nerves. he always does this he hates seeing, you stressed, worried, upset.
After that the car ride is silent. Until he puts on his '80s music that you only tolerate for him. You always wondered why his old ass likes this stuff. As y'all pull into the restaurant, you guys noticed the others aren't there yet. so you decide to give him his present as you wait "oh yeah Simon I got you a present I know it's not a lot but I hope it's something" you say digging in your bag pulling out a little small box, handing it to him in his big hands. Looking at you almost shocked as if you weren't allowed to get him anything. "Thanks kid" he says as he opens it and he just stares at it. (This is the present click here) "do you like it" you say. You see him taking it out of it's little box, and putting it around his wrist. "yeah I do" smiling at it. and this is the first time you've seen him genuinely smile at something, you don't see often. Before y'all are both interrupted with banging on the Windows. From none other than soap himself making you jump, and Simon just sign heavily to himself annoyed.
Opening the door you hear soap. "Come on hurry up I'm hungry" he says. ushering you guys out of the car and up to the restaurant. "Johnny really. you really had to do that" your brother says, getting annoyed with him. And you're already loving how this shit show is going to go down. "Yeah yeah I did" Johnny says patting him on the back, before he opens the door for you guys. "Ladies first" gesturing Simon in and then the rest of the 141 "fuck off sergeant" Simon says giving him a warning. As y'all walk in, you hear a heavy Hispanic accent next to you. "How's everything going with you kid" Alejandro says looking at you. "I'm doing okay" you say kind of forgetting he was there. getting too lost in the bickering of the other 2. Standing in the middle of this big large group of men. you kind of feel out of place, but just happy to be with your brother. As they're all getting lost in conversation, you kind of just stand next to Simon in the sidelines waiting for y'all's table. "Right this way" you hear a waitress snap everybody away from conversation, gesturing you guys to y'all's table.
You get to your table, and it's one of those big booths. and since you're the smallest you're stuck in the middle. but it's not too bad at least you have Simon on your left, but then Johnny is on your right... As soon as you get seated, y'all order your drinks as well. "So Minnie Simon how's school going" price says staring at you from across the booth. "It's going okay" you say with a smile before you're interrupted, with Johnny next to you. "Any boys involved Simon has to worry about" he says with tease. trying to get on Simon's nerves, and this just makes everybody at the table, stop and stares at you and Simon. Simon giving you that deathpan stare "no" you say cheeks heating up, not wanting to hear it from your brother. "Better not be" your brother says with a huff under his breath. But before the conversation can carry on, y'all are interrupted with your drinks. which you are more than grateful for, but you see Johnny with this huge ass thing of beer."Johnny you're really not going to drink all that, remember what happened last time." price says not sounding too happy. "Come on it'll be fine captain" Johnny says before he takes one big swig.
You get lost in conversation. watching everybody bicker over missions, or stupid things that they did, or about get on each other's nerves. And honestly you never thought this would make you so happy watching this all go down. But then you remember. "Hey Skelly, I forgot to tell you but there's this prom thing coming up. and I kind of want to go" you say turning to your brother. and you hear Alejandro, and Johnny, spit out their drinks. looking at them confused. "I'm sorry. but Skelly" Johnny says through tears. And you can tell your brother is about to jump over you and slap him. As price, and gaz, are just shaking their head. and Johnny, Alejandro is losing it. As Alejandro's trying to catch his breath on a shoulder of a man, you still don't know the name of. "Lt that's going to be your new name Skelly the Lt" Johnny says after calming down from laughter. "Johnny boy I'd stop that, before he deck slams you. we remember what happened last time" prices already over it. "What about this prom thing" Simon says trying to change the conversation. "Oh yeah I just need someone to drop me off, I already have money saved up for the dress. could you pleasesssss do that" you say. giving him puppy dog eyes. And you can tell he's crumbling "finee just let me know what time" your brother says giving in. "Ooh what kind of dress is it, it has to be big, down in Mexico when me and Rudy had ours everybody always went all out. you have to it's tradition" Alejandro says gesturing to the man next to him who you assume is now Rudy. Rudy shaking his head along agreeing with him. "Nothing fancy, just something small so I can have money left" you say happily, and this makes your brother stop and look at you. "No don't worry about it I'll pay for it" your brother interrupting you. "N-" before you could finish. "Yes end of discussion" your brother says getting irritated, you always hated when he does this. But you didn't have a choice just to sit back and let it be.
As it gets towards the end of dinner, your brother gets up to use the restroom. and you see Johnny grabbing the attention of one of the waitresses over "hey! It's our Buddy's birthday, he just went to the bathroom. could we get a birthday cake, and sing Happy Birthday but instead of his name. could you say happy birthday Skelly" Johnny says with drunken laughter, knowing what's about to go down. Price trying to stop this but it's too late. The waitress agrees going along to get everything. And before you know it, your brother's back in the booth. sitting calmly, not knowing what's about to happen. When all of a sudden all of you guys see a birthday cake, and tons of people clapping, coming to your table. your brother already know what someone did. Bringing his head down to the table already fuckin over it, before It even starts. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU" everybody says. Putting the cake down on the table, the rest of the guys losing it. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR SKELLY" and that's what made Simon bring his head up, and glare at everybody. As they finished the song, Johnny's on your shoulder crying from laughter. When they leave Simon turns his head to Johnny. "Sergeant you better sleep with one eye open on our next deployment" your brother says in all seriousness, and you're scared for what he's about to do to the poor bastard. "We tried getting him to stop" price says butting in. Y'all enjoy the cake, and the rest of your evening before it gets a little later.
Simon pays for you and his meal. And y'all adventure off to his car to go back to the base. "Simon did you like your birthday" you say with your hopes up. "Actually you know what, kid I did" he says looking back to you, raffling his hand in your hair. "Come on Simonnnnnn can you not" you say, trying to get his strong hand off your head. But you got your revenge back, when you got in the car and you got a hold of the Bluetooth. annoying him with your music, you always loved the moments like these. where you could feel like the kid. The car ride back to the base was fun for you, annoying for Simon. Simon pulls in back to the same building, y'all were at earlier. He looks around and sees your caretaker isn't quite there yet, so you wait outside with him. And you see the other guys pull up "HEYYY PEOPLE" Johnny says drunkenly getting out of the car. Gaz gesturing him in the building to go to bed. As everybody else kind of follows, you can't blame them it was late and everybody was kind of tired.
You finally see your caretaker pull up. And you see her getting out of the car to talk to Simon and you, before you guys head off. "How was it" your caretaker says happily. "It was fun" you say smiling. Happy that you got to spend the day with your brother. "All right well we better get going you got school in the morning" she says looking back to Simon. Saying your goodbyes to your brother. as he stands from the door, watching you follow your caretaker to her car when.........
And that's going to be the end for this. I know this is actually probably shit but I struggled okay. I hope at least one of you enjoys this. if you want part 3 please request! reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🖤 as always I hope you are having a good day/night wherever You are
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stardewlily · 5 months
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The most beautiful, breath-taking illustration of my story A Night in the Garden by the utterly amazing @potatoaiisle
I have so many things I want to say about this that I decided to put them below the cut as I know most people will just want to see the picture! But for you, my dear friend Aya, please read on because my heartfelt thanks await you below...
I feel like I have to explain/excuse myself before I even start on this picture. I know I can come across as way too intense sometimes because, well, when you're autistic you feel everything so strongly it's almost painful. A song's lyrics can have you sobbing like your heart's about to break and a beautiful sight can fill you so full of joy you feel like you just want to pour yourself into the thing that has gripped you so much and never leave it.
For example, I remember when I was a kid I used to sit under my grandparent's fruit trees, so entranced by the pretty blossoms that I'd just giggle with delight and play with the petals for hours.
This is how your art makes me feel and I just need to tell you. I need you to know that the things you create lift my little autistic soul up so high I feel like I'm lost in the blossoms again :)
Your drawings are so unique, so magical, they have a depth, life and richness unlike any other artist I've ever seen. It's like their works are two dimensional and yours are three. It's the only way I can describe it. And this picture… this picture… oh my god. It's the most magical thing I've ever seen. When I wrote this scene I never dreamed it could look this beautiful. I literally do not have any words that can fully express my gratitude for the way you've captured this.
But more than that, the way you've drawn Seb this time… you've broken me, you've literally broken me. I've seen people draw him cute, pretty, hot, even beautiful, but this, this is beyond all that… he's perfect, his face, his hair, his body, every single line makes me want him so bad… oh, Aya, you just made me fall for him all over again.
I'm crying right now because I'm so happy, so utterly in love with this picture, with Seb and with you for creating this for me.
Thank you. So much.
My blossom pile is very high right now :)
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raainberry · 8 months
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Hiii i just read that you wanted some song+idol ideas. So how about a jeongyeon and fem reader short fic with Twice's Ice Cream?
Waves
« Emotions come in waves, and the purpose of that wave is to try to create an urge to act on the emotion. »
Jeongyeon x gn!reader
Fluff (?)
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synopsis - teaching your passion is all fun and games until you fall for one of your customers
word count - 1.1K
T/W - Food (mentions)
A/N - Thanks for the request! It was a nice combo, I actually enjoyed writing this one. I only made it into a gn reader bc it’s the way I write, I hope it’s alright with you. Hopefully you find the hidden references to the song ;) Also got inspired by surfer Jeongyeon, never forgot her and I’ll make sure no one does. Hope you like surfing or else this is gonna be awkward.
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A whole afternoon of surfing would sound like more than enough to anyone remotely enjoying the sport, right?
For you it wasn’t even close. You would stand on your board the whole day if you could.
You liked to think your experience would allow it. Not the sea, though. Even the water needed a break from the tumbling.
You usually only stopped when it did, and sat down on your board to cool off as you floated around, appreciating the environment you were so familiar with.
Unlike the majority of Earth’s population, you’ve never been far from the sea. Your parents owned and ran a small but successful surfing school in Busan. As instructors, they happened to be a bit tougher on you, but you eventually became their proudest graduate. Your talent even allowed them to promote you to the same title as theirs.
That was about five years ago. Five years prior to your first encounter with her.
Your favorite ‘student’.
When you learned her name, the last thing you expected was for your brain to get stuck stuck on loop over it.
Jeongyeon.
You smiled to yourself at the mere thought of her.
She was all you seemed to think about. Her name alone managed to warm your chest enough, to the point you’d feel your heart melt.
She had come in for a few lessons a few months ago, always with a friend or two. However that didn’t keep you from getting closer to the woman, and it wasn’t long until you stopped using lessons as excuses to see her.
You probably would have continued for a while if it weren’t for her. She was the one to ask you out first.
“I think I’m ready to take on a few waves on my own, what do you think?”
The water was gentle that morning, carrying you the same way it did any other day. You took in your surroundings as usual, letting your eyes get pulled wherever they pleased. The scenery was particularly memorable, as if it knew about what was to come. Wanting to remember it, you pictured it all in your mind, trying to retain every little detail.
“Like… without me around?” You asked hesitantly.
She was more than ready. However, a very selfish part of you couldn’t help but feel hurt by her thoughts.
You focused on the landscape surrounding you in order to keep your emotions in check.
The moon was slowly retreating to leave room for the sun. The light color was filling the sky as the day settled itself. The early morning clouds, and the sweet, gentle breeze that came with them. The smell of iodine, and salt in the air, coming from the water surrounding you. The endless blanket of sand covering the shore. The houses hidden behind the cliff and trees bordering that same shore, no doubt sheltering people still deep into their slumber. And of course… Jeongyeon smiling at you from her own board a couple feet away.
Your eyes stopped at that last detail, just like your heart almost did before getting ahold of itself to keep you alive.
You’d only known her for a week by then.
How or why it had happened, you didn’t know, but you had grown to care about her in ways no professional should.
Every glance at her was a painful reminder of that.
Sure there were no actual rules against dating one of your customers. This wasn’t school and you quite literally ran the place, but still…
You had dealt with a fare share of attractive customers. Your own convictions and passion for the sport made it easy for you not to cross the line.
But with her it seemed to do the exact opposite.
With every lesson that passed, the air seemed to constrain with every glance you shared, making it hard for you to breathe in between the laughs she caused.
“That’s kind of what I paid for, no?” She joked once more, pulling you out of your thoughts with yet another laugh.
“Right.”
“Why, are you gonna miss me?” She teased.
Another thing of hers you liked. She hadn’t stopped since she met you. It felt as if it were her favorite hobby. Teasing you.
Oh, how you wished it was.
“Kind of.” You admitted, surprising even yourself.
She could tell that, you knew by the small chuckle that left her lips shortly after.
“What do you say we go for ice cream? As a thank you, it’ll be my treat.”
You smiled despite how much you disliked the hidden goodbye her words let transpire. You couldn’t help it when she was doing the same in front of you.
“Show me you’re actually ready. Then I’ll think about it.”
Needless to say you went out for ice cream with her that day.
And the week after.
And the next.
A four hour long train to meet her every time.
For months.
Until you couldn’t anymore.
“I’m leaving next week.”
Your eyes lifted from the banana split between the two of you.
“For tour.” She added. “We won’t be able to meet like this for a while.”
You knew that. You had known for weeks. She hadn’t kept it a secret.
Yet it hit you just as hard as if she had.
“I’m gonna miss this.” She said softly, playing around with her spoon and a bit of vanilla ice cream before bringing it to her mouth.
You bit your bottom lip. Out of worry or at the sight, who knows… A smile rested on her lips. It took you by surprise, but the reason not so much. You always had a great time on these weekly ice cream dates after all.
“I’m gonna miss this too.” You finally said, a sigh replacing the words you held back.
That was hours ago.
The night had settled after what felt like an unusally long day.
After you parted ways with her, after you left her embrace before who knew how long… The day simply felt painfully slow.
You had plenty to do, to occupy your mind with, yet the only thing on it were the words muttered by the singer at lunch.
“We won’t be able to meet like this for a while.”
You sighed at the memory. It seemed so far away now.
Was it dramatic to feel this way?
You had spent so much time with her until now.
Was it selfish to wish for more?
You sighed once more.
One thing was sure, you were going to wait for her. Whether you liked it or not, you’d be there when she’d come back.
But would she?
Was she going to miss you the way you would miss her?
The way she knew you were going to miss her?
It was obvious you were head over heels for her. She never took advantage of that, but she never acknowledged it either.
Sure, she hugged you back.
Sure, she held onto you too.
But it never felt as more than what it was.
Comfort.
Yet she would also look at you, and allow you to see parts of her she seemed to guard carefully from the rest of the world. It made you feel important. Like you mattered to her.
Was it wishful thinking or reality? A twisted mix of both?
There was only one way to know and all it took was a train ride to the capital city.
Four hours was a long time. It allowed you to think and put a plan in place.
“Close your eyes.”
That’s what you would tell her. Right before draining the mess she’d made, melting that heart of yours as easily as the sun would all those ice creams you shared.
“It’s the only way I’ll be able to tell you why I love you.”
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hrts4hanniehae · 5 months
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hi! i saw you were accepting match asks, tysm ♡
personality:
- i am a sentimental person! i keep receipts, tickets, and packaging for memory's sake. i love writing letters to my loved ones and giving them little gifts that remind me of them. i love making people playlists as well ♡
- i'm both introverted and extroverted! i love meeting new people and hearing about their lives, but i wouldn't necessarily be the life of the party.
- i've been through a lot of stuff in my life but i always choose kindness at the end of the day! i just love being kind for the sake of it ♡
- i'm a good listener! people say i have a lot of empathy and that i'm a very comforting person in general :>
- i can be perfectionistic and can pressure myself because of it >_<
- while i come off as a very nurturing person i yearn for someone who'd want to take care of me, a relationship where i don't have to be perfect to be loved ♡
hobbies & passions:
- i love art! i do illustration, design, and physical media like sewing ♡ i also love photography, especially picturing people's everyday lives and interactions with each other, almost like a slice-of-life film :>
- i love love making playlists, i literally have a playlist for any and every mood imaginable. i also love discovering new genres and doing deep dives hehe
- i love collecting trinkets! keychains, stickers, you name it. i think love is stored in the little things ♡
- i love cats and own one kitty ♡
music taste:
- i like listening to anything and everything honestly! i love k-rnb/indie, japanese indie, and ambient :3 my fav artists are yerin baek, crush, wave to earth, and i'm currently listening to lamp!
thank u so much and have a great day! ♡
Hi! Thank you for the request, @0310s
I would match you with…
Lee Jihoon!
The minute I read that you loved making playlists for people, I thought of Jihoon writing music just for you. The both of you have similar ways of expressing your love, which brings you both close together. I would like to think that both Jihoon and you being listeners would balance out because you can both learn to express and let it out with each other. I would also like to think that your writing letters to Jihoon would be his source of lyrics for the music he makes, so he can subtly show the world the love you have for him and how much he appreciates it. Both of you bring each other so much comfort through your love languages. 
The fact that you choose kindness every time makes Jihoon feel that you’re too good for this world. How can you not be angry or mean to people when they wrong you? He would find you so strong to always choose kindness.
Both of you are artists with different mediums. While he creates music in his music room, you would be sitting on the couch, sewing or designing things. Just your presence allows him to feel a sense of comfort. The fact that you think love is stored in the little things resonates deeply with him too, because he feels that love is stored in the music he writes. You make him things that store memories lasting a lifetime while he writes the music forever reminding/telling the world of the love between you two. 
Your wide variety of music tastes makes your shared playlist very lively. He loves watching you vibe to an upbeat song before immediately changing your mood when the next song, a sadder one, comes on. Then when a love song comes on, he would get up to dance with you. I’m inclined to believe that he sings to you as you’re falling asleep beside him. (I’m imagining his bed-head from that one GOSE ep now… he's way too cute)
I feel like your trope would be Black Cat (Jihoon) x Golden Cat (You). 
Thanks for requesting! Hope you liked it and sorry for taking so long!
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