#the burdens and the baggage of others to carry....

[mueritos]

an assortment of musings and scribbles...been listening to a lot of blood girl (the first drawing is based off blood girl lyrics), mormor, and moses sumney. been thinking and thinking and thinking....will be back to posting normie and sane shit soon 

(last pic is a baby picture of my twin @fatsmyname and i)

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[thelassoway]

Ted Lasso S01E01 Pilot || Ted Lasso S03E03 4-5-1 & S03E07 The Strings That Bind Us

[our-celia]

-

[josephquinnswhore]

Her Sanctuary

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: you start pulling away from Joel, he’s scared he’s going to lose you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: mentions of anxiety, bad mental health. Joel talking about Sarah!!! 😭 soft Joel!!!!! Hurt/comfort.

Note: kinda just wrote this on a whim after rewatching the last of us. I miss joel. @cool-iguana ily.

You were an outspoken person. About everything. There wasn’t a single topic you didn’t have an opinion on. Always a snarky reply, a joke, or following pun. That’s just who you were.

Joel spent months wishing you weren’t like that. That you’d just shut up so he could have a few moments of silence between you. His limited replies included a scowl, raised eyebrow or an annoyed grunt. He spent months travelling across the country with you, refusing to open up and reluctantly teaching you how to shoot his rifle.

He didn’t like how you made him feel. How he had started looking at you romantically. The sound of your laugh stirred something in him. Your bright eyes lightened the darkness in his own.

He never allowed himself to let you in; as much as a fight he put up. You wormed yourself into the cracks in the walls around his heart and started to mend him. He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, all he can remember is wanting to hear more of her laugh, he even found her a joke book in an old RV he scouted one evening at the trailer park they posted in overnight.

He had learned how to accept your brightness, for all its worth. Your dorky comments, crooked grin and boisterous laugh. Even those small touches to his back and arm when you would pass by, excusing yourself. Always followed by a mumbled, “sorry.”

But this.. this he didn’t know what to do. He was tearing himself up inside for not knowing what to do. You were quiet today, something bubbling inside of you that radiated off and in between them in a depressing aura that had Joel feeling breathless.

He even found himself staring at you, from the corner of his eyes, turning his head to watch you, making sure you kept up as you lingered a few steps behind him, completely silent. Not laughing, not crying. Silent.

It was heart wrenching and he couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces together to finish the puzzle. Nothing extreme had happened that they hadn’t faced before. They’d fought off some infected yesterday but—it couldn’t have possibly been that. They were fine. They survived.

Maybe you just wasn’t coping as well as he thought you were.

He tried to think of things to cheer you up, and the guilt consumed him when he realised he didn’t really know much about you. He had never asked. It was always you asking about him, pestering to know more about him. He cursed himself for being so selfish.

The harsh reality of their one sided dynamic hit Joel hard, he had always protected her, with his physical strength and ability to kill. That primal instinct that kept them both alive and for what? He couldn’t help her when she actually needed.

He felt utterly useless.

Until. He had an idea. That stupid fucking joke book that she treasured, had to cheer her up right? It had to draw out one of those loud laughs that made his insides flip, the smile that made your eyes squint that his heart craved to see.

He reached into his pack, pulling it out. She’d stashed it in there, insisting that her pack had no more room. He didn’t argue, he knew she struggled carrying the weight. He decided that day that he could carry the extra burden for things that she decided she couldn’t bare.

This baggage however, was tricker. He would take it if he could. He hoped this would work.

He turns around to look at you and what he saw made him feel like there was a metal vice around his heart, your slumped shoulders and black eye bags complimented a vacant look in your eyes, you were unrecognisable in comparison to your default sunshine personality.

“Hey, I was thinkin’ about that algae-bra joke you told me the other day.” He tried to make his voice as soft as he could when he spoke to you, trying to nudge a reaction.

Nothing, she barely looks at him. “Hm?”

“Anyways, I was thinkin’ we could pass the time with this.” He held the joke book in his hand, swinging his pack back over his shoulder, adjusting his rifle strap as he shuffles on his feet.

You felt a spark of something, something that was quickly put out by the fear and darkness that felt so consuming.

“Maybe later?” You offer quietly, walking past him. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Joel felt defeated. How had he failed so badly. How did he let this fester inside of her like a fucking disease that he didn’t know how to get rid of.

This was an infection in your mind; that he figured on his own. This kind of infection he didn’t know how to cure. He had always pushed his own anxiety and panic attacks down burying them, until he learnt to live with it.

But you; the one fucking good thing in his life that brought him life, hope. He wouldn’t allow you to ignore it, to let it consume you.

He wasn’t going to let you fall victim. He would do whatever it took.

He set up camp in silence, stuck in his head about how the fuck he was going to help you, a feeling of shame overwhelmed him as he sits by the fire, rubbing his hands together as you sit in your sleeping bag, across from him.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, legs pulled to your chest. It made you look smaller, the way you held yourself protectively. A reflection of the flames flicking in her eyes only made the mood more somber.

He can’t say something came over him, possessed him to say what he felt bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to lose her. To him, you were too important, you disarmed him and weaselled your way into his heart. He wasn’t going to let you leave, not ever.

“When my little girl used to get upset, she always shut me out like this, like what you’re doin’, I always told myself she’ll come around.” He nods to himself, as if reminiscing the memory.

You stay silent, watching him. Watching his expression soften.

“An’ now she’s gone it’s all I regret. Not doin’ more. Not making more of an effort with shit like that. Fuckin’ haunts me.”

Not once in the months they’ve travelled he had mentioned having children, a daughter, let alone a decreased one. He had mumbled a few times in his sleep, incoherently a name. Serine, Sari, Sarah? You could never figure it out, and never pried.

But here he was, sitting across from her looking on with longing eyes and his features the most relaxed she’d ever seen.

“I ain’t makin’ that same mistake again, seein’ you like this, pullin’ away. Feels like I’m failin’ all over again.” His admission shocks you, enough to stun a quiet confession from your own lips before you could think.

“I thought you were going to die.” He seems surprised to hear you talking, but stays silent, wanting you to talk more, wanting to hear more.

“I know we’ve dealt with plenty of infected.. we’ve had some close calls even, sure.” Your heart clenched as you recall.

Joel lying on the ground with that infected on top of him, Joel’s gun inches away as he fumbles, fingertips desperately grasping the hairs of grass as he searched for his weapon.

Holding the infected away with one arm, grunting in a struggle that he was bound to lose. It’s rotten teeth and fleshy stench was so close to grazing Joel’s neck. Inches away from sealing his fate.

You had somehow mustered some courage inside of you to tackle the infected, throwing it off Joel and giving him a split second to reach for his gun and put a bullet in the back of the infected’s head.

Your jeans still stunk, of gunpowder and blood. A stench so vile you couldn’t help but relive the moment, it was on your mind every second, unable to process it all.

You almost lost Joel. Joel almost fucking died. It was a breath away.

“I thought if I just—shut down maybe you’d get tired and ditch me.. worse yet I’d stop caring about you so damn much.” Joel’s ears perked at her soft admission.

“And I know you think I’m just—some annoying fucking girl that you have to protect and feed and I’m sorry..“ Joel wouldn’t allow another word.

“Hey. Look at me, now.” His tone was soft, but held a firmness, there was no doubt he wasn’t asking you. He needed you to look at him.

His face looked so soft beyond the flames of the fire, his expression was tender and kind; as no one had ever seen before. He looked beautiful, fuck, he was handsome. You’d always thought so.

“I know it was a close call, we’ve learnt from it, yeah? We won’t make the same mistake.” You nod, Joel continues.

“Don’t pull away from me sweetheart. Please.”

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel interrupts by patting the space beside him.

“C’mere sweetheart. C’mon.” You don’t waste a moment to plop beside him. He wraps his sleeping bag around you and his big hands grip around your torso to pull you into his.

“Tell me you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

For the first time since you’ve known Joel. He was the one asking for comfort, reassurance.

“Promise I’m not going anywhere Joel.” You nuzzle into him, his natural musk strung a desire out of her that all she could do was lean into him.

“You get some rest now. I’ll keep ya safe.” He murmurs into her ear, a promise.

All you could do was obey him. Closing your eyes as your body and mind revelled in the intimacy and vulnerability of this moment.

His head rested on top of yours, your hair gets stuck in the rugged coarse hairs of his beard. He finds himself nuzzling into you, allowing himself to get lost in you. After months of fighting you; he lets go. He lets you in.

You were his. And he wasn’t going to let anything fucking hurt you. Not even yourself. He would be your sanctuary. No matter what it took.

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 16.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. fluff, slight feelings

A/N. cute or naw

-> MASTERLIST.

There’s one month left to prepare for the Championships, yet here you were snoozing on, pro-volleyball player, Atsumu Miya’s floor.

“Y/N,” he calls, “Wake up,”

It’s bright, when you wake up, the sun is already shining high in the sky.

“Holy shit, what time is it?”

He looks behind him then back down at you, “2:36,”

This causes you to jump up, “And you didn’t wake me up?”

“No,” he says, “I ordered food, hurry up before it gets cold,”

Your face scrunches up at his reply, “No Atsumu, I need to go home,” your body aches as you make your way onto your feet.

Atsumu looks back at you with a dead serious look before saying, “You owe me a date,” before stalking off back into the living room.

Fuck.

———

After locating the extra toothbrushes in Atsumu’s bathroom, you follow the smell of the food into his living room. You couldn’t really see it last night since it was so dark, but his house is nice. But that’s to be expected from someone who’s a pro-volleyball player.

“I just order pizza and wings, if that’s alright?”

You make a noise in confirmation before finding a seat next to him on the couch, you reach out to grab a slice of pizza.

“This is your idea of a date?” you ask, taking a bite of the pizza.

“Mm, well, yeah,” he finishes the bite in his mouth before continuing, “The other ones will be fancier and more planned out though, so don’t worry,”

“Other ones?” your eyebrow raises at his choice of words.

You can tell even Atsumu caught himself off guard, hesitating before attempting to correct himself, “I mean like, if we were to hangout again with the guys,”

Shaking your head, you let out a breathy laugh before continuing to finish the slice.

Atsumu grabs his remotes and throws on the latest Rom-Com that had come out. 

“Ew, you’re a sap,”

“I have feelings, too, you know?”

Yep.

“So, do you plan on renewing your contract with Jackals after this season?” you attempt to start another conversation.

“Work talk? Really? While you’re with me?”

“Yes, because there’s nothing else to talk about,”

“Let’s just watch the movie,” he turns his attention back to the TV, “but yes, I am,”

You nod your head at that before also turning your head to the TV. 

You never considered yourself much of a romantic, which makes a lot of sense since you couldn’t help but fall asleep through the movie. You felt a little bad though, especially when Atsumu shook you awake every now and then to see if you were paying attention. 

It was surprisingly not too bad to be around him. Especially when he wasn’t throwing insults or profanity at you. This was a side to Atsumu Miya you never expected to see. 

“You’re not, like, plotting against me, right?” you say through sleepy eyes.

“What, no? What do you even mean?” his eyes tear off the TV for a brief second.

“Like, you’re not treating me all good, claiming you like me, as some sick joke?”

You see his ears turn red, he probably forgot that he confessed while drunk.

“No,” he hesitated before keeping a straight face, “I like you, for real,”

“And I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I’ll always be sorry to you for what I put you through,”

His words reach the younger you that’s deep inside of you. The words that she never heard finally being spoken, and it’s somewhat healing.

“You never deserved that,” he looks forlorn as he stares at you, “And if I could take it all back, I would,”

“I-” you’re at a loss of words. 

Maybe it was time to forgive him. If what he was saying was true and genuine, then he really meant every word that came out of his mouth.

“It’s fine, Atsumu. We can just put it behind us. I appreciate your words,” 

It was a burden to carry this baggage all throughout your life. It finally felt like it was right to let it all go now. 

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him. 

Forgive but never forget.

———

During the next month leading up to Championships, Atsumu took every chance he would get to sweep you off your feet. 

It might’ve been working. 

He’d come over after practices (even uninvited) to help you organize and take your notes, or sometimes you’d go to his (against your will) to watch movies or play card games. Good morning and good night texts being sent daily. 

It’d never escalate. Never. If something was going to happen, it was going to take time and more inner healing. 

You hate to admit it, but there was a chance you were falling for Atsumu. You hated it so badly. You know you in the past would murder present you for even considering him. But you now feels like it’s not so bad being in his presence.

It’s sad though. Ever since you began talking to Atsumu, it felt like the distance between you and Kiyoomi increased. You still try to text him as much as you possibly can, but it’d take days before he would get back to you.

You suppose it happens.

Atsumu is relentless with his advances, though. Sometimes annoyingly so. Every time he shows up at your door with flowers, popping the question will you be my girlfriend? You’re quick to shut him down with a hard no.

If Atsumu Miya wants you he’s going to have to be patient. It’s the least he could do.

“I don’t know why you say no, we’ve known each other for so long, since high school,” he pouts, looking up at you as he relaxes his head in your lap.

“Did you forget you bullied me for half of that time?” you smile down at him.

His silence is a response in itself. “Thought so,”

———

“Alright guys,” Coach Foster starts, “tomorrow is the big day,”

“I just want to say you guys have been working hard all season, and I’m so proud to have seen all of you grow,”

Some of the guys fake aw at the coach’s words.

“We’ll leave at 6AM tomorrow for the big stage, be there or fend for yourselves,” with a clap of his hands, “Practice dismissed,”

Atsumu is quick to run over to you, using a strong arm to wrap around you and pull you close.

“You ready for tomorrow?”

“Agh, let me go Atsumu!”

He laughs before letting you go, watching as you pat yourself down.

You blow your hair out of your face before finally responding, “I think the real question is are you ready?” you smirk.

“Duh, when am I not?”

“Hah,” you pull your bag onto your shoulder, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Let me walk you out,” he runs to grab his stuff before catching back up to you. 

“So what do you say we hangout tonight?”

“I say no,” you grin, “I have to wake up early tomorrow and so do you,”

“No fun, Y/N,” he whines. 

“Whatever you can miss the bus on your own,” you say as you unlock your car.

He scoots you over to open your car door for you.  

“You’re disgusting,” you laugh, “thanks, though,”

“Of course, get home safely,”

“Mhm, goodnight, Atsumu,” 

He watches as you buckle your seatbelt, giving him a small wave before you switch the gear and pull away.

Atsumu was in deep.

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[kutputli]

Louis the "Pimp": A Rebuke and Rebuttal

OK, IWTV fandom, I have been made aware that some (many) of you are genuinely not aware of some of the anti sex work implications of your statements around Louis and pimping, so -

First of all, some ground level assumptions: I am assuming we are all pro sex workers here. Which means that we all believe in the right for adults to consent to commercial sexualised labour, and to demand ethical working conditions just like any other worker. Sex work is work etc.

Now, that stance can and must coexist with the acknowledgement that sex work has both historically and currently been coerced from marginalised communities. In my part of the world, hereditary caste based sexual enslavement is an on-going atrocity, and similarly, in the United States Black enslaved people was disproportionatey victims of commercialised sexual abuse. (This is RELEVENT to Armand and Louis so it behoves everyone to inform themselves about these realities.)

What I'm saying now comes from the scholarship and testimonies of sex workers themselves, who have always been at the forefront of advocating for themselves as communities and unions. You can and should read through the publications of the Global Network of Sex Work Projects to ground yourself in these perspectives.

The idea that its ok to be a sex worker, but that a client or a pimp or a brothel owner deserves contempt, shaming or derison is an old one, associated with the dichotomy of pitable fallen women vs dispicable emasculated men (emasculated because of the patriarchal shame of a) paying for sex and b) living off of a woman's labour). This has manifested in what is known as the Nordic model (or, hypocritically, the Equality Model) of Prostitution, where sex workers themselves are deemed nominally free to practise their trade, but clients and third parties (pimps, managers, brothel owners) are criminalised. There is unambiguous peer-reviewed data showing the failure of this approach to protecting sex workers from harm, and almost every sex worker union has denounced it.

So now let's talk about this cultural and legal contempt and criminalisation of the third party, and specifically, the pimp figure. Unlike the brothel owner, the pimp is more often from a similar class and identity as the sex worker, often sharing the same living and working spaces. Pimps are often sex workers allies and collegeaues. They provide an interface between the client and the sex worker that can help screen them for safety and security, and the remove the additional burden of soliciting and marketing from the sex worker's labour.

And because it is important to talk about specifics, a pimp in marginalised communities of sex workers is often a brother, a father, or a lover to the sex worker who faces the same casteism, racism and classism that she does. He is often the father of the sex worker's child. In India, for example, even though prostitution itself is not criminal, any adult male living with a prostitute is assumed to be guilty of being a pimp unless he can prove otherwise, and can face imprisonment of up to 2 years with a fine. One of the demands of unionised sex workers, including those in India, has been to decriminalised pimping along with sex work, not just because pimps make it safer and easier for sex workers to get clients without having to actively solicit, but also because such criminalisation actively harms family units.

Of course, there are pimps who can be abusive and exploitative. This is true of any professional relationship, and this is also true of people in romantic and sexual relationships (like marriage). But to deem a pimp inherently as an abuser carries a lot of anti sex work and racist and classist baggage with it.

Why racist (and classist and casteist etc)? Because the men with capital were (and are) not often pimps. They are landlords and investors, who ran brothels and saloons and massage parlours and dance bars and other sites where sexual labour was commercialised. To denigrate a man for being a pimp as somehow worse than being the owner of a sweatshop or farm is a way of jeering at the men who have not been able to buy themselves the luxury of distance from the exploitation they profit from. And the men of capital were and are, overwhelmingly, those from the dominant identity (White. Savarna. etc.)

So NOW, with all that necessary context in mind, let's talk about Louis and what it means when fandom firstly calls him a pimp, and then second sneers at him for his perceived behavior as one.

You know who first calls Louis a pimp?

Daniel Molloy, a white man being the brash, confrontational journalist that he has the luxury of being.

Louis accurately describes his profession managing and operating a diversified portfolio of entireprises. This translates to investing his family's sizeable trust into real estate (he owns 8 out of 24 buildings on Liberty Street) and running establishments that make money from selling liquor, organised gambling and sex work. Just as not many Black men would have been in a position of power to make a profit from a sugar plantation as Louis' great grandfather did, not many Black men would have had the capital (and the business acumen) to own and operate a series of businesses that included sex work. Infact we see him collecting his profits from a white man who was closer to the pimp role - Finn.

Reducing this to calling him a pimp is the first of many racist microaggressions we will watch Daniel make. As someone who indulged in some kind of sex work himself, one might say some of Daniel's hostility is self-loathing. Nonetheless, there is a racialised element in his contempt towards both Louis and Armand that, I would theorise, comes from the distinction made between a white, educated man choosing to recreationally whore himself for drugs, and a Black man who earned a living from other people's sex work, or a Brown man who is perceived as a rent boy.

We then get to the idea of denigrating Louis' pimp-like behavior. First of all, let's look at Louis as the employer and manager of sex workers. Everything we have seen about him shows him to be courteous, considerate, and professional. His guilt at the entire situation of how sex work operates aside (and we can agree that it must have been exploitative and even abusive in general, and that he was complicit in such a system, as any capitalist is) - MOST importantly, we never see Louis doing the thing that patriarchy really resents a pimp for - sampling the goods for free. We never see him use his power over the sex workers he employs to get favours.

In fact he makes it clear that he visits Miss Lily precisely because she is part of a different establishment, and that both of them being Black in a majority white situation places them on a more equal footing. Watching Louis with Miss Lily, both is how he is with her sexually as well as socially, gives you the clearest evidence of how he behaves around sex workers he is having a relationship with. (Contrast that to Lestat, who buys her time and body as an act of one-upmanship with no concern for her preference, and then who kills her out of jealousy.)

So - Was Louis a pimp? No. Was Louis an abusive pimp? Also No.

Then why does the fandom continue to deploy this term in relationship to him?

It's racism, your honour. (The answer is almost always racism.)

To unpack this, lets jump forward from the 1910s where, again I remind you - very very few Black men in the United States were in any position to operate as fashionable brother owners with wealth to spare.

We now move to the 1980s, when one (but not the only!) sub-genre of rap was evolving - gangsta rap. In this sub-genre, Black musical artists like Too Short and Ice T were creating and more pertinently making accessible to white America, the signifier of the Black pimp figure. This drew from 1960s Black culture-making around West Coast pimps like Iceberg Slim, but also from an older storytelling tradition that linked the figure of the pimp with the archetype of the trickster. I'm not going to cite the wealth of literature you can find that theorises this, (nor defensively provide the mass of nuanced critique that Black feminists have offered) because the limited point I wish to make is -

When white America began enjoying (and appropriating) rap and hip-hop culture, one of the tropes it started perpetuating with the shallowest of understanding of its origins, was that of the specifically Black pimp. A figure who displayed wealth, but without (white-signifying) class, who was sexually active in a racialised hypermasculine way, but both a threat to women and contemptibly a leech off them.

THIS is the pimp archetype that is being evoked when fandom talks about Louis's 'pimp'ness.

It is racist. It is ahistorical and canonically unfactual.

It is also needlessly contemptuous of the sex workers (labourers and third parties alike) who are part of the community here on tumblr, so often praised as one of the spaces that is friendly to them.

Maybe think about all of that the next time you choose to use the word 'pimp'.

[kalki-tarot]

WHAT'S THEIR PURPOSE IN YOUR LIFE ? 🗝

pick only one picture that resonates the most with you. allow yourself to have an open mind and please only take what resonates as it's a general reading. this reading is only for entertainment purposes and is not 100% correct.

Allow me to tap into your energy, please.

Pile 1

the lovers, 9 of swords, 10 of wands, Temperance

For some of you this could be a love interest, and they are here to teach you the meaning of true & unconditional love. They are here to trigger healing in you, you may feel anxious or your past is suddenly triggered when you talk to this person. They are here for your spiritual growth. Love is Godliness, a feeling closest to god.

You may be twinflames because they trigger each other to heal. You may also be scared of love because it feels new to you, maybe you never received enough love from others and this made you feel bad about yourself. They are here to help you love yourself. It's their purpose to teach you love by triggering unhealed traumas.

You carry lots of baggages, even from your past life. They will help you live freely by releasing all of that and heal your inner child who feels like a burden, but is not. Even though I'm seeing that healing yourself will be a very tough journey, but that's the reason why your soul has incarnated into who you are today, at this moment.

You may have had experiences in your life when people lied to you or betrayed you, even in love you were cheated on. Your higher self is guiding you right now. Please focus on your healing and balancing your karma. They will help you address these wounds and they will also help you connect to your higher self and guides.

Pile 2

2 of pentacles, the fool, two of wands, page of swords

pile 2, your energy is very contradicting and hard to read. You are someone very confused and chaotic in life. You take risks then you immediately regret your life decisions lol. But the person you're asking about will help you with your chaotic energy and scattered behavior.

They are like a portal for you. New doors will be opened in your life through them. So be ready for it! They will help you get out of your inner chaos and explore the outer world more and create a balance between both.

They will go on dates with you. They may act a bit strict sometimes but it's for your betterment. You may not see the good in this right now, but later in life you'll be thankful to have them in your life. They can be a friend or a lover.

An extra thing I'm seeing is that you guys may connect over social media or just text a lot in general. You will make them feel like a child again. I'm also seeing that they will help you regain the lost momentum or control you had over your life.

Pile 3

ace of wands, king of pentacles, strength,the chariot, 9 of cups, 2 pentacles

Some of you could be asking about a mentor or a guide. They can be a spiritual master or a teacher of yours. They are here to provide you guidance and help you develo thinking abilities and skills so that you can manifest opportunities in your life. Or reach your goals.

They are here to provide you support, emotional and physical or even spiritual. They will console you whenever you feel down or sad. You are like their own child. And they deeply connect with you to a spiritual level.

You are someone who is very chaotic amd lacks direction in life. They will probably come into your life in a situation where you are juggling between a lot of things without clarity. They will show you a way out of this world. They will help you create a path and move in proper direction with a sense of clarity. They will also help you get stable in life.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon wasn't one to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Emotions weren't a strong suit of his, and he'd learned throughout the years how to keep the past buried. Throughout your relationship, he'd kept himself very reserved, only letting you in on small parts of his life and his troubled past.

He never wanted to burden you with the things he'd endured, as a small part of him worried you wouldn't love him because of it, or that you simply wouldn't be able to handle all of his baggage, so he kept it inside. That wasn't to say it didn't weigh on him though. To carry that much baggage took its toll on the man, and some nights were worse than others.

~

You heard a knock on your door late at night, drawing your attention away from the show you were watching.

You scuffled your fluffy sock covered feet to the door, and peeked through the peephole to find your boyfriend Simon on the other side.

You unlocked the door and opened it, causing Simon to turn and look at you. He looked disheveled. His mask was off displaying stubbled cheeks and dark circles under his eyes.

He started at you a long moment before engulfing you in a hug. It took you a moment to process, as it was not often he showed any sort of physical affection. You breathed in his scent, and you stood on your toes as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You stood there for some time, Simon clearly not wanting to let you go, as his tight grip on you did not falter in the slightest.

"Are you okay?" You asked quietly, pulling away to meet his eyes.

Simon took a moment before answering. He didn't want to scare you away, but he needed you now more than ever. "No."

You nodded your head and grabbed his wrist to pull him inside. He followed you wordlessly, and proceeded to sit on the couch as you instructed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, sitting on your knees in front of him, stroking his clasped hands.

Simon said nothing, as he let his head hang down slightly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"Okay, you know what we are gonna do? I'm gonna go make some brownies, I'll pop open a bottle of wine, and we can watch some trashy reality show to drown out your thoughts, okay?'

He gave you a small nod as you gave him a kiss on his nose before making your way to the kitchen.

He took in his surroundings as you started the brownies, sighing deeply. There was always something comforting about being in your presence. He knew he didn't deserve you, your kind touches and gentle heart, but my God, he'd stay by your side for as long as you'd let him.

~

Later on, as the two of you fried your brains with reality TV and ate all the brownies you could handle, Simon slowly went to lay his head on your lap.

You smiled warmly down at him and started to massage his scalp gently. Simon relaxed, truly, for the first time that night, and he nuzzled his head into your legs.

He let his mind wander to you, and a warm feeling filled his insides. He turned his head to you slightly. "I love you."

You let out a silent gasp, and tears started to form in your eyes. It was the first time in your year long relationship he'd ever said those three words to you.

"I love you too, Simon Riley. Always."

Simon smiled to himself before returning his head to your thighs, as you continued to thread your fingers through his hair softly.

As he laid there, he finally was able to realize that being taken care of by someone you love, might not be such a bad thing after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just a lil blurb of Simon telling you he loves you for the first time. Thinking of making it for the rest of the gang too🙈

[inkspiredwriting]

Silent Yearning

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five had first met Y/n at a coffee shop near the academy. He was waiting for his siblings, silently sipping his black coffee, when she walked in. The air seemed to change when she smiled at the barista, her laughter filling the room like a melody. Five's heart skipped a beat.

He’d watched her from his corner table, feeling a strange pull toward her. When their eyes met, he felt an instant connection, a spark he hadn’t experienced in his long, convoluted life. Despite the scars of time and the burdens he carried, Five felt a flicker of hope.

Y/n, oblivious to his inner turmoil, simply smiled back and went about her day.

Five’s encounters with Y/n became more frequent as if fate were drawing them together. They would often chat in the coffee shop, sharing stories and laughing over the absurdities of their respective lives. For the first time in ages, Five found himself looking forward to something other than his Job.

Their friendship grew, becoming a beacon of light in his otherwise chaotic existence. Five cherished every moment with Y/n, savoring the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her passions, the way she laughed at his dry humor, and the comforting warmth of her presence.

But as their bond deepened, Five noticed a shadow looming over his happiness—a shadow in the form of Y/n’s boyfriend, Michael.

Michael was everything Five wasn’t—charming, kind, and stable. He treated Y/n with a tenderness and respect that Five could only admire from afar. The sight of them together, holding hands or sharing a private joke, was like a knife twisting in Five’s chest.

Five kept his feelings hidden, burying his longing beneath a façade of stoic composure. He valued Y/n’s happiness more than his own and refused to let his desires complicate her life. But the pain of unspoken love gnawed at him, especially when he saw the way Y/n looked at Michael, with a love that was pure and unwavering.

One rainy evening, as Five sat in the coffee shop alone, he saw Y/n and Michael walk in, laughing and soaked from the rain. They took a seat near him, not noticing his presence.

“I have something for you,” Michael said, pulling out a small box. Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise and delight as he revealed a delicate necklace, shimmering with a simple elegance.

“It’s beautiful,” Y/n whispered, her eyes brimming with emotion as Michael fastened it around her neck.

Five watched, his heart heavy with sorrow. He wished he could be the one making her eyes sparkle with joy, the one who could make her feel loved and cherished. But he wasn’t. He was just a friend, an observer of the happiness he yearned to be part of.

Unable to bear the weight of his feelings any longer, Five decided to confide in Klaus, the only one who might understand his dilemma.

Sitting on the academy’s rooftop, with the city lights twinkling below, Five finally opened up. “I love her, Klaus,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “But she’s with someone else. And she’s happy.”

Klaus, for once, was silent, listening intently. “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

Five shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. “Because it wouldn’t be fair to her. She deserves someone who can be there for her, someone who doesn’t come with the baggage of a broken timeline and a fractured soul.”

Klaus sighed, placing a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sometimes, the heart wants what it wants, Five. But you’re doing the right thing, even if it hurts.”

Five nodded, the weight of his unspoken love pressing down on him. He knew Klaus was right, but that didn’t make it any easier.

The inevitable day came when Y/n and Michael announced their engagement. Five attended the celebration, putting on a brave face, congratulating them with a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

He watched from the sidelines as Y/n beamed with happiness, her eyes shining with a joy that made Five’s heart ache. As the evening wore on, he found himself retreating to the quiet of the balcony, staring out at the stars, lost in his thoughts.

Y/n found him there, her expression concerned. “Hey, you okay?” she asked softly.

Five forced a smile. “Yeah, just needed some air. It’s a big night for you.”

Y/n stepped closer, her eyes searching his. “I’m glad you’re here, Five. You mean a lot to me.”

Her words, meant to comfort, only deepened the pain. “You mean a lot to me too, Y/n,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I hope you know that.”

Y/n smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I do. Thank you.”

Five nodded, unable to say more. As Y/n walked back inside, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew he had to let her go, to accept that she would never be his. And despite the ache in his heart, he resolved to be happy for her, to cherish the moments they shared and to hold onto the memories of their friendship.

As the stars shimmered above, Five made a silent vow—to always be there for Y/n, even if it meant loving her from a distance. It was the least he could do for the woman who had brought light into his dark world, even if only for a brief moment.

Time moved on, and so did Five, carrying his unspoken love like a secret treasure. He continued his work, facing new challenges and navigating the complexities of his existence. But in the quiet moments, when the world was still and the weight of his responsibilities faded, he would think of Y/n and the love that could never be.

It was a bittersweet acceptance, a love that remained unspoken but forever cherished. And as Five looked up at the night sky, he found solace in knowing that some loves, though unfulfilled, could still bring a measure of peace to a restless heart.

[kusanagihaku]

don't mind this too much I'm just typing out my thoughts but I feel like Haku carries around a lot of emotional baggage and this might be because of his issues with his family and maybe--if there are any--unresolved issues with Frostheim?? I know him and Tohma aren't on the best terms fs.

Anyway, I feel like whenever Haku brings up any issues from the past he talks about them so... casually? When Haku brings up Tohma in his home screen voice lines, it doesn't seem like he holds any grudges toward Tohma--if anything I read it thinking they were almost friendly with each other before I saw his campus convo w/ Tohma. It's also silly to me how when Haku brought up his family being "happy to see him gone" he didn't seem like he was bothered by it at all. I don't mean to say he was actually unbothered by it ofc I just feel like he definitely has a lot of baggage and I want to assume he tries not to ponder on it too much for his own mental health and to maybe not be a burden on others?? lowkey relatable but my take on Haku is that he definitely doesn't like to bring up his past unless it's relevant to the conversation 😭 and even then he gives a vague amount of details and doesn't really seem to state his opinions on them.

I feel like his affinity 19 line kinda just reaffirmed this for me? it just seems like he bottles up a lot of his emotions so when you get really close to him he feels comfortable enough to just vent a little bit... but even so he still apologizes. it's also interesting to me how when you get closer to him with affinity he lets you in on his life a little more (his poor sleep habits, his kind of ominous level 25 line, also his mini rant about how much it must suck to have a curse. his input on that is interesting to me given that he's so close to Rui and he tells mc that he knows how to get around a curse but I digress)

my affinity with Haku is like 5 right now so I can't really speak but he's definitely one of my favorites so far so I wanted to ask an actual Haku fan what they thought!!!

regarding haku bottling things up: i agree with you that haku seems like he's carrying around a lot but tries not to think about it too much? i don't think he bottles it up on purpose, but haku does seem like he has a 'if i don't think too much about it i can pretend it didn't happen' kind of vibe. which is also what happened when we go to ask him about the clash - he doesn't want to talk about it since it brings up pretty bad memories for the ghouls.

but more so, i think he might also be a 'it already happened, so why bother thinking about it so much?' kind of person. he brings up his family being "happy to see him gone" and how they think he's an "irresponsible heir" in a pretty flippant way, which makes me think he's either refusing to think about it too much because he'll actually need to think about what will happen after he graduates from darkwick, or he's already finished processing it and is all like it is what it is, what can i do?

i'm leaning more towards the latter because of how casually he treats it and how he just drops it into conversation. it's not big enough of an issue to him that he has to keep himself from dumping it all on you. it doesn't read like a shameful secret either, just more like a part of him and his history that just is - it just slips out whenever it comes up in conversation. after all, there's nothing he can do to change it, right?

sidenote: it also makes me wonder if haku is putting in so much effort in hotarubi missions not only to make up for subaru and zenji (given that subaru has limited firepower and zenji is... zenji...) but also to prove (to who? to himself? to whoever is watching?) that he can be responsible, he can take care of his house... after all, it's not as if subaru and mc can go talk to his family and show them how responsible he actually is in taking care of hotarubi... right?

regarding higher affinity lines 19 to 23: i agree!! it seems like the closer you get to him, the more relaxed and open he seems around you. although the higher affinity lines do just read like you're just spending a lot more time in hotarubi in general - you're awake / maybe i'll take a nap / i'm going to bed... you're around hotarubi and spending so much time together with him in his room your hours start blurring together. it's really cute also when i think about him hinting in his chat he wants to take a nap with you on the veranda. haku, rest!!!!! i say, ignoring my own massive sleep debt.

regarding his affinity 24 line about being cursed: the more i read it, the more i wonder if it's not just him being sympathetic to rui and mc being cursed... what if haku has also been cursed? that's why he's so clear about the helplessness and the "why me?" that accompanies the curse... either that or he's just a really great listener and really empathetic and kind. which, given what we've seen of him, is also a very real possibility. he has a really big heart i'm gna beat his entire family up please he needs someone on his side and to see the good in him beyond what he does for others for ONCE

regarding affinity 25 line: i've been thinking about this also!! why does he want you to forget about him, and why does he think that's selfish!!!! you want to remember him and your time together because no matter what happens in the end / if you're hurt by him or your curse, these memories are precious to you - even if you lose him, at least he was yours to lose.

he wants you to forget because somehow, he thinks the memories you have of him will cause you pain. he doesn't want to see you suffer through the process of losing him as you succumb to your curse. if you just forgot him, maybe you could go a lot easier. to him, it's selfish because you clearly don't want to forget and they're your memories and it's your prerogative, but for his own sake, he wants you to forget because he wants to see you go without pain. if you forget about him, the only one who suffers will be him.

or: haku knows memories make a person. he knows this from subaru's stigma, and he knows this from how ghosts are just memories of people who live on. once the anomaly in you takes over, if you'd just forget about him, as long as it doesn't carry any memories of your life together, it means that you're well and truly gone and he can now kill the anomaly with the knowledge that there is nothing left of you, without any sort of guilt.

regarding the haku-tohma relationship: i think also in light of the theory that haku was a frostheimer who transferred out to hotarubi (and perhaps even transferred out alongside yuri) and left a big gap for tohma to fill, it makes sense that tohma doesn't see him in a good light. tohma seems like the kind who values loyalty a lot (given how he maintains his friendship with alan), and as a result might see haku as a traitor to jin/frostheim. which also explains why when they met in ep7 ch19 tohma was all like, "our wheelhouse?" when haku used 'our' to refer to himself as part of hotarubi, as if something about haku treating himself as part of hotarubi rubs tohma the wrong way. maybe he's bitter haku doesn't think of himself as frostheim anymore? which doesn't make too much sense to me since tohma transferred out of vagastrom... unless he also thinks of himself as vagastrom at heart? maybe his frostheim identity is stored in his monocle

at the same time, haku just treats tohma sort of coolly ("if you've got something to say to me, just say it.") - he doesn't want to play politics like tohma does. which i think is very much in line with what you said about him not holding any grudges towards tohma - if anything, the tension seems very one-sided and something haku wants to leave behind.

(that one theory going around also makes sense to me... that haku would transfer out of frostheim not because of anything major but because he couldn't stand the rich people politics going on in there... he's too lazy for that sort of shit... which is why he enjoys hotarubi a lot more, since subaru is a really sincere person and zenji is just... zenji...)

anyway tldr; sorry this was a massive word vomit and idk if i even answered anything but i think haku just needs someone on his side for once and mc needs to stop second-guessing him because i, for one, will follow him wherever he goes,,,

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Ouchie

**

It happened so quickly. Hyunjin found himself facing an unexpected challenge. He had sustained an injury during a particularly intense rehearsal for the VMA’s. It left not just physical pain but also emotional ripples that extended to the closest person in his life—the ninth member, his girlfriend, Y/n.

He was trying to do a flip off of I.N’s back about once Y/n had walked in he lost concentration and lost his balance causing him to fall on his ankle badly.

As the news of Hyunjin's injury spread within the group, concern and support poured in. The boys, bound by a deep sense of camaraderie, rallied around their injured member. However, within this sea of well-wishing voices, Y/n found herself grappling with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

In the quiet moments that followed the accident, Y/n, her heart heavy with a sense of responsibility, hesitated to approach him. Fear clung to her like a shadow, whispering irrational thoughts that she was somehow the cause of his injury. The once effortless connection between them now felt fragile, and the fear of unintentionally causing him harm loomed large in her mind.

One day, as Hyunjin, determined to bounce back from the injury, navigated through physical therapy, he noticed the subtle distance that had crept into his interactions with her. Her hesitance to touch him, the cautious glances, and the unspoken anxiety were impossible to ignore.

"Baby, can we talk?" Hyunjin implored, his voice a mix of vulnerability and frustration, as he gently grabbed her hand.

Y/n on the other hand, her gaze averted, pulled away. "I... I don't want to hurt you accidentally. I'm scared, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin, sensing the magnitude of her apprehension, furrowed his brows. "Scared? You've been avoiding me, and I don't understand why. I need you with me during this, not distant."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she struggled to articulate her fears. "What if I was the reason you got hurt? What if I distract you, and something worse happens?"

Hyunjin, taken aback by her words, held her gaze with a mixture of confusion and concern. "What are you talking about? You didn't cause my injury. Accidents happen, and it's not your fault."

Despite Hyunjin's reassurances, she couldn't shake off the irrational guilt that clung to her. In a desperate attempt to protect him, she distanced herself, inadvertently creating a barrier between them.

Recognizing the complexity of the situation, Chan, the wise leader of Stray Kids, observed the dynamics between Hyunjin and her. Sensing an underlying issue, he decided to intervene, understanding that communication was key to resolving their emotional tangle.

One evening, as they all gathered in the shared space of their dorm, Chan approached her with a gentle smile. "Mind if we talk for a bit?"

She nodded, a mix of apprehension and curiosity in her eyes. Chan guided her to a quieter corner, away from the watchful eyes of the group.

"Something seems off between you and Hyunjin," Chan began, his voice a soothing melody. "Mind sharing what's going on?"

The ninth member, her emotions bubbling beneath the surface, hesitated before speaking. "I'm scared, Chan. I'm scared that I caused Hyunjin's injury, that my presence might distract him, and he'll get hurt again."

Chan, his gaze warm and understanding, took a moment to absorb her words. "Hyunjin cares about you deeply. He wouldn't want you to carry this burden. Let me help you understand that you're not to blame."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to articulate the irrational fears that had taken root in her mind. Chan, with a calm presence, patiently listened, allowing her to unpack the emotional baggage that had been weighing her down.

"Sometimes accidents happen, and they're beyond anyone's control," Chan reassured her. "Hyunjin needs your support, not your distance. It's important to communicate and navigate through these emotions together."

Encouraged by Chan's words, she found herself opening up about the irrational fears that had fueled her distancing from Hyunjin. Chan, with empathy and wisdom, gently guided her toward a more balanced perspective.

"You care about Hyunjin, and that's evident in your concern. But you need to understand that accidents aren't caused by love or distraction. They're unfortunate events that happen in the course of our lives," Chan explained. "Hyunjin doesn't blame you, and he needs you by his side, not pushed away."

Feeling a sense of clarity and comfort, the ninth member nodded. "I just... I don't want to be the reason for his pain. It scares me."

Chan, with a reassuring smile, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Fear is natural, but don't let it control you. Talk to Hyunjin. Share your feelings with him. He loves you, and he wants to face these challenges together."

Armed with Chan's words of wisdom, Y/n approached the impending conversation with a newfound sense of courage. Later that evening, as Stray Kids gathered for a meal, she found herself seeking a quiet moment with Hyunjin.

"Hyunjin, we need to talk," she began, her voice a mix of vulnerability and determination.

Hyunjin, sensing the seriousness of her tone, nodded and guided her to a more secluded corner. "What's going on?"

Taking a deep breath, she looked into his eyes. "I've been scared. Scared that I might have caused your injury, that my presence might distract you and lead to something worse."

Hyunjin, his expression softening, gently cupped her face. "Listen to me, it's not your fault. Accidents happen, and I don't blame you. I need you with me during this, not pushing me away."

Her eyes filling with tears, finally allowed herself to be vulnerable. She shared the irrational fears that had haunted her, the weight of guilt that had driven a wedge between them.

Hyunjin, listening with compassion, wiped away her tears. "I understand your fears, but we face challenges together. You're not a distraction; you're my strength. Don't carry this burden alone. We're a team, okay?"

Embraced by Hyunjin's understanding and reassurance, she felt a sense of relief. The emotional barricade that had separated them began to crumble, making way for a renewed connection.

Later that night, as they all gathered for a practice session, the dynamics within the group had shifted. Their relationship , once tested by emotional tension, now resonated with a shared understanding of vulnerability and support.

Chan, observing the positive change, smiled as he watched Hyunjin and Y/n interact. The unspoken fears had given way to open communication, reinforcing the bond that defined Stray Kids not just as a musical group but as a family of friends navigating the complexities of life together.

The injury that had initially cast a shadow over Hyunjin and his girlfriend's relationship became a testament to the strength that emerged when love, understanding, and open communication prevailed. The stage, once a battleground.

[mamani-bento]

weight (satoru gojo)

gojo x reader, 1.4k, gender not mentioned

established relationship, fluff + comfort

the poorest little meow meow

mamani-bento's masterlist!

there’s something about tiredness in gojo’s life. something about how the exhaustion of carrying a weight and a future, neither just his own, has followed him around for years, like a dutifully grotesque pet dog.

he uncomplainingly lets it pad at his heels for the longest time, twisting his sense of self-preservation into a similarly dark thing. he masks his loneliness with a wide grin and his weariness with a silly joke, but every day, his back breaks from carrying his heavy heart. gojo has always been a powerful man, but to bear this weight alone has left his emotional spine feeling perpetually hunched.

it fluctuates in effort and attention demanded from him. lighter in the early mornings, as he wakes up in your arms, blinking blearily at your sleepy but fond grin at his uncharacteristic sluggishness. lighter too on the weekends he gets off - slow sunday mornings that he spends putting together elaborate brunches that you pretend to help with (you chop a tomato and decide to shift to moral support after that); or the saturday nights outside with friends, your heated gaze catching his from across the bar, the promise of your body flush against his once you reach home curling low in his belly.

sometimes, he experiences flashes of time when he doesn't register the weight at all, leaving him reeling. brushing his teeth with you, reflections side-by-side as you pull funny faces at each other in the mirror. the fiery glow of the setting sun catching your smiling, upturned face at the beach, like calling to like. waking up to you, always waking up to you. these moments when his breath catches in his throat like a lump of something too-sweet that he's trying too hard to not choke on to register the ephemerally absent burden.

but there are other times - dark, terrible times - that the heaviness threatens to swallow him whole.

the last few hours have been a blur of activity. lingering adrenaline from the heady mission leaves gojo's body in a constantly draining, ugly streak, his energy dipping lower with every step he takes. he had waved away nanami's offer to drop him home, tired of being so on and looking forward to the quiet and solitary walk. now, as his legs trudge along on muscle memory alone and the strain in his eyes starts to feel like too much, he's wondering if he should have just accepted.

he finally reaches the front door, wondering if you're back home from work, every part of his being praying that you're on the other side of the wood. his keys click in the lock and he steps into the one place he can lay down the baggage.

he registers the sound of the television at the same time as you call out, "gojo? is that you?"

he doesn't bother with a verbal response, unceremoniously kicking his shoes off and entering the living room. he rounds the corner of the foyer and pauses, heart briefly unclenching in one of those stark instants.

your hair is a mess, half-dry from a shower and curling near the tops of your ears. you've been complaining that it's getting too long these days, difficult to manage. you're dressed for bed, soft and fraying cotton t-shirt and shorts with strawberries printed on them. the realisation that you had waited up for him has his insides feeling raw, all scraped and tender with your love.

at his entrance, your expression changes from curiosity to one of sympathetic understanding. he's never been able to hide his exhaustion around you. he's given up trying to long ago. you peel away the layers with the slightest glance and he's fully exposed before he ever realises what's happening.

without another word, he lets his bag slip off his shoulders and drop to the floor, and takes one, two, three steps to the couch where you're sat. it's a bit of a squeeze, and he has to keep his knees bent, but with some shifting on both of your parts and your amused huff, gojo manages to lie down on the three-seater with his head on your lap.

he burrows his face in the fabric of your t-shirt as a hand comes up to soothingly card through his hair. humming as your nails lightly scratch his scalp, he lets out a deep sigh, weight dropping with the smell of your shampoo, the comfort of your presence. neither of you say anything as he takes his time to come up for air, once he's fitted out with enough ammunition to face the outside again. the television maffles in the background.

when he turns back to face the ceiling, head securely cushioned by your thigh, you're looking down at him with a practiced discernment that leaves him feeling naked to himself. another slight puff of air leaves his lips as he lets his eyelids flutter closed.

"do you want to talk about it?" you softly ask, your soothing ministrations on his hair not slowing down.

gojo cracks a single eye open. thinks about it. decides that it's too much and gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. imperceptible to anybody but you, that is. "tired," he mumbles before resting his eyes again.

one of your palms comes to cup the back of his head, gently lifting as the other hand deftly undoes the knot on the blindfold. another weight that you effortlessly dismantle. the strip of cloth is placed on the arm of the couch next to you.

once his head is comfortable on your lap again, you easily slip your hand into his, resting interlocked fingers on his stomach. "have you eaten?" you ask next, thumb rubbing slowly across his skin, tracing love that simultaneously keeps him in one piece and shatters him into a thousand.

he nods. they had gotten sandwiches a few hours ago at a gas station on the way back.

"have you eaten enough?" you pointedly ask, as if reading his mind. you might as well be.

gojo remains silent. gives a small shake of his head.

thankfully, you don't go to remove him from his cozy position. he's quite content where he is now, cocooned in this bubble of affection you've created. instead, you lift his hand that's ensconced in your smaller one, his long fingers curling in your grip as you brush your lips across his knuckles.

the tenderness in your touch leaves him breathless, and he marvels, not for the first time, how he had survived for so many years without this. he's never known this sort of peace before - somebody to come home to, their lap to lay his head on, room in their heart for him to set up messy shop.

sometimes, he doesn't know what to do with it, honestly. can't quite figure out where to put his hands when you show such kindness, like he's somehow worthy of your love. he had a hard time letting you beat at the fog that he's lived with forever, but patiently, you kept bringing bigger sticks, just by being around him. he's better at it now. better at convincing himself in moments like these that this peace isn't a borrowed thing that'll disappear in the morning.

"is there any dinner left?" he asks softly. he'll let you take care of him. he deserves it. you think he deserves it, and he'll trust your judgment.

"mm-hmm. i'll heat it up when you're ready to eat."

he feels the drain of energy, yes, but also a load slowly getting lighter somewhere inside him. the dim yellow lighting of the room, the cushioned couch under his limp body, the sounds of the television regaled to the background, and you.

always, you.

he has a laundry list of things to do tomorrow - classes, mission report, demonstrations, debriefing, all the people he has to be loud for - but, he'll wake up in your arms. and you will give him that look as the sun streams into the quiet room, that fond grin as he works to get his brain up and running. and he will feel the weight similarly start to ease away, like a pavlovian condition he doesn't want to fight.

the thought is enough to give him the strength to lift his head from your lap. you cup his cheek with your free palm, looking at him like he isn't the strongest sorcerer, like he isn't contact person number one for the jujutsu world, like he's just a man who's tired, and it feels like stepping into a beam of sunlight that warms his frigid skin. not letting go of his hand, you rise, and he follows. for now, to the kitchen so he can get some food. but really, he'll always follow to the next morning, and the next and the next, where he gets to wake up to you.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Samuel Seo x Reader: Carry Me

Requested. G/N. Can be platonic.

"Jump on then!"

You toss over your shoulder, half squatting and bracing yourself.

Samuel watches with incredulous eyes as you (average height, average weight, average strength) prepares to carry him with complete confidence.

Him. Samuel Seo. Touching 6ft 5. Over 200lbs of solid muscle. Did you hit your head in the night and he hasn't noticed?

Where on earth you got this idea from, why you suddenly needed to prove this-

(Although Samuel did get that part. He has wanted to prove a lot of things over the years. Sometimes his inferiority complex just grips onto something like a rabid dog that won't let go.)

You had suggested a princess carry at first.

"I'm gonna sweep you off your feet!" you winked, earning a small huff of amusement. Then proceeded to attempt to do so. Key word: attempt.

Samuel's weight didn't budge no matter how much you grunted, face turning beet-red from the exertion.

The princess carry was downgraded to a fireman's lift (unsuccessful), and now you had tampered your expectations and decided to go for a piggyback.

"Are you still doing this?"

"Yep!" and you signal at your back, ready for him.

(Samuel likes to appease you. Appease you like he hasn't ever done with anyone else. Something that has grown, evolved to be more than all his trauma and complexes and-

He doesn't like to dwell on it. How much you mean to him. It's fine. Just something he has grown used to, lives with. Like an annoying neighbour, who's muffled voice barely registers through the thin walls anymore. Compartmentalises his feelings like all the other things he doesn't want to think about.)

He steps forward with hesitancy, a world away from his usual confident gait. Doesn't so much jump, as lean on you. With great care, shifting his weight until it is eventually all transferred from his feet to you.

You're still standing. Just about. And he is impressed.

(But should he be though? You've taken him, all his burdens and baggage. His highs and his lows. His downward spirals into despair, his ascents into mania, and you're still standing. You're still here-)

"Fuck, ohmygod, shit,"

Samuel hears you groan beneath him, a stream of expletives leaving your lips as he chuckles into your hair, wrapping his arms around you.

[redheadspark]

hi could i have az from acotar with „you know i love you, right?” and „stay? i just ... don't want to be alone right now.”

A/N - Awww I think this is great for Azriel! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

90%

Summary - Azriel never needed his walls up when it came to you

Warnings - Angst and fluff mixed together

“How bad was it, Cassian?”

“Remember that whole incindet with the new recruits a few years back?  That one recruit breaking all of his arm?  It’s like that….but a bit worse,”

You grimaced, biting your nail for a quick moment as Cassian patted you on the shoulder and left you to take care of your mate.  Speaking of which, your mate was sitting out in the garden of the Townhouse, hunched over as he was perched on the bench and his head was in his hands.  You sensed it in his shoulders and in how his breathing was still uneven, his wings tucked in far too tight against his backside, his anger was getting the best of him.  As soon as Cassian closed the door behind him to leave the pair of you alone, you were reaching through your mind to silently tell them that you were there.  Maybe he already felt it when you were brought outside to find him, or even before that when he left the training camp with Cassian.  

But you knew that he needed you.

Being mates with the Spymaster of Night Court was no easy walk in the park, nor has it ever been for the last 200 years that you two were together as mates and husband and wife.  You knew from the moment you two became mates that your walk through life together was going to be rough at times and almost strenuous. But you also knew that it was going to be filled with life and adventure, mostly because it was Azriel. He had plenty on his plate when it came to his allegiance to Rhysand and Night Court, plenty of nights out on missions and thousands of hours hiding out in the shadows to collect secrets and information.  

But with you, there was no sense of him needing to hide himself with you.  He could unfold his wings and let his shoulders sag, his eyes twinkled from the mundane conversations that you two would have over dinner or a glass of wine, and even his laughter which was deep and filled with happiness made your heart flutter.  Azriel was not like his Spymaster persona when he was around you. 

However, it was safe to say that Azriel still had his moments of anger and rage.

You knew him well enough when he was carrying baggage from an old mission or from the training camp.  He would try his best not to let it inflict the marriage of your home at the Townhouse, but it was never perfect.  You did understand when those moments happened, his had plenty of burdens to carry on his shoulders that would be too heavy for him at times.  

Most of the time he would hide out on his own to cool off or one of the other boys would take him to the mountains for a few hours to get some fresh air.  Other times he would come to you and find peace with your presence, you would draw him a bath or make his favorite meal from scratch.  

You walked over carefully, towing off your shoes to be barefoot across the grass.  Your eyes were still on Azriel’s backside as he was clutching his fingers tightly together.  Approaching Azriel when he was angry was a skill in itself, you’ve done it several times and in several situations.  As you reached up to touch the top of his shoulder, you felt another shift in the bond and you hummed.  

Frustration….anger…..

“You know I love you, right?” You asked him gently as your voice floated above the pair of you, Azriel shifting on the bench and unclenching his fingers carefully, “And you know that you can always talk to me about what’s on your mind,”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Azriel mumbled, though his hand reaching up to lace your fingers together on his shoulder, “it’s not that I don’t wish to tell you….but it’s not your burden to take,”

“Unfortunately, I don’t believe that since we made vows to lean on each other,” You said in a soothing tone, leaning over to kiss the top of his head before you moved to sit next to him on the bench.  Azriel moved his head to lean on your shoulder, having you grin as you spoke again, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just know Im here for you if you need to talk…or vent….or bitch and complain,”

“No, I won’t do that with you,” Azriel reasoned as you saw him inhale slowly and deeply.  Your other hand went around his waist to almost tuck him in a bit more, which seemed such a contrast with his massive stature and wings next to your own body.  But he loved feeling tucked in, feeling protected in a way since it was one of the more vulnerable times for him to not be strong and not have his walls up. He was used to being strong all of his life, and when you realized that he craved some moments of being held and being open to protection for himself, it was your mission to provide it for him as much as possible.  

Just like now on the bench.

“What can I do to help?” You asked him softly as he shifted in your hold.

“Stay?  I just….don’t want to be alone right now,” he admitted to you as you grinned and nodded your head, “Wanna tell me about your day?”

“I only did a bunch of boring stuff,” You explained, though you saw Azriel smirking and he squeezed your fingers a bit tighter together.

“I love hearing about your day,” he reminded you, “Please?”

So you did, telling him all the little mundane things that you were doing that day both at the Townhouse and out in town.  Azriel listened, and as time went you felt the tension and stress along his shoulders and under his skin melting away.  There was nothing magical when it came to helping each other heal, no hoops to jump or mountains to climb.  Sometimes, all both you and Azriel needed, was to simply talk and chat with each other. It has helped so many times in the past for you two, letting things be sprawled out on the table and never needing to pick up old wounds again.  

Azriel may have a rough exterior and was grumpy 90 percent of the time, but the 10 percent softness was a gift in itself.  

The End

Grumpy vs. Sunshine Prompt Session

[onaperduamedee]

As a character, Lan is defined by lack of agency.

He was born to be king, but his nation dies out and he becomes the living embodiment of a lost people. New Spring shows that people keep on projecting ambitions on him, expecting him to rebuild Malkier or at least to uphold its culture. To him, the only escape is a futile death in the name of his nation, not even for himself.

Over the course of the books, his character is shown to be rather passive: Moiraine deprives him of his agency by compelling him to live, he is bonded by force to Myrelle, Egwene orders him to go to Nynaeve and Nynaeve herself has to trick him to distract from again dying a futile death in the name of his nation. 

Even his mentoring of Rand is presented by himself as a consequence of Rand's ta'veren pull rather than assertion. Now, this might not be what is actually happening because we see that Lan does disagree with Moiraine's course of actions on other occasions, but that's how he argues in this instance: he's explaining away an attempt to seize agency by saying he in fact wasn't completely in control. According to Lan himself, he is not in control in his own life and he shouldn't be.

So his story is fraught with characters denying his agency. When Nynaeve tricks him, not once but twice, to get him to not die alone in the Blight, with the baggage he has with Moiraine, the fact that it's business as usual for Lan is frustrating for the reader who hoped that at least Nynaeve would be more respectful of his agency. Yet it is consistent for his character to accept that this is how people who care about him (or don't) will treat him because that's what he got with Edeyn, Moiraine, Myrelle, even Bukama to some degree. Obviously, all of these violations do not happen on the same level but these instances are still denial of his agency.

The question as to why he seems to be so accepting of this repeated transgression is not really explored in the books but the reason can be easily inferred: trauma from losing his family and people so young, from being burdened with carrying the memory of a dead nation since infancy (he's described like a memorial more than a person), from embarking on a lifelong rather hopeless journey with Moiraine, from war, naturally. It is what makes him a compelling character, albeit a frustratingly static one.

He changes very little from the beginning to the end of the story, if one considers the beginning to be New Spring. He started the story by wanting to ride into the Blight to die and ended up the story by riding into a fight against Demandred (I have to stop calling him Demi in my head) to die. The tension of his story, for me, is that no matter how much Nynaeve sparks hope in him and even desire for a future, trauma is incredibly strong a pull and will draw him toward seeking death nevertheless. 

There's a sort of nihilism to his character, a death drive, that's consistent with his baggage as a war veteran and trauma victim. It's not far-fetched to read his arc as an exploration of the fact that love (Nynaeve) and duty (toward Malkier and Moiraine) aren't enough to heal and survive on his own.

That's why the culmination of Lan's arc, for me, isn't when he rides to Tarwin Gap or fights Demandred (because it's the same old death drive disguised as abnegation), or even when he dons Malkier's crown (because it has been his responsibility from birth), but when Agelmar calls him selfish: 

« Lan stopped, eyeing the aged general. “Take care, Lord Agelmar. It almost sounds as if you are calling me selfish.”

“I am, Lan,” Agelmar said. “And you are.”

Lan did not flinch.

“You came to throw your life away for Malkier. That, in itself, is noble. However, with the Last Battle upon us, it’s also stupid. We need you. Men will die because of your stubbornness.” »

[...]

« Some men,” Agelmar said, “are destined to die, and they fear it. Others are destined to live, and to lead, and they find it a burden. If you wished to keep fighting here until the last man fell, you could do it, and they’d die singing the glory of the fight. Or, you could do what we both need to do. » - A Memory Of Light, Brandon Sanderson.

Agelmar calls Lan selfish because, like Tenobia, Lan is wriggling out of duty toward his people by seeking a heroic death, but Agelmar is mainly challenging the notion Lan has been touting as his mantra for decades: "Death is lighter than a feather, Duty heavier than a mountain".

What Agelmar is implying is that Lan has been misinterpreting this saying to justify evading his responsibilities. Agelmar refers to his responsibility toward Malkier and the world as his duty; Lan sees his long pursuit of death (for Malkier in the Blight, for the DR with Moiraine) as his duty. Dying for the cause was the goal - in his mind it is what he can offer and what Agelmar is pointing out. It's less about being selfish and more about Lan being self-destructive. His war against the shadow is a war against himself.

It isn't exactly a revelation for him because although Lan is shaken by Agelmar's words he later rides into battle to die at the hands of Demandred, with Agelmar and all the other generals out of commission. 

What is interesting narratiely is that at this point Lan gets exactly what he wants: at last no one is stopping him to ride and die into battle. He gets to be only a man, not the herald of a dead nation, a man who can die at that. Yet, death denies him and he survives, somehow.

We don't know exactly why and how he survives the death blows Demandred deals to him. It could be that the Wheel needed him alive so he survived when so many died (in New Spring, Lan is a target for the shadow because he is suspiciously lucky), it could be that Demandred was just a man himself after all and Rand's sealing the DO (with Moiraine and Nynaeve) happened just in the nick of time for Demandred to be stopped from re-ascending to more.

The narrative treats the why as of no importance: Lan is forced to live, yet again, except by the Wheel itself. The natural follow-up is that he will live, he will reclaim Malkier, he will grow old with Nynaeve. His crowning moment with Nynaeve at his side is presented at the end as a fait accompli, as the obvious next step in his survival.

But I cannot help finding this conclusion to his arc inordinately sad. He didn't choose life. He didn't choose Malkier. He chose Nynaeve but tragically it wasn't enough to get him to choose living: it isn't before the very end that he sees Nynaeve as more than a widow. And even then, there's a discrepancy between his thoughts and actions: he can envision a future with her, yet he doesn't make the decisions that could spare him.

One could argue that he chose future by giving the Aes Sedai a chance of success in going against Demandred, but fighting Demandred IS a senseless and desperate decision only leading to death because it's how Gawyn and Galad's fight against him is described as. Lan went in expecting to die, knowing he would deprive his people of a leader and Nynaeve of a husband and warder (just as Gawyn dying right in the middle of battle is a selfish act in regards to Egwene, Lan doing the same to Nynaeve is just as selfish). He chose death, again and again, and it was denied him. 

When I think of Lan, I cannot help going back to Verlaine's famous poem about Kaspar Hauser, here translated by Peter Low (https://www.lieder.net/lieder/get_text.html?TextId=136604)

I came, a calm orphan,

with no wealth but my peaceful eyes,

among the men of the cities:

they did not find me clever.

At age twenty a new turmoil

- it is known as amorous flames -

made me find women beautiful:

they did not find me handsome.

Though lacking a homeland or king

and not being very brave,

I wanted to go to war and die:

death didn't want me.

Was I born too early or too late?

What am I doing in this world?

Listen, all of you, I am in deep sorrow:

say a prayer for poor Gaspard.

I see little triumph in him surviving the Last Battle as he remained passive to the very end, carried by the Wheel and what it had planned for him, relentlessly pushed to seeking death and clinging whatever reason he could muster to justify to himself dying nobly (Malkier, Moiraine, the Dragon, etc...). He's fundamentally adrift long before meeting Moiraine and the journey to Merrilor did nothing to ground him.

More than the technicalities of rebuilding a nation that's been buried for 40 years, I'm fascinated by what life, a simple, quiet life with his wife and friends, would do to a man like Lan: he spent his life replacing one reason to die with another and although Nynaeve and a nation to rebuild can be a reason to live it wasn't enough before the Last Battle, which left him probably more traumatised. 

What does life look like to Lan? Is he prepared to experience it and more importantly to be an actor in it rather than an object? I'm not sure the books could have provided an answer because veteran's mental health is a delicate matter and the therapy Ajah isn't really a thing in the books but the conclusion of his arc on his surviving as a punishment almost is worth interrogating.

[sunset-sprinkles]

Love next door , EP 2

"Always knew what love means-" is what rings in my mind when I see through all of Seung-hyo's action. There's a gleam of love in his eyes in all the moments he looks at her and the reason no one around him probably gets it - because oh bickering is their love language. And you wouldn't know people fighting for each other's lives would actually be falling in love with eachother but also it's most likely they would.

"Hate - 미움" is how the episode is titled and you think why it is? It's because what seems like hate is actually love that has been trampled by situations.

"Hate has its own satellites. Your high expectations, your faith and fondness for a certain person are all interconnected. But when any of these elements leave their orbit or retrograde it can turn into hate" ~Seung-hyo

It was about mending relationships showing the light how there's a thin line between hate and love - why they are the strongest emotions we feel towards anyone.

We all get Mi-sook's trauma right? She hasn't been the best but it's all response to a societal baggage she has been carrying around. "What if I haven't done enough for myself - my daughter will do it !!" - this is where asian mothers fall weak it's to understand your expectations shouldn't turn into a baggage for your child to the limit they fail to express what concerns them. All Seokryu ever wanted from her mother was to stand by her side when she needed the most - as children would look upto their parents to love them the way they are and not hold them as a trophy of achievement or as the compensation of what they themselves couldn't achieve.

While Seung-hyo's emotions are a bit more transparent to us -Seokryu's are not. And in my eyes she has been holding onto a lot more emotions we can't see through - because there is a complexity in her character that comes out as bossy and chaotic but is vulnerable and over burdened with expectations and responsibilities. And you know who knows her the best right!!!!

Though I feel Seung-hyo is an equally hidden and complex character when it's comes to his own emotions but transparent only when it comes to be with her [ofcourse].

Something healed in all of us when he said : "Don't force yourself to laugh when you want to cry". It's something we all want to hear when we are breaking down and still trying to smile through, for what ? Just so people don't see how weak we are , how much we want to cry and hold onto someone. Showing emotions do not make you weak specially to the people who care about you!!

Seung-hyo knew when he had to be by her side - so effortless and comforting. Isn't that the base of childhood friendships- someone who can see through what you feel and brings you to a position where you actually freely express what you are going through.

Umbrella - sometimes symbolised love and sometimes the shield. He let go off her shield and let her get drenched in the rain - let her cry out all she has been holding out , pouring down along with the rain all the emotions she had been hiding in the facade of a smile.

"WHEN YOU KNOW YOU KNOW"- we all know , we all can recall that smile he gave when he got to know she wasn't getting married . We know when he followed her to the park to make her feel better- we know when he brought one umbrella to share , when he closed it to let her cry out, when he rearranged her room like it used to be , when he put the stars she loved on the ceiling, when he shifted close to her just to be by her side. Only two episodes out and I think this episode is already my favorite!!

I don't know if it meant that there's only a thin line between hate and love and therefore it does take only one moment to change it. But I do feel it also meant the things changing between them , between those two windows- between those two friends- it's crazily well shown ���️‍🩹😭

And here comes my favourite scene with these lines playing in my mind -" If you could see that I am the one who understands you, been here all the time so why can't you see it, you belong with mee...yeah!!"

In my concluding lines, we all feel that why does Seukryu not get what he means , why doesn't she see the same thing we are seeing. But let me tell you SHE DOES! She does see it , she does care for it- but for the complexity and baggage she carries maybe this resides in her subconscious self only and it will take time for her to realise it. To all the times he looked for her , she looked out for him too- she asked him too if he was doing okay.. all because she wanted him to be part of everything she did then and now .