#definitely not doing it every time but perhaps for more detailed/finished pieces

[krowlovesinazuma]

Alright I ask for headcanons yet again Except this time for once I'm not insane How would Chiori react to the reader preferring their own clothes over Teyvat's? (Judging from the overall complexity of Genshin Impact's outfits, I can deduce that our modern-day clothing probably feels a lot more comfy)

Read this prologue for context!

Scenario: Reaction to Reader's casual dress style

Characters: Chiori

For starters, Chiori is an incredibly forward person on purpose, no matter who she's dealing with, no matter how powerful or all mighty they might be, and even though you may be special in a different way, it's no difference to her.

When she sees your clothes for the first time, her mind takes a moment to properly process it. She hadn't actually imagined what you looked like before, but an otherworldly fashion style wasn't in her mind! She'll definitely rope you into checking out your outfit sooner than later.

With this check though, she's quick to realize that your outfit, made of a simple t-shirt and jacket, is made with comfortability and casual vibes in mind. Just to make sure, she'll ask plenty of questions! Mostly out of curiosity.

As soon as she confirms this theory, she'll get started on measuring you up, and making a new outfit of her own! She understands now that you prefer comfortability over style, but that doesn't mean she'll let you walk away without something of hers on.

She'll probably make a few prototype sets to understand what you find comfortable in clothes, as she was very much specialized in fancier, high status clothing making! It's a challenge she very much welcomes, no matter how much you may protest her attempts.

In the end though, she is primarily doing this for you, to help you feel more at home in this weird place. She knows the effects that clothing can have not only in onlookers, but one's sense of self, and she's here to help out with that.

Once you sound satisfied, and select which of her prototypes you liked best, she'll make a set only for you, making sure to stop progress on her other orders until this one is finished. It'll be a secret endeavor, as she knows the value in keeping your name hidden.

That'll be far from it, however. Don't be surprised if you get gifts from her every now and then with more sets of comfortable, yet fashionable clothing! Making sure to put in an Inazuman flare for you to fit in best, every piece was original and unique.

Whenever you feel the urge to thank her, she simply cuts it short and continues on. In fact, since this is her way of thanking you, she can't help but take it as something endearing, how you failed to see how much you've already done for her.

She hasn't forgotten the kindness and happiness that you showed her when you still controlled the game world from outside, and this is just her returning a due favor. You definitely notice the difference when interacting with the others, as they feel more at ease with your more familiar clothes. Perhaps she was right about your previous clothes being a problem...

"How would you say that set is compared to the last? Yes, these are important questions. This has been quite the enjoyable riddle, but I can only improve with feedback, and you're my only target audience. Don't worry about rushing it, just think deeply and answer me in detail, for the sake of a better set next time."

[gummybugg]

🎶Stuck in an ADHD Rut🎷🪲

Howdy! If this applies to you, let's see if we can get you out of there!

From what I have learned, the little ADHD brain creature craves happy chemicals. What usually gives us those? A sense of completion and satisfaction with our work! But those with ADHD lack a sufficient amount of baseline happy chemicals, which means it's harder for us to want to get things done! 

If the reward at the end of a task doesn't give your brain enough happy chemicals, you're more likely to procrastinate!

So what are we going to do to get unstuck? If unmedicated or without therapy, it can be very difficult to work around the ADHD rut! But I can share some things that have helped me in the past.

Of course, everything I mention will not help 100%, because everyone's brains are complex and this is anecdotal!

If you are able to, find a window of time that is easiest for you to work at! I typically do my best work in the evening or at night. This isn't always the best solution, as working around a schedule is not always easy.

Crank the stimulus up to 10 if you're feeling under-stimulated/bored! Louder music, brighter lights, drink something warm... Even stretching can get the blood pumping because now you got all the bone crunches out of your system! Are you there, Brain? It's me, Bug!

When I can remember, I create a Very Detailed to-do list. But I also know that people with ADHD are notoriously bad at keeping track of lists! I tell myself, "First, write a bullet list of ideas. Second, cherry-pick what you like. Third, write the thesis/main idea. Fourth, write ONE paragraph…" This works more so for writing essays or an entire draft! For some reason, breaking down every single step makes it slightly more manageable for me. 

I have heard of people who stop writing right before an interesting part and take a break! Perhaps the thrill of wanting to finish up that good part is what makes people want to jump back in. 

This goes against the previous points, but sometimes writing the most interesting pieces of my stories first (as opposed to writing linearly) helps more! The burst of energy I get when reading back on these pieces drives me to continue writing! I remember how excited I was when I wrote it all down, and it makes me think that past Me was definitely onto something!

To sum up, the ADHD brain is a fussy child who needs to be constantly reminded how to get things done. The more you get angry at it, the harder it is to cooperate with it! But, that is easier said than done. No one said that gentle parenting your brain was easy.

If you made it this far, then kudos to you because writing this was a miniature hurdle of its own! And If it seems scattered, I am well aware!

[ominous-auburn-orbs]

What if Caine gives Kinger a really cool bug and then Kinger gives him a little kiss

Of course! Tis a classic scenario with this ship.

Caine was listening to Kinger ramble about insects again. He was always amazed by the other's extensive and impressive knowledge. Although, he always felt a pang of sympathy every time he remembered that there were no insects in the circus. Nothing in the code detailed any creatures at all, save for NPCs and the players.

"-and that's how they all evolved to look like their environment!" Caine was drawn back into the conversation- mostly one-way, but he didn't mind- by Kinger finishing his infodump. He felt a bit guilty about losing focus, despite how much he loved the sound of Kinger's voice, especially when he was this happy.

"That's incredibly fascinating, Kinger! I'm impressed with how you're able to retain so much information about these insect collections." Of course, retaining and retelling information was the easiest thing for an AI like Caine. Everything was in his memory and remained there, never changing. Yet he knew how difficult it was for humans to do the same.

"Why, thank you, Caine. I don't remember a lot about anything anymore, to be honest. It would probably be a bit easier to get my details in order if there were any actual insect collections here, heh." Kinger tried to keep the disappointed tone out of his voice. He didn't want to make Caine feel guilty about it or anything, it's not like it was his fault. The circus just didn't have any use for insects. So there were none.

The ringmaster didn't want Kinger to be left wanting. He had to do something about it. The chess piece almost never outwardly complained about anything, which was a large contrast from the rest of the troop, but Caine knew he was unsatisfied. He might not be able to give him, or anyone for that matter, the one thing they truly wanted, but he could always try the next best thing.

"Wait here for a moment, my dear! I believe I can procure something that'll fix all of your worries." Caine clicked his fingers and teleported away to a vast area that stored the game's code. It was akin to the void, save he actually knew what was here. As he started looking for the right strings of binary and words, it hit him that his task may take a bit longer than anticipated.

He clicked his fingers again and appeared in front of Kinger once more. "Perhaps you should just go about your day instead, my dear. I'll fetch you when I'm done."

Kinger was rather confused about what Caine was talking about, but his warm smile assured him that it was nothing bad. "Alright, Caine. I'll just be in my room, if you want to get me." He affectionately petted the ringmaster's head before leaving. It left a pleasantly warm feeling in Caine's chest, serving as a reminder as to why he would go through this struggle for him. It's not like he wouldn't do something like this for any of his performers, but Kinger was always a special case.

Going back to the coding room, Caine set to work. He went primarily off of what Kinger had told him, although he did have to do some research for the finer details. Once he had finished the model, he began to code its mannerisms. He was rather thankful that he had realised earlier on how long it would take. Kinger probably would've stayed standing there for hours on end. The thought did bring a smile to his face, since he would definitely do the same.

Finally, the bug was finished. It was a brightly coloured caterpillar and was wrapped around Caine's hand. Its smiling face and clown-like shoes were probably inaccurate to what Kinger was used to, but it did fit the circus' environment better. He had even made a small enclosure for the bug, with everything it would need to survive and thrive. The hardest part was definitely giving it the correct life cycle. It would never die, obviously, but it would one day have to become a butterfly. Caine could already picture Kinger's excitement when it would emerge from its chrysalis. But he was getting far too ahead of himself. The first step was to deliver it.

Gently lowering the caterpillar into its enclosure, he tucked it under his arm and clicked his fingers, going back to the circus tent. He shifted the enclosure to be held behind his back and floated down the nearby corridor to Kinger's room.

When he reached the chess piece's door, Caine knocked a rhythmic tempo before returning his hand to its spot behind him. After about a minute of waiting, the door opened a crack. A large blue eye stared out at him. Caine was mesmorised by it for a moment before remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

"Kinger, my dear, I've brought you something! May I come in?" The door opened fully and Kinger gestured for him to enter.

"Oh, you really didn't have to. You know I don't need anything from you, except you yourself." His eyes did their best to show his loving smile, which Caine returned.

"But I wanted to make this for you." Holding the enclosure out in front of him, Caine heard Kinger let out a quiet gasp. "I know how much you love your insects, so I thought I'd make one for you. It's admittedly not a collection, but it can become one! If you want it to, that is."

Kinger crouched down to be eye level with the rectangular box. The colourful caterpillar crawled out from a pile of twigs and leaves, smiling at him. "Oh my God... thank you, Caine. It- it's beautiful."

The chess piece wiped at his eyes to remove the brewing tears. Caine had coded in an entire insect, which the circus wasn't even meant to have in the first place. No wonder he had been gone so long. Kinger was amazed at how much effort the ringmaster would put in just to make him happy.

"You're more than welcome, my love. It was my pleasure." He handed the enclosure to Kinger, who took it inside his fortress and sat it down on a table within, before re-emerging back in front of Caine.

Caine floated up to Kinger's level. The chess piece cupped Caine's face with his hand, staring into his eyes, unsure of how to word how grateful he was. Instead, he chose to pull the ringmaster closer, pressing their faces together for a short while before pulling away. He could hear prolonged glitching noises omitting from Caine while his face overheated, making him giggle.

"Come on, let's see what the caterpillar's doing." Caine let out a noise of agreement that was somewhere between a laugh and a panting exhale. The two went inside the fortress and sat on the floor in front of the table that held up the enclosure, watching the caterpillar wander its surroundings. Who knows how long they sat there, but neither cared. They were happy in each other's presence, and that was all they needed.

"So, do you want to name it something?" Caine's question surprised Kinger, making him yelp. Regaining his composure, the chess piece hummed in thought, inspecting the bug before him.

"Hmm... Jerome." He nodded after he said it, confirming that it sounded right to him.

"Jerome?" A hint of laughter found its way into Caine's voice. That hadn't been quite what he was expecting.

"What? Is it not a good name?"

"Oh no, it's a lovely name!" The ringmaster rested his head on Kinger's shoulder. "Its name shall be Jerome."

Kinger put his hand on Caine's shoulder and rubbed gently. Despite his lack of a mouth, his cheeks still felt phantom pain from his smiling.

[the-wip-project]

SloMo WriNo: Instantly Improve Your Writing With One Simple Trick

Want to make your writing instantly better?

Don’t we all?

Promising instant improvement is an easy way to hook eyes, (I’m sort of sorry for click-baiting you— but not too much.) so a lot of writing advice is framed that way.

But is it actually possible?

Generally the advice on those types of posts isn’t anything revolutionary. You’re told to eliminate adverbs/filter words/telling. Or perhaps the advice is additive. You should start using all 5 (or even 6?) senses in every description, do or don’t use certain tenses or povs, change up sentence lengths, use more paragraph breaks, and so it goes.

It’s (usually) all useful advice, especially when applied in moderation. (No one will come and shoot you for occasionally using suddenly or summarizing a scene instead of showing every detail.)

The issues is that a lot of writers (especially beginner writers) are seeking some sort of magic bullet. That one trick that will change everything and magically make you good. (never mind that ‘good’ is far more nebulous and subjective than anyone wants to admit.)

Sadly, once you get beyond learning things like punctuation and when to insert paragraph breaks, there’s not really any single technique that you can quickly apply and immediately lift the quality of your writing.

For the rest, it really takes time. Even if the advice is good, you need to learn when and how to apply it.

As such, there’s only one technique that will definitely make your writing better.

Practice.

Yeah. So boring. The least sexy piece of writing advice. Write more.

But it’s also the simplest. (Not always the easiest, but definitely the simplest!) Writing is not mystic or singular. It’s just like any other art or craft. The only way you get good is by spending time at it. And just like anything else, you’re going to be bad before you can start to get good.

You would never expect to become an accomplished guitarist by spending lots of time listening to and thinking about music, while almost never picking up your instrument to practice. And you will not become a good writer without practicing the action of writing.

It’s a comforting idea that gets bandied around at times, that writing isn’t just fingers on the keys or pen on paper. That it’s thinking and daydreaming and making mood boards etc. While those writing adjacent things are fun and undoubtedly can help you write, they are not writing. They are not practice.

Spending your time doing those things instead of writing do not make you a better writer, and obviously they don’t finish your novel or writing project.

Which is my goal here. To help you finish your project. As such I spend very little time on dispensing advice on plot or prose, and focus mostly on the process of writing.

That’s not to say that I don’t think you should spend time on learning how to write better prose, or how to create compelling characters and plot, those things are important! But if attempting to learn that stuff gets in the way of practice, then it’s counterproductive.

So don’t let the writing advice become the focus of your writing. Apply advice slowly, and don’t overwhelm yourself with trying to fix all your perceived faults at once. (I still have a difficult relationship with punctuation, but I’m learning. Slowly.) If you can, focus on techniques that interest you. Keep things low pressure— fun even?

Yes you want your work to be as good as possible, but also, you’re doing this writing thing because you enjoy it, right? So don’t allow the pressure to be good to stop you from having fun. If trying to apply a certain piece of writing advice is making you miserable, toss it aside. It’s either bad advice, or it’s not the right time for you to worry about it. Above all, avoid anything that kills your joy and makes writing a miserable chore.

So I guess this is my one piece of advice that will improve your writing (process) instantly.

Enjoy yourself, and ditch anything that ruins that joy. You’ll get better at your own pace, as long as you keep writing.

—Maree

Subscribe to my substack to make sure you don't miss a post, chat with me on the WIP Project discord, and tag any posts you make about the challenge with #slomowrino if you want me to see them!

[valleynix]

I've seen the game twice! the moment it was released but it didn't got me then (perhaps cause it was disappointing which could have cooled down my hype) but recently my brian decided that yo remember those three fly women? They're your new hypefixation good luck!

(Dani was so damn right when she said everyone falls for her in time)

So here I am🧍a bit late to the party

With how long the chapters are I'm making notes while reading if something in particular catches my attention, so I won't forget hah... It might be a bit messy but that's the comments I have for chapter 3&4!

^ I've never seen anyone mention the daughters' wounds/scars on their heads I like the little detail.

^ It really feels like we're time travelling/see the glitches as the two worlds/timelines collide.

Especially with the dying maid, scene with Alcina playing the piano and the magically disappearing food.

I want to know so badly how it looked like in your head while you were writing it. And all the missing puzzle pieces.

^ THE LITTLE BONDING TIME WITH BELA AS THEY READ TOGETHER *screaming begins again*

^ DANIELA SHE SHE–

My God I feel like the lvl of the happy chemicals in my brain goes up every time she's mentioned.

^ Cassandra certainly knows how to make a DRAMATIC entry (the breakfast in ch.4)

^ The Cass/Dani moment in the forest *cries* so soft

I love to see the daughters interact with each other and get an insight in their relationship as well

^ I absolutely adore how they might be bloodthirsty cannibals who torture people now and then but draw a line at SA and are respectful of the personal space and boundaries

see, i wasn't too hyped with the game when it first came out (mostly because i hadn't finished Biohazard at that point), but i got into it, like... a little over a year ago?? and it has been both hell and joyous since :') but i'm really glad you've joined the party!! i hope you've enjoyed it so far :D

god, yeah, the chapters range anywhere from, like, 15k-30k? it's a WILD mess out there, but i prefer that over short and pointless chapters, if that makes sense? it gives me a bigger project to work on, too >:)

(let me asterisk each point you've made to talk about it :D)

*i LOVE the detail of their scars and each sister having a different one (like Dani's being the messiest/biggest of the three and Bela's being the most hidden), and i do wonder why more people don't talk about it? it makes them seem more... them

*hehe, i am most interested to hear what you'll have to say on this subject if you continue reading on >:) i can't reveal too much since you're still early on, but i will say that it'll make sense soon enough (and as for wanting to know how that scene went in my head, i could definitely write it out better if y'all want, but i'd have to go back and reread that scene to be sure sdkjfhs)

*GOD I LOVE BELA SO MUCH, she's such a nerd

*DANIELA!! i adore her to little pieces and i definitely feel she gets mentioned a lot LMAOO, i am slightly (majorly) biased when it comes to her and what scenes she gets <33

*Cass is the queen of dramatics and no one can change my mind

*god, i wish more people wrote them as a family instead of fighting with each other over some measly, easily replaceable human. like, i believe it's Cass that makes it very clear Reader means nothing when it comes to her family, and i love that for her

*y'all don't even KNOW the HATRED i have for people who write them as SAers. like, you can be a murderer and NOT be a sexual predator! i know Alcina raised them right and taught them what it means when someone says no (cue her exasperatedly explaining the difference between torture no and spicy time no)

anyways, i'm very happy to know you're enjoying it so far, and i look forward to what else you'll notice on your journey >:) <333

[igniakino]

CRIT OF FINAL FILM

HEADLINE

After watching the finished film I feel like it is a good, story-driven project that the more simplistic set design lends itself to. Nothing distracts from the characters having their moments of development, instead subtly enhancing the setting and explaining the situation without either character explicitly explaining the situation. Mostly, I am pleased with how well these elements come together to tell a tight, cohesive story. 

The feedback I received from the crit was very positive, with Paul commenting on the costuming, mentioning how it effectively contrasted the characters, and the set, especially how compelling the dishevellment of the space was. I really like how the costumes exhibit the positions of power (or lack thereof) that each person has, a professional business suit and scruffy layers meant to protect. Saskia and I did a good job in making the room look messy and abandoned without having to damage any property, handling the limitations of the location well and sticking to the producer's guidelines. 

However, Paul did comment that the sheet in the background covering the window seemed out of place, and I do agree. I think a weakness of my work was that some of the elements didn’t invoke a reason for being there, or tie together with the rest of the set as well as I wanted. The sheet was supposed to both set up an in-universe reason of Robert not wanting to be seen as well as shaping the light, but this may not have come across to audience members, just like the radio could have come across as strange for a man on the run to want to take with him. I think if I had added more elements, perhaps newspaper on the glass, the reasoning for objects being where they were would come across better. I think at some points the production design is too simple and the room could do with being even more messy and filled with rubbish, then maybe the sheet wouldn't have been too out of place 

Overall, this film is strong and conveys a certain tone and atmosphere. The production design really backs up the story being told gives it life, although I think there could have been a lot more props to enhance the setting and give more reasoning to seemingly random choices.

ONE MORE DAY 

What I really loved about this project was being able to show off the personalities of each character in subtle ways around the bunker and trying to tell the story of their lives. I really think this is something that shines in the movie, and I am so proud of the production design as a whole and how much it elevates the film. I think the finished movie is great and sets a palpable tone and aesthetic that carries the story along, with the bunker feeling like its own character. 

In the crit, Paul brought up the attention to detail and how fitting the set dressing is in creating the atmosphere of the film. He also praised the work on the dog food cans which I am very happy about. I have definitely honed my skills of prop-making during the course of this project and will continue to sharpen them up in the future. Saskia and I worked really hard on every element of the decoration and thought about the meaning behind every piece, so to hear that the detail is appreciated is great. I really wanted viewers to get to know the characters and their struggles, and I especially like how we set up the existence and fate of Sarah’s character with the setting instead of words.  I also really like how the makeup I did on the actors looked in the screening as it adds to the impression of helplessness in the characters and helps the audience understand how long they must have been trapped. All the small elements and the props create a world that exists beyond the movie and I am really happy with that. 

I do wish he had gone a little more out there and really dirtied things up and transformed the space even more, as this would make it feel more authentic. Everything looks a little too clean and if we had more time I would go all out on the set and more efficiently establish a sense of time and atmosphere of loneliness in that bunker.

[igb220-rhiann-steenstrup]

Submission and Reflection

Now the assessment is submitted, I can take some time to reflect on my experiences this semester, for this subject, and my growth as a game designer.

Assessment 1

The blog was a useful, and even fun, exercise. It's an easy way to chronologically document my journey. I can see where I've improved, and where there is still room to grow (that never ends; there's always room to grow).

I believe the blog makes documenting my design process easier, because each piece of content is separated into individual posts. This breaks down the amount of content needed into small pieces; it's much easier to wrap my head around, and plan. The planning aspect is the most important here: one of my biggest weaknesses is my lack of time management.

E.g. Rather than writing posts throughout the week, I would scramble to write them at the end of the week, sometimes even catching up on another week.

I really liked the structure of content for this blog as well. Not every post is strictly about assessment and how I work in a team. Some allowed me to explore topics I'm interested in. It was a nice 'break' from the rest of the posts, while still being relevant to the work I'm doing.

I think some posts lack content or appropriate detail. Particularly posts in the latter half of the semester. If I encounter a similar assessment, I will probably block out a time per week to work on blog posts, to help me give that assessment the necessary attention.

This assessment has made me consider starting a blog on my portfolio to document my journey learning about the games industry and game design.

Assessment 2

This assessment was straightforward and allowed me to exercise my visual design skills. I really enjoyed assessment 2 because it was a mix of creativity and writing - two areas I enjoy and excel in.

Because I had never encountered either of these documents before, particularly the one page, I had to do some research. It gave me an insight into the industry, and how ideas are communicated.

Overall, I'm satisfied with my work for this assessment. I believe I understood the task, and how to communicate my ideas effectively.

Assessment 3

This was the most work intensive, and definitely the assessment where it felt like my weaknesses shone through more than my strengths.

Time management was the most significant. I gave more importance to assessments from other units since assessment 3 had a later due date, and my contribution to that assessment came later.

I wish I had delegated the documentation, perhaps having a team member take care of the playtest findings table, or writing a section or two in the report. I had many documents to handle, and although I was sure I would finish everything on time (which I did), the workload didn't feel equal for everyone.

I chose not to delegate because I had a writing background, and I wasn't confident in my skills to use GDevelop to implement our mechanics effectively. Also partly because my team members were more confident in using GDevelop to make the game.

I recognise now the first reason also had some hidden side effects. Because of my writing background, I set written sections of assessments to a higher standard. By completing them myself, I can ensure and control the quality. This mentality isn't fair to my team members, and puts unnecessary pressure on myself to produce high quality work every time.

Taking all this work on myself meant I didn't work on the programming side of the assessment at all, and only had a hand in the design, at the beginning. It's the only thing I truly regret about this assessment.

Overall

I learnt a lot about the games industry in this unit, and was given an insight as to what future assessments may look like. I particularly enjoyed the lectures in this unit, and how much detail they went into.

I also learnt several things about myself as a designer, both good and bad. It inspires me to try to improve every time.

[darth-does-stuff]

oh how i missed he

[edensrose]

Foxx. Fooooooxx. I have crawled out of my warm place to request a drabble or a oneshot, whatever works for you 👁

Could I maybe perhaps request a fluff drabble with Mizuki where the reader is trying to paint him? Just, stupid fluff where they're giggling like idiots because he won't stay still because he's Mizuki and has too much energy? 👁👁

Have a great day/night love and make sure to eat properly, drink water and take breaks. Make sure to prioritise your own wellbeing too. Also sleep. That's also important. Make sure to sleep too. Take care dude 💜✨

anything for you spoops bby! thanks so much, I hope you're taking care of yourself too 💞

ৎ୭ — summary : mizuki tries his utmost hardest to stay still whilst his s/o paints him, however, it proves to be more difficult than he thought

ৎ୭ — type : one-shot

ৎ୭ — genre : fluff

ৎ୭ — warnings : none

ৎ୭ — word count : 856

//tag list : @a-chaotic-dumbass @rurifangirl

“Mizuki!’’

“Hey! I didn’t even do anything this time!’’

You have to bite back a laugh as you spare a glance towards your grinning boyfriend who sits upon his futon. He knew exactly what he was doing - and yet he dared to give you those innocent eyes? The little snake.

“Uhuh, you’ve said that the last three times.’’ Unable to fight back the smile, you pick up your detailing brush to make a quick fix due to his sudden, uncalculated movement. “Well, I’ve meant it all three times!’’ Allowing himself to ease, Mizuki lets his shoulders relax once again. “Alright, alright. I won’t move again.’’ “Are you sure?” You peep at him from the canvas, shooting him a playful glare.

“Yes, yes I’m sure! Now paint me like one of your Tanuki girls!’’

That alone made you toss your head back in laughter before you could even stop yourself. “Quit it!’’ You manage after a fit of joy. “At this rate, I’ll never finish the piece if you keep being like that.’’ “Being like what? The love of your life?” “Mizuki.’’ A smile graces your lips as you give him another ‘warning’ look before you promptly return to your painting.

It appeared that the snake had settled down and distracted himself by staring off to the side of the wall. You’d admit, you knew from the get-go that this wouldn’t be a smooth-sailings session. After all, you had been with Mizuki long enough to know just how hyper he could be. In fact, it was one of the many things you loved about it. That didn’t mean that it made your job any easier, but at the same time - he was making this quite enjoyable.

Growing accustomed to the quiet once more, you instead allow your gaze to focus back onto the canvas - every so often glancing at your muse. You couldn’t help the small pink that had found its way across your cheeks - Mizuki was stunning, after all. However, it was only when you sat down and truly got to concentrate on him in such a way, were you able to appreciate his good looks. His gleeful eyes that shimmered like that of emeralds, his snow-white locks that perfectly framed his face and his pale skin, like that of porcelain. Every detail, every indent, every aspect - you tried to capture it all within this one painting.

If anything. . . This was an act of love.

You had become so lost in your world of thoughts and brush strokes that you were completely caught off guard when a sudden pop echoed throughout the room. With a few blinks, you theorise that perhaps you had just heard wrong. Pop.

Nope, you definitely heard right.

You pry your eyes away from the painting for the umpteenth time to face the shikigami who now began making the ‘popping’ noise with his lips. *Wow, he really couldn’t sit still - could he?* “Mizuki,’’ you call. “Huh?” At this point, it appeared as though he was subconsciously allowing himself to do such things. With a giggle, you shake your head. “Is it that hard for you to sit still?’’

“Hey! I’m trying you know,’’ playfully, he pouts. “Lucky you, you get to paint and have fun! I’m sitting here doing nothing ~” He whines, although you knew he was merely pulling your leg. If this was too much for him, he wouldn’t have agreed in the first place and would most likely have requested you stop by now. “Uhuh, well I guess I am having fun. I get to paint my beautiful boyfriend.’’

“Aww shucks, you’re going to make me go all red!’’ The snake exclaims in over-exaggeration as he brings his hand up to his cheek, only to quickly put it back in its original place before you notice. “Uhuh,’’ you coo. “Well, it is my job.’’ Once again, you allow yourself to get sucked into the world of colour and technique, you were determined to finish this piece today so that you could impress your loving boyfriend. Yet once again, you’re dragged out of your little artist zone once a newfound humming meets your ears. Now he was swaying.

“Mizuki!’’

“Whaaaaat?!”

You both release a laugh as you finally place the paintbrush down and rise from your chair. “You know, Mister. You are a very difficult muse.’’ Kneeling onto his futon, you place your hands on his shoulders. In an instant, his hands find your wrists in a gentle hold. “I’m trying my best. It’s difficult to sit still and just stare at you, you know.’’ He murmurs, leaning his head in and nuzzling against yours. “You’d make me all flustered if I were to do that.’’

Your cheeks burn with a blush before a giggle leaves your lips. “Oh Mizuki,’’ you sigh, leaning in to give him a small peck. “Never change.’’ All you receive is a small pout before he pulls you forward.

“No fair, I think I deserve waaaayyy more than just a little peck, as a reward for being your muse!’’ With a playful roll of your eyes, you lean in: granting his request and showering him with kisses.

[moonchildsaurora]

Time of Our Lives

✤ collab with my Moon Queen @hereisleo​ ✤ undercover agent!Woo x female undercover agent!reader   ✤ genre: Spy AU // action, chaotic fluff, inconvenient love confessions ✤ t/w: sfw, rated M, contains: swearing, mentions of guns & death ✤ count: 1.4k+

a/n - WELL DAMN. I’M BACK! It’s been a hot minute in this ghost town of a blog huh? After being stuck in the writers block for quite sometime, I’ve finally crawled out of that void. This piece was actually written...a year ago, something fun I wanted to try and roped my other half of Tea4Two into an impromptu blurb night. I started it and Leo finished it! Honestly, feels refreshing being able to write once more after months. Please enjoy & let us know your thoughts 💙

And it was in that moment, you knew, he fucked up.

All those weeks of planning went right out the window. The onslaught of bullets didn’t have to take you and your reputation out, when your partner was doing such a fine job of that. Two of Headquarters’ best agents messing up one of the most classified operation on the board – over a damn Alexandre Vauthier gown.  

You threw a side glare towards the man who was currently reloading his gun beside you. Head reeling from all that happened within the span of the few minutes that just passed.

This was a mess you definitely, did not see coming.  

“You look ridiculous in that!”

Were you personally offended by that comment?

Yes.

On the contrary, you felt like city royalty in lavish shiraz velvet. Unfortunately it proved to be too much for Jung Wooyoung to handle, if his erratic mood spoke otherwise over the days leading up to this assignment.

You been through the strategy so many times over you could recite every detail in your sleep. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into, and so did Agent Jung.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it. Not one bit.

Wooyoung thought you looked ridiculous alright, ridiculously gorgeous. So when he saw you enter the hotel’s lounge bar from his corner, the bourbon went straight down the wrong pipe.  

The slit of the gown was a sinful display of leg and don’t even get Wooyoung started on that equally sinful plunging neckline. All hope was on that single waist belt, holding the entire outfit together.

“You alright there?” asked the bartender, patting Wooyoung on his back as he coughed through the stinging liquor. He managed a thumbs up by the end.

If you had heard him coughing his lungs out as you walked past the bar, the poker face you wore proved to be impeccable. A low whistle was heard as just as you disappeared behind the conference room doors.

“Well, ain’t the Chairman lucky today?”

The bartender mistook Wooyoung’s unimpressed expression for a cue to further elaborate, “The Chairman loves women with class and sophistication.”

A vein popped, or perhaps it was his knuckles cracking.

“A sight for sore eyes is an added bonus.”

You weren’t there to provide favours of any kind. You were there to take down this nefarious narcissist of a scumbag who’s sat far too long at the top, bleeding hard-working corporations dry to fund his own personal gain and allowed corruption to run wild. So how very rude of these ignorant bystanders to insinuate such things about you.

His habitual reaction to bite back was interrupted by the soothing tone of your voice coming through his in-ear. You played the role of the pseudo informant extremely well, dropping light flirtatious remarks to lure the Chairman in lowering his guard down.

It was all acting, this was pre-planned – Wooyoung kept telling himself.

“I must say, I wasn’t expecting such a gem to be the one liaising on the other end of this deal. Come accompany me to the penthouse once this is over…I’ve some wine imported from Italy we could try and sheets to keep us warm my dear.”

Absolutely not.

“Fuck this.”

The glass slammed down on the counter top. “Excuse me sir? Where are you going?”

“Gonna get my lady, I’d suggest you clear out right now!”

To hell with this game play. The rest of the squad were already stationed outside, awaiting orders. Pistol cocked and loaded, Wooyoung did not hesitate to set the fire alarm off. It blared throughout the complex sending patrons and hotel staff alike into a frenzy.

Either way, the Chairman was going down. Preferably with a bullet or two to the head after what he tried to pull on you.

“HANDS OFF YOU FILTH!” roared Wooyoung, kicking the doors down and aiming at his target.

Wooyoung didn’t even register your exasperated shouting of his name before the Chairman gave the signal for the bodyguards to bring the rain.

You had tossed your new pair of silver heels aside, opting to dodge and roll in bare feet so as to not lose balance. How those were sadly broken already and your damned gown was still intact, baffled you.

“You better have a fucking good explanation for this! And you owe me a new pair!” you hissed at Wooyoung.

He took a quick shot around the corner of the couch and managed to pick off another bodyguard.

“Look, the guy is rotten to the core and I’m just speeding up the process where he’s done and dusted.”

Another shot, another body drop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you as many new pair of shoes as you want once this is all over. And on that note, would you let me take you out for coffee too?”

Your hard stare was met with Wooyoung’s toothy grin.  

The fucking audacity.

You gave credits where it was due but he was something else. Jung Wooyoung shouldn’t affect you this much and yet, he did. He didn’t flinch when you raised your gun towards him, there was implicit trust that you weren’t going to use him as target practice. The goon who tried to sneak aim at him fell to the floor, joining with the party of cooling bodies.

“You owe me a pair of heels…and coffee!” you bit out. Wooyoung let out a whoop of excitement which turned into a groan when you continued, “And you’re telling Boss what happened today.”

“Okay, hear me out, I didn’t mean it in a bad way when I said you looked ridiculous…” he said as both of you tucked your heads down when shots were fired near your hiding place. “You look ridiculously gorgeous and I can’t stand the thought of that sleazy bastard pawing you.”

It may have been the odd tug of your heart strings, or even the unwavering determination steeled into his eyes that did not shy from your gaze. For once instead of running from honesty, perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to give into it. Now that it confirmed Wooyoung was on the same page as you were.    

You never did claim you were good at planning either. And so, among the mess of bullets and broken glass, a single chaste kiss was shared. Too fleeting for your liking but sweet enough to placate two hearts, for now.

“Thank you,” and you meant it. Fingers fondly caressing the sides of his sculptured jawline.

Then the flick to his forehead brought him out of his love-drunk daze and back to reality.

Wrong time for a confession but with life as undercover agents, wrong time was also the right time. It still did not excuse the fact that you were pissed at him for cocking up the mission but –  

“We could be like Mr. and Mrs. Jung.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself!”

He chuckled and swooped down to steal another kiss. You could get used to this.

“Do you know you look hot when you’re angry?”

If you had your heels, you would have thrown it at his head. Alas, you didn’t have the chance to do so as the rest of the squad took care of the surviving Chairman’s strays and approached you and Wooyoung with the most exasperated face. Ah, you were going to get it on the ride back to the Headquarters. Even if it was Wooyoung’s fault.

Partners always got blamed together.

“See? It wasn’t too bad, gorgeous.”

You clenched your fists around Wooyoung’s suit lapel, he only raised his arms in surrender and grinned, eyes twinkling with mirth and was that fondness? You were annoyed, not angry at him anymore but simply annoyed.

“Wasn’t too bad? Wasn’t too bad for you, Jung Wooyoung but my reputation does take a hit. How do you plan on salvaging it?”

The grin widened and you immediately knew he had something up his sleeve. He grabbed your wrists and you let go of his jacket, he cleared his throat and straightened his black suit.

“Well, I do have an afternoon tea reservation for two at The Ritz and a bejewelled pair of silver heels waiting in the car. I owe you coffee and a new pair of heels, you said so yourself! And you owe me a date!”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. A man of his word, a fine man at that.

“Fine. However, don’t think this is enough to satisfy me.”

Wooyoung looped his arm around yours and leaned down to give you a swift peck to your lips, not minding the stares or silence that fell behind them. You smacked him lightly for the public display of affection yet followed his lead to the lift.

“Of course not, Mrs Jung. I intend to woo you!”

[pillage-and-lute]

Prompt: Either out of embarrassment or being a little shit, Jaskier lies outrageously to Geralt about humans (on the level of “I’m molting” or “These? They’re rocks, to snack on.”) and might get away with it?

Hi Dahliavandare! I always love seeing you in my inbox. I changed this just a *teeny* bit. WARNING: VERY SLIGHTLY HORNY (it’s Jaskier, duh) There is also a little bit of angst because Jaskier gets sick.

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“Jaskier,” Geralt growled.

“What?” The young bard yelped. “I wasn’t even singing that time.”

“No, you just--hmmm.”

“I just hmmm what?” Jaskier asked, pausing in his near-constant strumming.

“You smell like...hmm.”

“I smell?” Jaskier said, both hands planted on his hips. “That’s pretty rich coming from you, my friend--”

“Not friends.”

“You smell like a barn. Anyway-”

“No, Jaskier,” Geralt said, running one, gloved hand through his hair. “Witchers can sort of smell emotions, right?”

Jaskier looked up at him, a sudden hint of anxiety in his scent. “I thought that was a myth.”

“Not entirely.” Geralt shook his head as if clearing a thought from it. “We can’t smell complex things, but joy, fear, anger...desire.”

Jaskier, for once, didn��t look at Geralt, studying instead the flowers at the side of the road. “Desire?”

“I-yes.” Geralt said. “And I wanted to know if all humans smell like...”

“Desire?” Jaskier said, then began talking fast. “Oh yes, of course, most humans, especially my age, well, they smell like this all the time. All the time. Naturally.”

It sort of checked out, at least to Geralt’s thinking. Young humans were horny, and although the overriding scent when Geralt was around was fear, he remembered being a teenager, with all the baggage that entailed at Kaer Morhen, and yes, constantly horny was among those memories. Jaskier himself was definitely still young by human standards, perhaps twenty or so from his youthful features. 

Geralt chalked the horniness up to humanity and hormones and left it at that. 

--- 

Later on, Geralt had other questions related to humanity, more specifically that part of humanity that included Jaskier. 

“I thought humans couldn’t eat those?” Geralt couldn’t, he’d eaten one during training on a dare and spent the next day with his head in the privy.

Jaskier looked down at the mushroom in his hand. It was a beautiful, bright red, with little white spots. He’d been snacking on similar ones for the last mile or so. 

“Of course we can,” he said. “Humans eat these all the time.” There was a rising tone in his voice that indicated something, but as Geralt had mentioned before, witchers couldn’t actually smell the more complicated emotions. 

“They, um,” Jaskier said. “They just can’t be eaten by humans during-er- during summer. It’s fall now, so it’s okay.”

Geralt shrugged. What did he know of human biology? He wouldn’t be eating another of them ever, at any time. His stomach lurched a little just at the thought.

---

“You didn’t buy the ring.”

Jaskier looked up at Geralt, eyes bright in the sunshine. The bustle of the market around them pushed against him like a tide, but a little patch of space was left around Geralt. Jaskier stepped into the space. “The ring?”

“You liked it,” Geralt grunted. “I could tell.” It had been a little thing, cheaply made of poor materials, but the bard’s eyes had lit up upon seeing the little buttercup detailing, and he’d admired for several minutes, although without touching. 

Jaskier shrugged. “It was made of iron.”

“And?”

“Human’s can’t wear iron, Geralt.”

“Then why did the man sell it?” 

“Well some humans can wear it of course, those with very tough skin, but I’m delicate.” Jaskier sniffed. 

“Humans...can’t wear iron?” It didn’t sound right.

“Not right up close to their skin,” Jaskier said. “It turns us, um, purple.”

Geralt shrugged it off. He’d once been called to a castle where a baron had believed himself cursed because his finger was turning green, but he’d simply been wearing a cheap brass ring.

---

After the first winter they met again in the spring something was definitely different.

“Your freckles,” Geralt said.

“What about them?” Jaskier said, looking away.

What about them indeed. They glimmered like chips of mica. At first Geralt had thought it a trick of the light, but no, there was a definite glitter to Jaskier’s skin.

“They’re...shining?”

Jaskier cocked his head at Geralt, cheeks shimmering. “Geralt,” he said slowly. “You know humans shimmer in the spring...right?” 

Shimmer?

“I’d never noticed,” Geralt said. Admittedly he paid a little more attention to Jaskier than perhaps he ought, but still, one would think he’d have seen this before.

“It’s part of the growing process,” Jaskier said. 

---

“Jaskier, your cheeks are red,” Geralt said, stepping out of the small bathtub the inkeeper had brought up. He stepped closer to the bard, still naked and dripping water, and pressed the back of his hand to Jaskier’s forehead.

“Nnhgh,” Jaskier said.

“Are you well?” Geralt asked, cupping Jaskier’s flushed face with his other hand. It didn’t feel like he had a fever.

Jaskier pushed his hands away, face even redder than before.

“I’m perfectly fine, Geralt,” he said, higher pitched than usual. “Human faces get red for no reason now...put on some pants.”

---

“Jaskier you’re drunk,” Geralt said. It was a pretty obvious statement, considering he had his bard draped over him like a shawl.

“Hehe, yep,” Jaskier said, reaching up with one, long finger and tracing Geralt’s jawline with it. 

“You didn’t have any alcohol, I’m sure of it.” Jaskier normally had an extremely high alcohol tolerance in any case.

“‘O course not,” Jaskier said, leaning even more fully into Geralt’s hold. “Had milk.”

“Milk can’t get people drunk.”

“Milk can’t get witchers drunk,” Jaskier slurred. “Get’s humans drunk though, dunnit?”

“Can it?”

“Yeah, definitely, not the kids, but like, how often do you see, like adult humans drinkin’ milk?”

Not often, Geralt thought. He put Jaskier to bed in the inn and it was like pouring an octopus into a bucket. One loose yet gripping arm pulled Geralt closer to Jaskier, the bard leaned in and brushed soft lips to Geralt’s cheekbone.

Geralt wondered if it was another mystery of humans that the spot seemed to tingle all night and he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.

---

Geralt clutched Jaskier as the bard fell to his knees, groaning. His face was sickly in it’s palor and he was trembling. He’d just lurched up from the table at the inn and stumbled to the door. Geralt had followed him and the young bard had just collapsed like this.

“Jaskier,” he said, clutching a chilled cheek, his other hand seeking one of Jaskier’s. “Jaskier what’s wrong.”

“Lemon,” Jaskier whispered, lacing shaking finger’s with Geralt’s. “In the fish, there was lemon.”

“Lemon’s fine, isn’t it?” Geralt asked, slow heart racing as he looked into eyes that were becoming glassy and clouded.

Jaskier shook his head and it seemed to exhaust him.

“’S fine for humans.” He said. “Not fae.”

“Fae,” Geralt said, cradling his friend. “Jaskier you’re not making sense.” 

“Mmh,” Jaskier said, smiling sadly. His face changed, his eyes going glow bright and his ears lengthening a little. His skin took on a slightly green tint. 

Geralt looked into the face of his fae bard, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone and the shimmering freckles there. “How do I heal you, you have to tell me.”

Jaskier blinked slowly, eyes dimming further.

Geralt shook him, desperation taking over.

“Jaskier what heals a fairy?”

What heals a fairy? He’d learned that at some point hadn’t he? Long ago. They were rare, and most witchers never saw one in their whole lives but if you could help one they’d grant you one wish, not tricks. 

Poetry. 

Fuck.

“Jaskier,” Geralt rasped, throat feeling dry. Those beautiful eyes blinked at him, slowly. 

“I...I think you have pretty eyes,” Geralt said. “And I like when they, um, match the skies.”

Jaskier blinked at him in confusion, brow wrinkling slightly.

“You look pretty in blue,” Geralt managed, inventing wildly. “And look pretty in green. You look lovely in about every shade in between.”

Some of the deathly palor was fading from Jaskier’s face now and Geralt sought more words. “I thought you were pretty that day you wore purple,” he said. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, idiot he was an idiot, nothing rhymes with purple. 

“I like your spirit, your moxy, your...your yurple.”

Jaskier was indeed looking better now, and he was smiling.

“I like the way you talk to me, and how you’re always there,” Geralt whispered. “I like the way you hum to me when you help me brush my hair.”

Jaskier sat up slowly, blinking in the dim light.

“I like the way you give treats to Roach, um, and I like the way you smile,” Geralt gulped at the look on Jaskier’s face. “But most of all I like how much I love you, so I want you to promise to, uh, stay? For a while?”

“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier said, cupping his cheek. “That was bad.” Then he kissed him and Geralt’s brain went very very fuzzy.

A little later, in their room in the inn, where Geralt was finishing the fish and Jaskier was having stew avec no-lemon-at-all, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jaskier tilted his head thoughtfully as he chewed a piece of potato. “Well, at first I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” he said. 

Geralt nodded. Fae were a feared and reverred group amongst humans, so caution was reasonable.

“Then it became a sort of game,” Jaskier said shrugging. “I couldn’t resist. So I left you little hints. I thought you’d figure it out for sure with the freckles or the milk.”

Geralt huffed a little sheepishly.

“I don’t care that you’re fae,” he said after a moment.

“I know,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t care that you’re an awful poet.”

“It worked, didn’t it.”

“It did, and now you get a wish, no tricks,” Jaskier held up his hand as if taking an oath. “I promise.”

Geralt thought for a moment. A wish from a fae was no small thing. It should be something powerful, something earth shattering and precious and rare.

“I wish you would kiss me again.”

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Oop, here it is (after quite the wait, sorry about that) I’m actually so proud of this and it’s super sweet and fluffy.

[introvertguide]

Abuse of Children Portrayed in Film

I like to use movies as an escape from the harshness of the real world and one of the things that I have learned about in my education is the effects on children when they are mistreated. I have a Masters Degree in Developmental Psychology and one of the hardest classes for me to handle was Abnormal Development in Children and Adolescents. We covered everything from dealing with dyslexia and ADHD to surviving severe abuse and loss at a very early age. We had guest speakers that ranged from people who had escaped genocide as children, to individuals who had been sold into prostitution by their parents, to people who had suffered severe abuse from their parents or guardian. I have heard stories that will stick with me forever and that is nightmare fuel that I don't want to share.

Because of my background education, I take note of the treatment and behavior of children and adolescents in the movies that I watch. There have been many great movies over the years that have depicted the suffering of children and it has always been difficult for me to deal with. There are more well known examples of films that focus on suffering but throw in more of a "sometimes we all suffer, even the children" message that demonstrate that kids aren't immune to great travesties (basically any film about The Holocaust). There are also well known films that show children "coming of age" through hardship (Annie 1982, Oliver! 1968) but end perfectly. There is a more current series of films that focuses entirely on a boy discovering a fantasy world that was robbed from him when his parents were murdered by a tyrant (Harry Potter series). But in this list I want to review some lesser known films that show examples of abuse. Even after all that I have seen and heard, the following list of films have affected me personally for one reason or another. Sometimes the children in these films endure and overcome their situation in the end. Sometimes these children do not survive or sadly remain in their misfortunes. To me, this can make the movie all the more powerful because of the incredible amount of pathos that endangering a child character can add. It can also make it a heart wrenching experience that is painful to watch. Here are some powerful films in which children suffer and the struggle is one of the main plot lines of the movie:

SPOILER WARNING AND VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISORY!!! I AM GOING TO GIVE AWAY THE PLOT TO THESE FILMS AND IT SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING THAT SOME OF THE PLOTS ARE DISTURBING!!! EITHER WATCH THE FILM IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS OR CHECK OUT THE FOLLOWING SUMMARIES IF YOU WOULD RATHER JUST HEAR WHAT HAPPENS SO YOU KNOW IF YOU WANT TO WATCH OR NOT!!!

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Sybil (TV Movie) 1976

I just recently saw this film after I had heard of the story in my abnormal development class almost 10 years ago. It is the story of a woman who developed multiple personalities to deal with a childhood in the care of an undiagnosed schizophrenic mother. The movie stars Sally Fields and is based on a true account of Shirley Ardell Mason and her treatment by psychologist Cornelia Wilbur. The acting in the film is overdramatic at times, but it definitely reminded me of some of the actual old videos of Shirley Mason and her sudden strange switches in personality when she was scared or anxious. Dr. Wilbur used hypnosis to actually introduce Mason to her alternate personalities and she was able to recognize her disassociative identity disorder and overcome it. It still hurts me to think that this person was mentally wounded so deeply by her parents that it basically shattered her into pieces in an effort to make sense of things.

Leon: The Professional 1994

I mention this film a lot because it is a heartwarming story of an assassin teaching a young orphan how to murder. It is the breakout role for Natalie Portman and it is just amazing. Leon is a "cleaner" that lives next door to an abusive and addictive family with a troubled girl named Mathilda. The father gets in trouble with the mob and some enforcers come by and slaughter most of the family while Mathilda is getting groceries. She returns during the massacre and realizes what is happening so continues next door and pleads for shelter. Leon takes her in and teachers her the trade and protects her from the men who want to finish her off. The movie was written and directed by Luc Besson and stars Jean Reno, Gary Oldman, and Natalie Portman. The suffering that this girl endures because of her parent's addictions hurts me, yet I have seen and enjoyed this film many times. I recommend watching when in the mood to be deeply affected by the trials of a little girl and the killer who protected her.

Kids 1995

This film came out when I was early in high school and bothered me greatly. It is a story by Harmony Korine, and one of his many attempts to capture the hopeless lives of unmotivated and unsupervised teens. These are young teens having unprotected sex, stealing money to do drugs, and attacking people in the park. I did not really go to these kinds of parties when I was that age (or ever really) and it has bothered me to think that adolescents would partake in this kind of behavior. It is hard for me to believe that these kids had the ability to mentally comprehend the consequences of their actions and some of the characters end up contracting HIV from each other. I would not recommend the film because it is a depressing day in the life that no youth should have.

Gummo 1997

I would not call this a good movie and I wouldn't really recommend it. It is another work by Harmony Korine and really details the depravity that can occur with unsupervised youths living in low socio-economic conditions. This movie is just depressing and motivated me to find something to motivate me into action. I got into both psychology and teaching, which has served me well for the past 20 years. It was this film that showed me how low the bar for quality of life could be, and I guess for that I am thankful. However, I still wouldn't recommend it.

Happiness 1998

This movie I didn't see right away but noticed it at the video store on many occasions. I final watched it when I was about 25 on the recommendation of a friend and one particular storyline greatly disturbed me. It is basically the story of 3 sisters that feel they should be happy and project a face of happiness, yet they are miserable and have horrible lives. One sister in particular is married to a psychiatrist who turns out to be a pedophile that rapes the friends of his young son. At one point rather early on in the movie, this man confesses to his son that he raped the boy's friends and that he would do it again. The son is so confused that he asks his father why he never raped him. It is so disturbing to me because I know the boys that were assaulted will be forever damaged and this boy who was not actually raped will be mentally scarred as well. The fact that there are people in the world that would harm children that way, recognize what they had done, and then know they didn't have the self control to stop themselves from doing it again is horrifying to me.

Lilya 4-Ever 2002

This film is deeply disturbing and I highly recommend never watching it. I will spoil it for you now so you never have to see it if you don't want. A 16-year-old girl named Lilya lives with her mother. The mom gets a boyfriend and the couple move to America and abandons Lilya with a neglectful aunt. The aunt movies into the old apartment of her sister and Lilya is forced to move out and become a prostitute to make money. A boy comes along and convinces her to move to Sweden to escape her life. When they arrive, this boy sells her to a pimp and she becomes a teenage sex slave. She almost escapes, but is then captured and beaten almost to death. She escapes again and this time commits suicide so she won't be recaptured. This movie is awful and changed my mind about giving every film a chance. I wish I could forget this film, but I can't. Perhaps it is just not for me, but this film presentation is definitely an experience that you won't soon forget.

The Kite Runner 2007

I read this book in my twenties and saw the film in my thirties and both affected me greatly. A well-to-do boy and his friend are in a kite battle competition and the friend is beaten and raped when he goes to retrieve a fallen kite. The well-to-do boy denies knowing what happened to his friend (he does know) and basically shames and abandons him. This action haunts the well-to-do boy for the rest of his life. How the boy who was raped is basically falling prey to blaming the victim is heartbreaking, and the lifetime of guilt of the other boy is pitiable. Neither boy was the actual attacker yet they both were the ones that suffered.

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There are many other examples of movies along these lines and could be found if you feel like suffering. I can't say that I would recommend them because they are very difficult to watch. Beyond just dealing with the content, it is rare to find child actors who can actually portray somebody who has truly suffered. The mix of bad acting and a depressing plot can make for a terrible movie going experience. The genre of movie involving suffering does exist, though, and it could be enjoyed (?) by some. Just not generally by me.

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

Blindfold

Blindfold Yunho x f.reader Genre: Smut Words: 3.8k Warnings: Not really any warnings but we’re into blindfolding and major teasing here, folks. Birthday sex.

Authors Note: I hope that writing this will quench my thirst and make him stop haunting my dreams. Please suffer with me.

March 23rd. A day you’ve had marked with three red ‘x’’s on your phone calendar for a month. A day you have thought about since Valentine’s Day, after your wonderful, loving, perfect-to-you-in-every-way boyfriend told you about something he would like to try. The conversation had been innocent enough, although there was some irony in it’s exchange, during post-sex cuddles on your bed.

He was all giggles, with soft hands and warm skin, voice lower than usual and just as tender. You could feel the gentle tickle of his lips at your hairline as they moved to form words. Easy words that spelled out his curious desire, “Maybe someday we could try blindfolding.” Those six simple words, spoken with a tangible smile and blushing cheeks, had you pulling your head back from the comfort of his neck to watch his face. Yunho was grinning, somehow shy after all this time, and proud of himself nonetheless. You smiled right back at him with your lips pressed to his chin when he playfully lifted his lips too high for you to reach in your position cradled against his chest. “If you want to blindfold me I would let you. I trust you.” you assured him, but he let out a soft laugh. He swallowed audibly under your full attention, clearing his throat to speak even softer, “Not you…” You said nothing, needing a moment to understand, “I want you to blindfold me.” Realization hit you, and a gut punch of arousal along with it, “Oh.” With your palm against his chest, you forced yourself up at the same time Yunho let you push him onto his back. You wasted no time in straddling his lap. You leaned forward, stretching yourself to place your hands over his eyes with a giggle. “I didn’t mean we had to do it right now!” he laughed, grasping your hands and removing them from his face to kiss your palms. Placing your hands on his stomach, you rolled your hips over his growing length, “Perhaps not, but I still want you right now.” His hands were already gripping your thighs the moment you moved against him. With a bite to his smirking lips, he followed your motions with actions of his own, “As you wish.”

X

So here you were, after careful planning and orchestration. Without letting them know the details of your plan, you made sure to enlist Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s help, or at least tell them you were trying to make plans for the evening on Yunho’s birthday. You didn’t expect any promises, but Seonghwa did text you this morning to tell you they would try to get him out on time.

You fold and unfold the long piece of silk in your lap, running your fingers over the smooth fabric and appreciating the pink color you chose. It matches the rest of the lace babydoll and panties that cover you.

Part of you is slightly nervous, while the other reminisces about all the reasons you shouldn’t be. Yunho has never been one to make you feel anything less than comfortable or wanted in your relationship, and sex between you is not new.

Perhaps your nerves are born of performance? You must be feeling this way because he specifically wanted this and if you don’t make it great for him then it will be a failure. Yunho has said the same thing to you many times, when he feels nervous about performing for his fans.

Just as you shake your head with resolve to make this wonderful for him, the bedroom door opens and you jump.

There he is, stopped in his tracks, standing with his hand still wrapped around the doorknob as he stares at you sitting there at the end of your bed.

“You’re home.” is what you say, trying to rebound off your surprise. You must have been so lost in thought you didn’t notice the sound of his arrival through the apartment. You don’t miss the way his presence seems to add a fond sense of ‘home’ to the room.

He gulps, an easy smile raising his cheeks. His duffel bag is tossed to the floor in front of the dresser and he closes the door, unzipping his training jacket until that too, is tossed to the floor.

“What’s all this?” he asks, standing in front of you. He dips low to capture your lips in a greeting, waiting for your answer when he regains his full height.

You goad him with a grin, “Why don’t you hurry up and shower so you can find out?”

Yunho’s brows lift momentarily as he turns toward the hamper, smirking back at you as he begins to undress. He takes a peek at your face with every piece that comes off, eating up the way your eyes ogle him in silence.

He checks just once more before ducking into the bathroom, making sure you’re staying put there on the bed.

You refuse to let your thoughts consume you anymore, enjoying the pleasant buzz that sizzles on your skin, left in the wake of his staring. Although it’s new, you were certain he would love this piece on you, having mentioned the few times you’ve worn lingerie, that he loves you most in soft colors that compliment your cuteness. Babydolls are your personal favorite, and he has agreed prior that they’re best for ease of access when he wants to fuck you while keeping something on.

You’re both laughing when your eyes meet after his shower. The unspoken acknowledgment that he’s probably broken a record for his shower time is funny to both of you.

He doesn’t bother with anything more than a towel around his hips, and you pluck it from his grip as soon as he is within reach, “You won’t be needing that.”

He smiles at you, allowing you to tug him forward onto the bed. Yunho’s fingers busy themselves with touching and pinching the lace that delicately hides your skin from him. He lifts the hem in his fist, watching it nearly float back down around you with a sigh.

He definitely loves it.

“I love this on you,” he admits a moment later, his eyes seeking yours. The tone of his voice always melts you like this- when it’s full of love and ardor.

You gesture towards the headboard, allowing him a moment to get comfortable in your requested position before you straddle him. He hisses at the contact of your covered heat against his length, half hard since he came out of the shower from anticipation alone.

Yunho reaches up, collecting you by the nape of your neck and urging you down so he can kiss you. His lips move against yours exactly how you like, slow and building. He does this sometimes, when he wants you to be putty in his hands- not that you ever resist.

Except, today you have to take some control. Pushing past the bubbling nerves in your gut, you lean back. He chases you- leaning forward and consuming you, adamant that he isn’t finished sampling you.

It pulls a gentle moan from your throat when he moves his lips down to it. He holds you in place, caged against his body with his own arms clutching you to him. Your eyes pop open, remembering not to get pulled under the waves of euphoria with him just yet. Today is about his pleasure.

“Yunho,” you say, but it comes out as a whine.

“Yeah, baby?” he coos back, still working his mouth against your neck.

A deep breath leaves you, “Stop for a second.”

Immediately he sits back, with eyes full of concern. He searches your face for any sign of discomfort, and his expression morphs into confusion, followed by realization a moment later when he notices the length of silk in your hands.

You lift it up between you, bashful and smiling. You’re eager for his reaction, and your boyfriend doesn’t disappoint.

“Is it my birthday?” he wonders aloud.

You snort a laugh at him, taking a playful swat at his chest, “It is, you dork.”

He gives you a dazzling, heart-clenching, silly grin at your response, “Oh, yeah.”

“Now sit still, please.” you instruct, unable to hide your growing smile at his immediate and eager obedience.

He waits, eyes closed, but unable to help the way his length twitches against your core as you wrap the silk over his eyes.

“All good under there? Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?” you ask, not bothering to hold up any at all.

“No, but I can feel both your hands on me so nice try.” he says, and you can hear the shit-eating grin in his tone.

He earns himself a swipe of your tongue over his neck at his snarky remark, and the resulting sharp inhale you’re rewarded with is enough sweet justice for you.

He’s smiling when you pull away, tugging here and there to make sure it isn’t too tight nor too loose. He groans when you give him no warning and take his face into your hands, kissing him deeply.

You don’t stop your attention, kissing him until the sound of your lips feels deafening in the silence of the room. His hands grip your waist, gently rocking you back and forth along him in tandem.

It’s enough, you decide, when you break for air and he’s panting with flushed cheeks and heated skin. “Are you going to be okay, baby?”

He swallows thickly, then smiles, and you resist the urge to coo at the way his cheeks look rounder with the blindfold over his eyes. “Keep going.”

“Of course,” you comply in a sultry tone, “Just relax.”

He does as you’ve asked, allowing you to rise from his lap and push his legs apart further. He bites his lip with anticipation- feeling your weight dip the bed between his legs.

You enjoy the opportunity to tease, letting out huffs of your warm breath to ghost along his fully erect cock. He remains still and slack-jawed, awaiting your every movement. Unwilling to waste the moment, you admire him briefly- reclined on your bed, naked in all his glory. Yunho is gorgeous, but knowing he is just as beautiful beneath the surface makes your chest swell with great love.

The sight before you is something you aim to burn into memory for every sleepless, needy night that you miss him. His abs are taut, strained with anticipation and heavy breaths. His arms rest at his sides, feigning relaxation as his fingers dance with a stray thread on the blanket beneath him. His mouth is open just slightly and his brows are knit together in valiant concentration.

The part that pulls a low hum of appreciation from your throat is his full erection. Thick, red and leaking onto his abdomen, you’re spurred into action with the desire to see him a mess.

The first touch you deliver is a kiss, just on the edge of his hip. Slowly and deliberately, you firmly plant wet, open-mouthed kisses lower and closer to where he grows desperate for you. You’re paying attention to his reaction with every ministration and you must admit you are quickly becoming intoxicated with this game.

The power you feel, and how his every tiny reaction drives the spike of arousal deeper into your veins. He holds his breath, knowing the next place your lips will find is his cock if you keep going. With a tactical pause, you skip over it, smiling at his flushed cheeks, and let your lips flutter over the top of his thigh instead.

Yunho releases his held breath with a long and dour groan.

“Please don’t tease.” he whispers quietly, gasping when you suddenly rise up and lave the flat of your tongue around his left nipple. His hand jerks up with the desire to touch, but he resists. You didn’t ever tell him he couldn’t, but let him decide on his own what he wants to do. After all, this is about his pleasure.

The next moment you’ve swooped back down, gently taking the head of him into your mouth, and he reacts with a jerk of his hips and a loud moan. Garbled sounds of pleasure drop freely from his lips, his head thrown back as you take him as far back as you can.

The wet slurping is an erotic audio that pours heat into your own cheeks, and you can imagine that Yunho must feel like that sound is surrounding him with the subconscious focus of his ears.

“Oh, fuck baby… mmm, fuck.” he whines quietly when you use a hand to pump the base of his length that you can’t fit comfortably. He raises a hand again, and you watch as he bites his lip and resists the urge to tangle his fingers in your hair- instead balling a fist and settling it back at his side.

You continue like this for several minutes, switching your rhythm and pattern here and there to stroke or suck him the way you know he likes. When his breath is coming in ragged pants and his thighs begin the slightest tremble, you slow, and eventually release him.

Yunho’s protest is audible, and you cup his cheek at the adorable way his lips are pouted open and his brows are strung together with his plea.

“I want this to last.” you assure him, “It’ll be worth it.”

“Kiss me then,” he barters with you, breathless. His request is one you can comply with, planting a kiss directly to his lips and he tries so hard to kiss you into submission with his plush lips.

“That’s not fair,” you coo.

He smiles, shaking his head and leaning forward, “You’re not being fair.”

Leaning into him, you make sure to wrap your arms around his neck and whisper directly into his ear, “Don’t act like you didn’t want this.”

The resounding moan he tries to suppress is not lost on you, and he settled back with the clearing of his throat.

Straddling his thigh, you settle yourself in a comfortable position to kiss across his chest. Your mouth works higher until you’re biting gently at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He moans softly in reward, finally allowing himself the pleasure of your skin beneath his fingers, pacified with touching your thigh where it rests.

Your hand reaches down and you let your fingers wrap around his cock again at the same moment you gently suck on the place you’d just bitten. Your boyfriend is louder now, letting a throaty moan peel from his lips with your fist around his aching length.

He hisses when you repeat your marking a little higher, just below his ear. Yunho’s hand grips you tighter, letting it roam beneath the pretty lace, toward the fullness of your ass and digging his fingertips in to urge you into motion upon his leg.

“Fuck.” he whispers lowly on a breath as you set a rhythm with your fist once more. His head falls back against the headboard, his hips softly canting up with every pump.

As if he had intended it that way, his throat is now conveniently exposed for your lips and teeth. You want to make excellent use of his generosity, but the ache of emptiness in your cunt demands more attention.

Wordlessly, you sit up, shimmying yourself out of the matching panties and letting your knees settle on either side of his hips. Every rustle of fabric and movement you make is one that Yunho absorbs with great anticipation.

He doesn’t know exactly what you’re up to yet, but he can smell your perfume and your sex and feel your proximity over him. With wandering hands, he reaches out, tentatively, catching the left side of your waist first. All it takes is a simple swipe of his thumb and the comforting palm of his hand for him to realize exactly what part of your body he is holding, even through the lace.

That notion makes you softer for him, smiling sweetly at the dusty rose on his face as he reaches up to palm your breast. His free hand slides to your back, pulling you closer so he can attach his tongue to the nipple he’s found budding beneath the fabric of your lingerie.

The friction and heat makes you whine, admittedly turned on more than you thought possible with the addition of a simple piece of silk around Yunho’s head.

He spoils you with his hands now, roaming all over your curves, mostly followed by his mouth. He’s still short of breath, but smiles nonetheless when he locates at first your nose and then your lips with his own kisses. He doesn’t try any tricks this time.

His kiss pauses immediately when his hands, having wandered down and beneath the lacy fringe, find you bare. He groans at the feel of your skin, audibly basking in the pleasure it gives him to glide two fingers through your wetness with practiced ease.

Yunho dips one long digit into your heat, eating up the sound of your cry. Your hands hold him at his neck and his shoulder, leaning into his frame to stay steady. His face is less than an inch from your shoulder, and he takes advantage of the proximity to turn his head and capture the side of your neck with his mouth.

A second finger joins the first, gliding through your wetness and creating obscene squelching sounds with every thrust into your pussy. You’re beginning to lose yourself, completely indulged in the feeling of him absolutely everywhere.

He loves it just as much, groaning at the sounds you’re making just because of him.

“Does that feel good baby?” he suddenly asks, and the tone of his voice is absolutely sinful.

“Yes.” you whimper into his ear.

He grunts, “I’m gonna come if we keep playing like this.”

The admission is a tempting offer, but you don’t want to end the fun too early. Instead, you think it best to ask him, “What do you want me to do?”

He leans back again, reclining against the pillows, and you allow him to guide you now by feel. To do what he wants with you. “Why don’t you have a seat, baby?” he coos mischievously.

Teasing him further, you take advantage of the position and settle your core over his abs. He makes a sound in his throat akin to a growl and grabs your bottom with both hands and pulls you back into an upright position on your knees.

He kneads the malleable flesh for no longer than a second before he sits up straighter and tells you, “Sit on my cock.”

The dirty words leaving his mouth send sparks up your spine, and you do as you’re told. He’s already got one fist around the base of himself, aiding you in sliding down along the length he’s presented you with.

Watching his face contort with pleasure as you sink over him is by far one of your favorite parts of sex with your boyfriend. He’s so expressive, and the breathy moan that spills from his mouth when you’ve settled completely sends you halfway to heaven already.

Yunho is completely flushed, now. With the rosy tint creeping down his neck to his chest and the two small blooming violets you’ve given him, he adjusts to wrap one arm around your waist while the other is propped behind him on the bed so he can stay upright.

You set to work immediately, rolling your hips over him to a rhythm you can both enjoy. He’s panting again, stimulated to sensitivity from the restriction to his vision.

Mewling sounds leave your mouth, hanging open as you continuously spear yourself on his length. He gives a particularly hard thrust that sends you toppling forward onto his chest. As if he intended it that way, he naturally holds you against him and scoots down the bed- enough to plant his feet firmly so he can rock into you with more strength.

This position is your favorite and he knows it. The sound of your cries amplify with the angle of his cock into your depths, and the sounds are diving right into his ear. You’re rapidly approaching your orgasm in this position.

He grunts, baring his teeth as he thrusts into you roughly. “Fuck, Yuyu… oh my god, fuck, yes.” you breathe the words against him, and he delivers you a loud, rewarding groan.

“I can’t, oh fuck this is so good.” he praddles desperately, slowing to flip you onto your back.

He rips the silk away from his eyes, not bothering to toss it from his hand as his gaze finds your face. The mutually fucked out expressions you share spurs him on, working quickly to push your knee up to your shoulder as he drives his cock deeper into you.

The wildness in his eyes catches you off guard and he can feel your walls tightening around him. Yunho immediately places his thumb on your clit, sending you rapidly spiraling into euphoria. He wants to feel you come undone around him.

The added stimulation sends you over the edge and you seize up, crying out his name in a high-pitched moan.

He follows you on a ragged breath a moment later, unable to withstand the pleasure. He slows, thrusting steadily at a declining pace and strength until he’s spent, leaning over your frame with a blissful expression.

It takes several moments for you both you regain your breaths, and when Yunho finally slips from your core and rolls onto his side, you think he is simply stunning. You stay in your position for a few seconds longer, spying him as he throws his arm over his eyes and smiles.

“Mmm, baby, you’re amazing. That was...” he pauses to mull over choice words “Incredibly hot.” he breathes, slowly regaining a normal heart rate. You stir at his praise, finding enough strength in your jellied limbs to pull yourself against his chest.

“Did you like it?” you wonder, just to confirm what you already know.

He exhales a soundless laugh, lifting his arm just enough to grin at you, “That was some of the best sex we’ve ever had. Top three personal favorites.”

It’s a running joke between you to sometimes rank the best sex you’ve had together, and you giggle at his opinion, pleased with yourself.

“I put so much work into that, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He removes his arm finally, placing it around you instead. He squeezes you just enough that his lips can reach the crown of your hair. “Thank you.”

“Happy Birthday baby.” you finally say with a kiss to his lips.

It isn’t until four days later, the next time you see the rest of his group, that you’re made privy to the fact that he told them- in great detail- about the birthday gift he received from you when Wooyoung makes a joke about using the tie Yunho is wearing as a blindfold.

Your boyfriend fails to meet your sharp gaze when you look at him immediately after. It’s fine, you tell yourself. You’ll get your revenge.

“That’s alright,” you assure the group. “I’ll just have to use handcuffs on him next time, too.”

You keep a stone face until you catch Jongho’s head whip up at your statement, and the look of pure horror on his face sends you into a fit of laughter.

[keijislove]

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

[jamiewintons]

27 and 90 for Thomas maybe? ive been binging ur thomas fics all weekend as ive just started watching ghosts!! thank u for holding the fandom up 🙏🙏

(Hello, Anon!! I'm glad that you enjoy my fics, and that you're watching Ghosts! It's definitely become my favourite show of all time in the few months since I first watched it, and I cannot count how many times I have rewatched it! And you are very sweet, I try to do my bit for the Thomas simps fandom❤️)

27. brushing lips together, lingering for a moment, catching your breath & 90. your lover pulls you away from a kiss, asks you to marry them

You thought it was very strange when Pat came to find you, telling you that Thomas is in the library, hoping to see you urgently.

Usually, Thomas would always find you himself, as he was always enthusiastic to see you. Perhaps he was putting the finishing touches on yet another poem for you, and wanted to use every last second to perfect it? Regardless, you begin to make your way to the library as soon as Pat finishes speaking.

When you walk through the door, you see Thomas sitting by the window, his 'sighing place' as he often referred to it. He beams as soon as your eyes meet, wasting no time in rising from his seat and making his way over to you.

"I am glad to see you, my love," Thomas tells you, gently taking your hand in his. He brings it up to his lips to softly brush them against your knuckles. You smile, knowing you'd be blushing profusely if it were possible.

"Pat said you wanted to see me urgently," you say. "Is something the matter?"

"Can I not just wish to see you simply because I love you?" he asks, intertwining your fingers together. "Though I must admit, I have brought you here for a reason. I have a most pressing question that I must ask you."

The question must not be that pressing, as Thomas has the time to lean in and kiss you, his free hand cupping your face. He pulls away shortly after, and you find yourself slightly disappointed that the kiss was so brief.

"I apologise, my dear, I needed a moment to find my courage," he says, seeming a little flustered for a second, and then he's backed away from you slightly and dropped down onto one knee.

Before Thomas has even opened his mouth, you want to blurt out 'yes', but you knew that you should allow him to say his piece first. You weren't completely surprised that this was happening, to be honest, because the five weddings at Button House in the last few months meant that you both had marriage on your minds.

"Dearest Y/N, I have considered for the longest time what I would say to you in this moment. I have attempted to compose poems to ask you, but my love for you is so deep, that even I have trouble putting it into words." Thomas is kneeling there looking up at you, your hand still in his, with tears welling up in his beautiful eyes. You sniffle a bit, feeling your own tears beginning to form.

"It is my greatest regret that I could not get you a ring, and that I will not be able to give you the perfect wedding day you deserve... but if you can forgive me for those failings, I will spend the rest of eternity attempting to make you as happy as you have made me. My love, will you marry me?"

You were expecting the question, though you still gasp when you actually hear him say the words. Grinning so widely that you know your face will begin to hurt if you keep it up for too long, you nod eagerly. "Yes Thomas, of course I will."

In a flash Thomas is back on his feet, wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you close to him. You laugh, returning his embrace. You are sure you have never felt this happy ever before, even when you were alive.

You both go to kiss again, though you're both so breathless from joy that you can't really accomplish much more than a soft brush of your lips against his. But you know it doesn't matter, because you have all of the time in the world.

a hundred different details for kisses

[let-them-read-fics]

What Could've Been

Requested By Anon: "pls do a rosé or jennie imagine where the reader is into them but they just keep rejecting her. then they just cross the line one day and say hurtful things to y/n so the reader just ended up stopped pursuing them. then someone else (could be the other rosé or jennie also of yk what i mean) became interested in y/n and they get all petty and jealous yk djajdua,, COULD BE ANY ENDING HFHSHAU I'M JUST A REAL SUCKER FOR IMAGINES LIKE THIS TYSM"

Pairing: Love Triangle -- Jennie x Fem!Reader and Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 7,333

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Rejection, Crying, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: ⚠️ Important ⚠️ Class, gather round -- we have some things to discuss. I'm not angry, just... disappointed. *dramatic music*

First off, I want to address something with asks: as I've stated before, there's no certain amount of time that any one request will take me. Sometimes I'm more inspired by one than others, and sometimes I legitimately lack the time or brainpower to write a piece that holds true to my standards.

Please, refrain from messaging me multiple times about a request. Once is fine, especially if it's been awhile since you first asked, but I'm doing my best to give you starving fans the content you wish to see, and that takes time.

To those of you who continue to be patient with me: I sincerely appreciate it.

Secondly, I hope you enjoy this. ♡ Happy Reading ♡

PS ~ Anon, I still love you. Now enjoy this fic or you're grounded.

PPS ~ It gets better as it goes on

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Thank you," you politely say to your driver, handing him some money before stepping out of the sleek black car and onto the sidewalk. The bottoms of your shoes crunch lightly as they come in contact with the concrete, steadily announcing your course towards the performance hall. 

You let out a breath as you stand in the elevator, alone with your thoughts in the small space as it ascends. 

Your hands nervously palm the fresh bouquets of flowers you purchased on your way here -- the girls just finished a comeback stage, so you've decided to surprise them and show your love. You spent time picking out a personalized batch for each of them, making sure to mix their favorite colors and types, but you went even further for Rosé: you hand picked a larger, special array, choosing them based on their meaning and how much you think she'll appreciate them. Over the years, you've made sure to note her favorite ones; that came in handy tonight, and the florist assisting you definitely appreciated your attention to detail. 

Too chicken to go to her first, you decide to bring the other girls their gifts now and save Rosie for last. All of them are unwinding independently in their dressing rooms right now, enjoying some much needed alone time before coming back together later to celebrate. 

"Jisoo-yah!" You sing-song, rapping lightly on the door. It's slightly ajar, but you still knock out of respect for her privacy. 

In an instant, the door swings open to reveal a very happy unnie. "Y/N! I've missed you!" She nearly shouts, pulling you in for an eager hug. A surprised noise leaves her lips as her hands come in contact with the bundle behind your back, crinkling the plastic slightly in her excited state. 

"I got you a present," you say, smiling softly. Jisoo can feel the way your cheeks raise up, brushing against the skin of her neck as your head rests there, and her heart melts. After pulling out of the embrace, she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

"Well? Let me see!" You do as she asks with a chuckle, pulling her bunch out of the hold of the rubber band that's keeping them all together. "I got your favorite." You grin, sticking them out for her to see. Her eyes widen at the sight, and she's touched by the kind gesture. Flowers aren't particularly unique in terms of what companies and fans send them, but seeing the effort you put in makes it incredibly special. She couldn't be happier. 

"Y/N, you're the best." She presses a small kiss to your cheek as a thank you, and invites you in right after. Jisoo considers you to be one of the closest friends she has, so being apart hasn't been easy on her. You're the only person she's okay with venting and crying in front of, and she's been needing that lately. Sensing this, you pull a chair up to her vanity and let her fill you in on all the mayhem you missed out on during your time away, holding her hand for reassurance. When she gets a little frustrated, you rub her back gently, telling her to take her time. 

Jisoo is beyond thankful for you, and that becomes more and more apparent the closer you two get. Times like these hold a special place in her heart and remind her of why she loves you so much. You truly are a great friend to have, and there's no one she'd rather have in her corner. 

----

"Incoming! 3...2...1…" You call out, standing in front of Lisa's door, ready to knock it down and barge in. The greeting is an inside joke between the two of you, though neither of you know where its origins lie. 

"Yah! Hold on!" She shouts, nearly tripping and falling from how quick she rushes to the door. You laugh at the sounds of chaos coming from inside, wincing slightly when a thud rings out. Hair slightly disheveled, she opens the door with a huff. "This had better be good, because I almost died." 

Wordlessly, you reveal her present and smirk as the halfhearted scowl on her face disappears completely, giving way to a dopey grin. "You remembered?" She asks quietly, running her fingers over the petals of her all-time favorite flower. The fact that she sounds so shocked makes you sad -- not many people take enough time to notice the little things. They'd rather focus on profiting off of the girls' talents than actually caring enough to get to know them. 

"Of course I did, Lisa. You're one of my best friends; how could I forget?" The maknae pulls you in for a meaningful hug, allowing the gesture to tell you all the things she doesn't know how to express. She's not always the best with her words, but she makes up for it with her actions. 

"I really love you, dork. You know that?" She asks as she pulls away, ruffling your hair lightly. She cracks that smile that seems to make the world stop, and you just shake your head. 

"You'd better. Your flowers were the most expensive!" You tease, dodging her when she reaches out to grab you for that one. 

"Get back here!" She shouts, chasing you down the hall like a 5 year old, planning to get her revenge. 

---

"Jendeukie, open up!" You squeal, pounding on her door while throwing a look over your shoulder. Lisa is dangerously close, ready to tackle you as she continues charging down the hall. 

"Y/N?!" She exclaims from the other side of the door, clearly not expecting you to be here. 

"Hurry!" You can hear footsteps eagerly rushing towards the door, and just as she opens it, disaster strikes. 

Lisa's arms wrap around your waist, pushing you forward and right into Jennie. The three of you fall into her dressing room in a messy heap, limbs splayed in various positions as you yell together on the way down. You manage to keep the flowers out of harm's way, thankfully, and your arm remains stuck out just in case Lisa tries anything else. 

"Hello to you, too, Y/N." Jennie groans with a chuckle, the words coming out a little strained from all the weight on her. Lisa stands first, pulling you up right after, and you turn to help your best friend up as well. 

"I sure know how to make an entrance, huh?" Your lopsided grin makes Jennie weak in the knees, much like it has ever since she met you all those years ago, and she has to fight to contain the blush that rises to her cheeks. After bantering with Lisa for a few more moments you eventually push her out of the room, shoo-ing her back to her own in order to give yourself some one-on-one time with Jennie. 

You stick your tongue out at the maknae one final time before shutting the door and turning around, finding a very soft looking Jennie peering back at you. Her cheeks are pulled back in her signature gummy smile, and the fluffy sleeves of her Chanel sweater engulf her small hands as she cradles her face in them. 

Perhaps, if circumstances were different, you'd be hopelessly pining for this 5'4" angel instead of Rosé. Love knows no logic, though, and you're stuck chasing after a certain Australian beauty that never seems capable of giving you the time of day.

"I missed you," she pouts, pursing her lips adorably as she steps forward to wrap her arms around your shoulders. You pull her in and pick her up with a spin, smiling into her neck when she giggles in your ear. 

"Well, I'm here now. And luckily for you…." you start, allowing for some anticipation to build, "I come bearing gifts. Well, a gift. Singular." Jennie chuckles at your rambling -- it's one of the traits she finds most endearing about you, and she always hates it when people cut you down for it. It's adorable in every way. 

"Oh?" She asks, intrigued as she raises an eyebrow -- she's keeping the act up for you, of course, too fond of the cute smile on your face to tell you that she already knows what it is. You hand over the flowers with a little jig, too excited by how happy she looks to contain yourself. 

"They're beautiful, Y/N." She stops herself from adding a, "just like you," to the end of the phrase, wishing she was able to say things like that. You deserve to be reminded of how special you are everyday, and she knows her bandmate fails to do so. 

"So, what've you been up to?" You amble over to the couch that's tucked away in the corner of her dressing room, plopping down onto the cushions with a small bounce. Rosé's flowers lay beside you, and Jennie eyes them. 

"Same old, same old," she says, finally looking back at you with a tiny grin. "Practice for the comeback has kept us really busy lately, and somebody hasn't been there to tell us jokes at 3AM and keep us going." She playfully rolls her eyes, pretending to be annoyed. 

"My most sincere apologies," you hold a hand over your heart in mock regret, bowing your head with closed eyes. "On the bright side, though, I'm back in town for next month or two. I finished the business deals we had to handle abroad, so now I'm all yours." 

She knows you didn't mean hers, but that doesn't stop her from pretending. 

A happy noise of approval slips past her lips, and she claps excitedly. The sight reminds you of some of the childhood videos she's shown you, the two looking eerily similar to one another. No matter what may happen in her life, Jennie will most certainly remain that innocent young girl at heart, getting scared by everything that moves and loving with her all. She's an amazing person to know, and part of you feels sorry for everyone who'll never get the privilege of knowing her personally -- after all, everyone deserves a Jennie Kim in their lives. 

"Are you celebrating with us later?" She asks from in front of her mirror, now brushing her hair to busy herself. She runs the risk of making her feelings too obvious if she doesn't keep herself occupied. 

"I was planning to, yes. But that might depend on Rosé." You inform with a nervous chuckle, an anxious smile playing on your lips. When you look up and find her brows furrowed, you elaborate. 

"I'm gonna try to ask her out today when I bring her these flowers." You lightly chew your bottom lip out of habit, rubbing your hands together. The mere thought of such a task is daunting, especially with your not-so-perfect track record when it comes to her. You still try to cling to what little hope you have squirreled away in your heart, wishing with all your power that your sweet present will convince Rosé to at least give you a chance. 

Distracted by your thoughts, you don't notice the way that Jennie's face falls. Her heart is breaking in silence, splintering into pieces far too small to put back together. She knew this day would come eventually, given that you're a determined person and head over heels for Rosé, but that doesn't mean she was prepared to find out like this. The lovesick glimmer in your eye hurts Jennie even more, knowing that you're probably imagining what it would be like for her to say yes to you. This whole time, Rosé has been stringing you along -- giving you just enough hope to keep coming back to her, using your devoted acts of kindness selfishly -- and Jennie would do anything to make you see that. You don't deserve what she puts you through. 

"...Earth to Jennie!"

The brunette snaps back to reality and clears her throat, attempting to gather her thoughts again. 

"Sorry, just got lost there for a second." She says, looking back into your eyes after a moment. A curious look plays in them, and she can practically see you debating on whether or not to question her further. She lets out a quiet sigh of relief when you accept her answer, choosing instead to smile at her. 

"It's alright. But what's not alright, is that I've been sitting here for 5 minutes and you haven't come over to cuddle me. I mean seriously, a girl's gone for forever and her best friend doesn't bombard her with love?" You shake your head with an amused smile, throwing your hands in the air. 

Oh, the things she would do to change that title. 

Successfully suppressing the pang of longing that runs through her, Jennie quips back, "A month and a half is hardly forever, Y/N." 

"It felt like it, though. I missed seeing you." 

She finds you pouting, your arms folded across your chest like a toddler, and her heart melts. Any amount of time without you is too long for Jennie's liking, and she's happy to know you missed her as well. 

"Fine, I guess I can spare some cuddles." She pretends to be put out as she approaches you, really playing the part by huffing and looking uninterested. Inside, though, she's celebrating. She can't wait to hold you close again, even if it may lead to her hurting herself with the what-ifs and scenarios that play in her mind. 

"Yay!" You shout, pulling her into your lap before laying your head on her shoulder. Her heart beats rapidly at the proximity, and she prays to every higher power in existence that you don't notice it. 

She relaxes after a moment, releasing the tension from her muscles as she sinks into your embrace. It's warm and comforting, and she never wants you to let go. Her head rests on top of yours, and she's content just running her hands through your hair, feeling your calm breaths against her skin. 

She's so in love it hurts. 

-----

This'll convince her, you whisper to yourself, attempting to sound confident -- key word: attempting. If there's one thing you know about Rosé, it's that she loves to be difficult with you. You caught feelings for her years ago when you were first introduced to each other at a company event, and ever since then you've done nice things for her nonstop, hoping that she'd fall for you with time. The longer you wait, though, the more discouraged you get. Regardless, those times that she appreciates your efforts make up for all the rest, and you'd gladly take 100 instances of the "bad" in order to have even just one of the "good". 

After taking a deep breath, you knock on the door a couple times.

A sigh can be heard, sounding like a complete 180 from the reactions of the other girls. The subsequent footsteps are heavy -- like she's dragging her feet, not even wanting to get up in the first place -- and they work to dishearten you a bit. Nevertheless, you imagine how happy she'll be when she sees the surprise, and a small smile makes its ways onto your lips. All you want to do is brighten her day, if only for a moment. 

An indifferent expression rests on her face when she first opens the door, likely expecting someone else to be standing in your place. Not much changes when she realizes it's you, though a sliver of a smile does quirk up at the corner of her lips. 

"Hiya Rosie," you greet sweetly, unable to contain how wide your smile grows at seeing her again. She makes you feel like a giddy school girl, and you can't decide if you love it or hate it. 

"What's up?" She asks, more out of common courtesy than anything else. Her body leans against the doorframe, her left arm resting behind the door. She didn't throw it open or invite you in like the other girls, so that tells you that she probably doesn't want visitors. 

When you take too long to answer, she asks dryly, "Are you just gonna stare at me?" Her voice is laced with a slight undertone of annoyance -- one that makes you shrink down a bit. You can practically hear how exhausted she is, and part of you feels bad for disturbing her with your presence. 

"N-no, sorry." You curse yourself for looking like a fool. "I got you something that I think you'll enjoy." Her eyebrows raise slightly and you can tell she's intrigued, even if she may try to deny it. 

"Here." You declare, nervously fixing the plastic as you hold the bundle in front of you. You want it to look perfect for her. 

"I, uh, hand picked it." 

"Thank you, it's lovely." She says politely, taking them from you and bringing them up to her nose. She admires the gentle, pleasant scent of them, and smiles appreciatively at you.

You blush under her gaze, slightly tripping over your words as you respond, "Of course, I'm glad you like it." 

Now, the part you dread: when the conversation dwindles down, threatening to end entirely unless you step up to keep it going. 

"Well, how've you been?" You cringe at the overused question, but you're willing to employ it in order to hear her sweet voice for a little longer. 

"Look, Y/N, I really appreciate the gift and all, and I'm really happy to see you again, but I don't feel like talking right now. I just want to enjoy myself for a little bit." Her denial makes you scrunch your face up, embarrassed beyond belief as her words sink in. You should've known that flowers wouldn't suffice. Perhaps that last line stung the most -- you try not to read too far into it, but the idea that she doesn't enjoy herself when talking to you nags at your heart. 

"Yeah, yeah. For sure." You scratch the back of your neck, awkwardly taking a step away from her door and back into the hallway. 

"I'll see you at the get together later though, right?" You ask, kicking yourself when you realize how hopeful you sounded. You have to get better at hiding it. 

"Sure," she nods, sending you a smile and little wave before saying goodbye and shutting the door. 

Well, that was a bust. Damn. Back to the drawing board, it is -- though your ego will need a few hours to recover. 

---

"Lisa, I swear to god, if you come near me with that I'll punt you across this room." 

Your very serious, totally-not-exaggerated warning evidently worked against you, because the maknae soon raises her head to look at you, grinning like a maniac. Frosting from the cake she just messily cut into covers her hands, looking threatening as she wiggles them at you. 

"I mean in!" You shout as a last resort, slowly backing away. You accidently bump into Jennie in the process, but you fail to realize that it was part of the plan all along: she and Lisa are in cahoots. When the maknae lunges, swiftly striding across the room towards you, you attempt to move out of her path and get somewhere safer. Steady hands on your waist keep you anchored in place, though, and you try to fight them. 

"Jennie?! Let me go, she's right there!" You squeal, trying to pry her fingers off of your hips one by one. She merely laughs, whispering a sorry into your ear right before Lisa's hands run across your cheeks and neck. You squirm, leaning further back against Jennie to evade the younger girl as she does her worst. 

Now, practically having a face mask of frosting, you step away from the girls and glare at them. 

"Bullies, I tell you." You say to Jisoo, groaning when she busts out laughing. It doesn't take a genius to know that you look a mess, and you'd probably laugh at yourself if the roles were reversed. The others soon join in, and a chorus of belly laughs fill the air around you. 

"Go ahead, laugh it up," you tell the girls, nodding your head, "Just wait til I get my revenge. I'm coming for you, Manoban." You point a finger at her as you exit the room, grinning when you hear the oooo's that they let out at your threat, and you make your way to the bathroom at the end of the long hallway before you.

On your way back, you hear Rosé's voice filtering in from one of the lounge rooms that branch off of the main corridor. Intrigued, you stop walking and listen in. 

Big mistake. 

Your ears perk up when you hear your name roll off her tongue, though her subsequent sentences crush your spirits. 

"...I know, right? She's honestly so annoying. Like earlier, I was finally getting cozy after our performance and then she just showed up."

Too shocked to leave now, you stay where you are and try not to let her words hurt you too much. She listens to the person on the other end of the line, laughing at something they said. That sound -- one you’ve grown to love more than anything else in the world -- is turning into something you hate. It feels like she's laughing at you; which, in hindsight, she probably is. 

"Exactly! She had flowers for me, as if I don't get those almost everyday already, and I guess she really thought that that would win me over. It was sweet but, c'mon, you know?"

Every insecurity you have is nagging at you, and you can't stop the few tears that roll down your cheeks at her brutal honesty. She's really hurting your feelings, and you can't help but want to call her out for it. So, you do just that: you step into the open room, one that lacks an actual door, and say, "Next time you wanna talk shit about someone, maybe you should make sure they're not around to hear it." 

Her smile falters slightly, and she spins around to face you. A hint of guilt plays on her features, but you're sure it's only because she got caught -- she definitely meant everything she said. 

"Y/N--"

You don't stick around to listen to what she has to say. Her change of behavior surprised you, and you can't trust that she's even sorry for it. 

Your pace quickens as you hear her voice become clearer -- she's in the doorway now, calling after you, but you don't even turn around. The salt of your tears greets your tongue, and you're once again reminded to wipe your face as you rush down the hall, rounding a couple corners and darting past countless doors on your way. You just want to get out of this place and be alone. 

A new voice slows your strides as it greets your ears, feeling like a security blanket in its gentleness. It's Jennie. "Y/N? Why are you crying?" She came to look for you when you took too long to return from the bathroom. 

You're far too embarrassed to look at her, so you simply sniffle and raise a hand up in her direction. "Don't worry about me, Jen. It's not important." 

"Hey, yes it is. You're upset and that matters." She steps towards you, saying the words that you had no idea you needed to hear so badly. Your heart aches, still shocked by the fact that Rosé would say such things about you. You thought you were friends, if nothing else, and yet that's never felt further from the truth than it does right now. 

When you don't move away, Jennie takes that as a sign to bring you into her arms, cradling your head against her chest. The kind act hurts your heart more for some reason, and you want to pull away. Jennie senses this and decides to rub soothing circles on your back, her warm embrace comforting you as she says, "I don't know what happened, Y/N, but I'm right here. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, either, but please don't leave like this. I hate to see you upset." 

Something about the way she's holding you, so close and tenderly, is comforting beyond belief and you can't find the desire to leave anymore. 

"Can we at least go to your dressing room? I don't want everyone to see me like this."

"Of course, sweetheart. Come on." 

Sweet phrases of reassurance are whispered to you as she leads you away, keeping you safe from prying eyes the entire time. Jisoo appears in the doorway of the party room, raising a concerned brow when she sees the two of you approaching. Jennie shakes her head at the unnie before she can utter a word, giving her a silent answer as she uses her eyes to communicate what's happening. Jisoo eventually understands, and she offers a sympathetic nod when you pass by.  

-------

7 Months Later

"Hey Jennie, do you think you can go answer the door? I'd do it myself, but…" Jisoo trails off, glancing down at the bowl of partially mixed dough that sits in front of her on the counter. Her hands continue to knead the mixture as she looks up at the younger girl, subtly sighing in relief when she agrees. 

There's more than one reason behind having Jennie be the one to answer it. 

The brunette grabs a pen as she pads her way over to the door, ready to sign for a delivery package -- that's usually the only thing they get at the dorm, considering guests are discouraged for the most part. Screw YG and their rules. 

Being a bit clumsy, Jennie accidently knocks her phone out of her own hand as she opens the door, muttering out a quiet “shit” as she bends down to retrieve it. Her eyes trail over to the stylish boots that set just a few feet away, and her breath hitches. 

"Hi baby." You greet with that healing smile that she's missed so much, peering down at her with a look in your eye that makes her heart trip and stumble over itself. 

"Y/N!" She shrieks, jumping up from the ground and right into your arms. 

"Uumph--" you let out in surprise, making sure to catch her and prevent her from falling. Ever since you two began dating a few months ago, leaving has become harder and harder. Jennie is beyond thrilled to have you back again, and she tries not to think about the next business trip you'll have to take. It's a methodical rhythm -- a month or two abroad and the same amount back home, then you're left to repeat the cycle over and over. Both of you hate it, and you'd much rather spend all your time with her instead. After all, ever since the incident with Rosé all that time ago, Jennie has steadily worked her way into your heart and become someone you can't live without. You were close before, but you've reached a new level now -- and that's about the only thing you can thank Rosé for. By hurting you and showing you how little she cared, she effectively pushed you right into Jennie's waiting arms.

"I'm so happy you're home." She says with a sigh, truly grateful to have you in her arms again. You wrap your arms tighter around her waist and sway a little bit, both of you content with just holding each other for a while longer. The weather outside is dazzlingly perfect; signs of summer apparent in everything around you. Birds chirp their looping songs as they fly through the air, feeling the sun's gentle heat on their wings all the while. 

You move your head enough to be level with hers, bringing her in for a long-overdue kiss. She smiles into it, cupping your cheek with one of her hands as she languidly moves to deepen it. 

Rosé should've stayed in her room. She should've ignored her stomach's incessant grumbling for a snack; but she didn't. 

She gave in, and now she's stuck, rooted in place as she watches Jennie kiss you, the one that got away. It's like watching a train wreck: she can't look away, and part of her psyche knows she deserves this. The apple in her hands is the only thing working to distract her, and she grips it tightly within her clutch to comfort herself. You look good -- so good -- and Rosé doesn't know whether to be happy or not. She knows she didn't treat you right -- then or ever -- but for some selfish reason that she doesn't dare give voice to, she wants you to still be hurting. She wants you to be suffering like she is now, crying into your pillowcase at night when she crosses your mind. She wants you to miss the good times, though there may not have been enough of them, and she wants you to want her again. 

You've turned the tables on her, and she doesn't know how to cope. 

She realized what she had once it was gone -- once you were gone, too busy falling in love with Jennie to pay her any mind anymore. She misses how devoted you were to her and how much care you put into everything you did; she misses the consistency that you offered; she misses every sweet thing you ever did for her. Hell, she even misses hearing you ramble and seeing you blush when all she did was smile at you. 

But you're gone now, destined to be with her member when all she wants is another chance. She'll never get it, certainly not after everything she's put you through, and she resents herself for treating you so badly. All you ever did was care, and she was too self-centered to give a crap. 

She deserves this. She deserves to see you happy with Jennie, happy in a way she could never make you. For you, she deserves to hurt; to silently cry in her room when she hears the two of you on call, laughing about whatever new thing you experienced that day. Because it wasn't just the one instance of pain she inflicted on you; it wasn't just that one night at the performance hall -- it was a steady build up of rejection and half-assed excuses, and even she can't blame you for getting tired of it. She wishes she hadn't been so stupid to deny you. 

What's worse is that she's actually fallen for you now; she imagines what could've been, what would've been, had she given you an honest chance. She's never tried to deny how gorgeous you are -- that's a given -- but now you're bruisingly beautiful, shining with the happiness that Jennie's worked hard to instill in you again. Shining with the love you hold for that 5'4" angel. 

Maybe, if circumstances were different, you'd be in Rosé's arms right now. Perhaps in another life. 

---

"Do you want to come in? Jisoo's working on some dessert for the lunch we just made. We can heat you up a plate in the meantime…" Jennie trails off, hoping to persuade you. She knows it's risky, considering the tension that feels almost tangible anytime the three of you are together, but she doesn't want to let you go so soon. 

"I don't know…" The uncertainty in your voice is clear, and Jennie watches as a slight grimace crosses your features when you look past her and into the dorm. Luckily Rosé had already found the will power to move to the dining room, so you're spared from seeing her just yet. 

"If things get weird or uncomfy we'll leave, okay? I promise." She says, knowing she's convinced you once you give her a little nod. 

"Okay. But I'm only doing this because I missed Jisoo's cooking." A playful glint shimmers in your eye as you quirk your head to the side, teasing her. 

"Hey!" She groans, pushing your shoulder as the two of you walk down the little concrete path that leads to the front door. "I'm kidding! I missed Lisa's jokes, too." 

You laugh at the gasp she lets out, and you make sure to turn around and press a kiss to her temple to stop her from pouting. 

--

"So, Y/N, where did you go this time?" Jisoo asks, leaning against the marble island of the kitchen as she pops a piece of tanghulu in her mouth. The crack of the sugary coating pulls your attention away from Rosé, where it had momentarily been -- she looks awful. Bags rest underneath her eyes, her normally vibrant features crestfallen now as her gaze scans across the food on her plate. 

You look at Jisoo as you answer her. "The states. We worked with some local companies and small businesses to get more promotional material out in front of people. It's actually pretty amazing, guys -- you're blowing up over there. They love you." The girls smile at your words, feeling a sense of accomplishment swell within themselves. Back when they were trainees they never imagined that they'd end up this far, and yet here they are, seeing their dreams come true, day after day. 

You're just happy to be along for the ride. It's not easy by any means -- people often crack under the pressure and get discouraged by the hustle and bustle of everything that such a major operation entails -- but you've never been more thankful for a position in your life. 

"As they should," Lisa smirks, looking self-assured with the little cocky motion she does. You almost choke on the piece of food you just stuffed in your mouth, laughing at how ridiculous she looks. 

After successfully not dying, you look at her and shake your head. "Lisa, what is wrong with you?" She puts on her infamous meme face, pretending to be shocked by your question, and you cackle again. The sound makes Rosé jealous; she wishes she were the one making you laugh like that. 

Another hour or so passes with the 5 of you just relaxing and snacking together at the table, taking turns trading stories and jokes in the meantime. After finishing your dessert and complimenting the unnie's cooking skills, you make your way towards the kitchen with a groan of, "I'm so full" thrown over your shoulder. 

You begin washing the dishes, finding it only fitting seeing as they spent all that time preparing such a good meal. It's the least you can do. A smile tugs at your cheeks when you hear the door open, followed by light footfalls against the hardwood. Jennie. 

Warm arms snake around your waist as she hugs you from behind, resting her cheek against your back. Your brows furrow when you notice an unusual thing -- either Jennie grew a few inches in the last 5 minutes, or someone else is holding you. Their cheek reaches a place Jennie isn't tall enough to, and it all hits you.

It's Rosé. 

You go to shut the water off and step away, but the sounds of her quiet sniffles give you pause. "Please don't." She whispers into your shirt, bunching the material up within her fingers against your stomach. A pang of sadness pulls against your heart strings, the long forgotten feeling reignited by the waver in her voice. "Rosé," you start with a sigh, ready to launch into the practiced speech of how happy you are with Jennie now and how you've moved on. She tugs at your shirt, slowly turning you around, and you can't find it in yourself to break her heart even further in this moment. Her eyes are filled with what tears have yet to stream down her face, brimming with the salty liquid you hate to see. 

Even after everything, you can't stand to see her cry. 

So, perhaps stupidly, you allow her to lean forward and rest her head against your chest; you let her fall into your arms, sinking into the embrace she never intended to miss so much. 

It was innocent. Completely, utterly innocent, but Rosé couldn't stop herself -- not when you were there again, right in front of her, looking so good it hurt. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pushing her lips against yours in a kiss you weren't prepared for at all. Her mouth moved quickly against yours, knowing you'd be shoving her away at any moment. But she was okay with being selfish again -- she needed you then, and you allowed her to keep kissing you until you realized what was happening. 

As you go to stumble away and put distance between the two of you, the door once again opens; only this time, it's actually Jennie. Her eyes immediately dart between the two of you as she notices how Rosie's hands are still holding you close, both of your lips swollen from the kiss. All at once you realize how the situation must look, and you begin panicking. You knew this was a bad idea from the start. 

"Jennie, no. I promise this isn't what you think." You shake your head, finally freeing yourself of Rosé's grip as you take a couple steps towards your girlfriend. She takes an equal amount back, scoffing lightly at the memory of the scene she just witnessed. 

"Yeah, okay," she says, sounding anything but convinced as she makes her way towards the door. You go after her, but she holds a hand up -- after knowing her for so long, you've learned that that signal means to give her some time alone. Both of you know you'll go after her again later, but she needs some time right now. As she leaves the dorm, the heavy sound of the door shutting is the only noise that cuts through the palpable tension. 

"How could you do that?" You ask, voice small, not even turning around to look at Rosé. You doubt that she's even sorry. 

She isn't sorry. At least, not for kissing you. It felt good to have you like that, and she doesn't regret it. However, from what angle of your face your side profile offers to her, she can see how upset you are. That's what makes her feel the slightest bit guilty for her timing. 

"I spent so much time trying to get you to notice me, and now you choose to do that? You're unbelievable, Roseanne-- I'm finally happy, and what, you want to ruin that?” She takes the blows as they come, staying quiet. “If you've ever cared about me at all then you'll stay away." You set your jaw, willing the tears to go away. You've wasted too many on her, and you'll be damned to look weak right now. 

"Y/N, I-" 

"No. Don't apologize when we both know you don't mean it. You've always been selfish, Rosé." You bite back, not caring if the words cut her down like her old ones always used to do to you. Earlier, before her little stunt, you were starting to feel sorry for her; clearly though, that was yet another mistake on your part. 

You leave without another word, praying that she doesn't further complicate the situation by following after you. Jennie is the only thing on your mind as you hop in your car, having an idea of where she might be.

--

"Jennie, no. I promise this isn't what you think." 

Your worried voice replays in her mind for the millionth time, further tormenting her. She's been cheated on before, so that phrase isn't a new thing to her. 

She was always afraid this would happen. She used to lay awake at night, overthinking as usual, wondering when the beautiful thing the two of you created would ultimately come crashing down. It was too good to be true, and she curses herself for foolishly believing any different. 

The better part of an hour passes by as she sits on the park bench, reminiscing on all the memories you've made here. The idea of ending things with you and starting over with someone else sinks in, and she hates the feeling. She only wants you -- she's only ever wanted you -- and the thought that things could really be over now hurts her more than she cares to admit. 

Your eyes scan across the park, ghosting over the playground equipment until they zero in on her, sitting near the fountain that you shared your first kiss. Such a sap, you smile bittersweetly. 

You ruffle through the plastic bag that sits in the passenger's seat, moving the receipt out of the way so that you can pick up what you're really after. Returning your hands to the steering wheel, you grip it while giving yourself a little pep talk before exiting the car. You press a kiss to the present in your hand for good luck, hoping this encounter will go well. 

Water spouts from the top of the fountain, the sound growing louder the closer you get to Jennie. Her back is turned to you, and for that you're thankful -- you're not quite prepared to see how she'll be looking at you. Now just a few feet away, you say, "Marry me."

You’ll do whatever it takes to show her how crazy you are about her.

Her head whips around, completely taken aback by your proposal. She thinks that there's no way you're serious, but when she looks down to find her favorite flavor of ring pop in your hand, her eyes widen. You're sick of wasting time, and seeing that she hasn't yelled at you or turned you away yet, you take advantage of the situation. 

"Marry me, Jennie," you repeat, taking small, careful steps towards her until you're right next to the bench. "She kissed me, but I tried to push her away. I told her that you're the only one for me." 

She blinks, taking in your words as she notices you nervously toy with the plastic wrapper of the candy. She knows you're telling the truth; you're a terrible liar, and you wouldn't be here right now if you didn't want her back. If you wanted to choose Rosé over her, you had the perfect opportunity to do so back at the dorm.

But you don't; you want Jennie, and now you're standing in the middle of your favorite park, proposing with a piece of candy to prove that to her. The things you do for love. 

"It just scared me, Y/N. Seeing her wrapped around you like that--"

"I know, baby. I know. But I promise I didn't want it, and it meant nothing to me. I'm so in love with you, Jennie Kim." 

She smiles at the dopey grin on your face, seeing how smitten you are. 

"Okay," she answers back, yet again looking at your hands. 

"Is that a yes?" You ask, slowly beginning to tear open the wrapper. 

"Yes, dummy. I'll marry you." She declares, nodding her head with a laugh at how slow you are sometimes. 

"Yay!" You shout, stepping forward to pick her up in your arms. You set her back down with a smile, slipping the ring onto her finger as your heart soars. 

Jennie kisses you, letting the action convey all the emotions she's been through in the past few hours. "I love you." She sighs, resting her forehead against yours. 

"I'd surely hope so, jagi," you smirk against her lips, giggling at the squeal she lets out when you playfully pinch her side. Her kisses are replacing all traces of Rosé, and she's comforted by the fact that you'll so adamantly choose her, everyday. 

With a smile, Jennie realizes something: never again will she be forced to dream of having you in another life -- her wishes came true, and now she'll have you in this one, always.