#theme: i have no choice but to live with this

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XI)

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Hi! Here is another chapter! On the menu today: a dinner with Sam and Frank… I’ll let you guess how well this will go… (I hope my choice for Andrew's pic for this chapter gives you a clue...)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2933

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Hesitate to call

Lived to see you throwing Me aside. That fought Like nettled fish inside me. Saw you throbbing In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see That all that all flushed down The refuse. Done? It lives in me. You live in me. Malignant. Love, you ever want me, don’t.

Louise Glück, The First Five Books of Poems

Andrew checked his appearance in the mirror for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

He was nervous beyond reason, after all he was heading to a restaurant to see Sam. And after a long-term relationship, he shouldn’t have felt so troubled by it. But things were different now, things were… complicated, to say the least.

Still, he heaved a sigh, checked his appearance once more. He had let his hair loose, had put on contacts, was wearing a black shirt and some dark jeans. He looked tired, exhausted even. Work was a lot at the moment, he had a thousand things to do. He still struggled to sleep, was still tortured with thoughts and dreams of Sam, of her leaving, of her loving someone else.

November was ending, and with it, the remnants of Andrew’s and Sam’s plans. Plans…

A weekend in Kerry in September. Saimhan with friends. Now, Andrew should be packing. He should be choosing clothes, not for an evening in a restaurant, but for a weekend in Glasgow. A flight late at night leaving from Dublin, another one during the night between Sunday and Monday. And in between, a couple of days just for them, spent eating, visiting museums, seeing the sights, walking around the town. A night in a hotel, one she had chosen, spent on filling their hearts with love and their bodies with lust and desire.

He looked at his reflection again, stared right into his own hazel eyes. They were greener than usual, probably because wearing contacts made his eyes water. He would have been more comfortable with glasses, more relaxed as well, more himself, in a way.

He blinked tears away as a thought crossed his mind, a painful one he wished he could have kept at bay, but he didn’t have the strength for that. Beating himself up was a habit, since childhood. There were thoughts sometimes that formed in his mind that brought him pain, but he listened anyway. Sometimes they were quiet, sometimes they were deafening. These days they were loud and clear.

He went to get his coat, grab his car keys, get ready to leave. He petted Elwood, told him to be a good boy, that he would soon be home. The thought followed him outside his home.

Being himself was never enough for Sam to love him.

Christ, Sam was so beautiful…

It was breaking his heart that they weren’t on a date. As he entered the restaurant, saw her sitting at a table waiting for him, Andrew was reminded of hundreds of evenings spent like this, going on a date in a restaurant, at the cinema, it didn’t even matter where. At the end, they didn’t go out much anymore. Sam always seemed to be too busy for that. At the time, Andrew thought it was only because of her job. Now, he wondered if maybe she had not already started to give up on them.

But he hadn’t. To this day, he hadn’t given up on them…

He kept on admiring her for a few more seconds, until the rest of the table was revealed to him, and the illusion waned. You were there too, facing Frank. The restaurant was posh, he felt a little uneasy in this atmosphere. He wouldn’t have chosen such a place for a date, but he had no doubt that Sam liked it.

He forced a smile as he approached, was greeted warmly by Frank, the first one who spotted him as he approached. You turned on your chair to greet him with a relieved smile, and his heart made a happy jump at the sight of you. He had an ally tonight, he wasn’t on his own…

“You’re late.”

He turned to Sam, his heart dropping again. Her tone was flat, emotionless, and he knew her enough to be aware that it was worse than annoyance. She was angry. He struggled to swallow.

“Yeah, sorry… Had some stuff to take care of before coming.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing it was a lie. Or well, it wasn’t a lie, but the real reason was simply that Andrew was always late. To everything. He couldn’t do much about it; if left unattended, he simply lost track of time. The alarms he had set up had done little to help him tonight. He didn’t add anything, merely took a seat.

“Ha, no worries!” Frank reassured him, and Andrew could tell that he was nervous and willing to make Andrew feel welcome. As a result, Andrew was highly uncomfortable.

“The food looks… interesting,” you commented, trying to drag the conversation away from Andrew, and he was grateful for it.

“The oysters are particularly good!” Frank recommended.

You said nothing, but Andrew frowned.

You… hadn’t you told him once that you weren’t such a fan of seafood?

Indeed, when you chose what to eat, you didn’t follow Frank’s advice at all.

Conversation drifted towards work, and your respective lives. Catching up or getting to know each other.

And Andrew understood Frank’s appeal tonight, as he watched him lead the conversation. He was louder than Andrew ever was, bright, clearly extraverted, longing for people’s attention. He was funny, charming. And handsome, that too, Andrew couldn’t deny that either. His complete opposite. Average height, muscles that threatened the fabric of his sleeves while he passionately talked about his work and moved his hands around, blond with electric blue eyes.

So… that was what Sam longed for? What had made you fall for him?

Andrew tried not to think this way. There was nothing he could do about his physical appearance, his ridiculous height, his gangly stature… there was no need to torture himself over that. He could show that he took care of Sam though. That he paid attention to her. That he loved her…

Because Frank didn’t seem to care all that much. Andrew saw it as you talked about your work, about how nervous you were as you got ready to give your students their first test of the year. And if Andrew was intently listening, Frank was clearly uninterested. He drew the conversation away from your job as soon as he could, offering encouraging words, and quickly moving on. You smiled, but you weren’t fooled. Andrew saw it in the way your gaze saddened, in the way the excitement that had been glimmering there died out instantly. His heart ached at the sight. And when Frank spoke again, Andrew didn’t care.

“Will you set a limit for the length required for the essay?”

Frank grew quiet, frowned. You turned to Andrew, clearly surprised by his question.

“Erm… I haven’t decided yet. I usually don’t.”

“Once a student gave me a twenty-pages long essay…”

“Twenty pages?!”

“Yeah… she was thorough, for sure.”

“Did you read the whole thing?”

“Of course. And now I set a limited word count.”

You chuckled, nodded.

“Maybe I should do that. What about your class about Yeats? Have you decided on a subject for an essay?”

“I’m still hesitating… I want to prepare one about Yeats’s involvement in the Irish Literary Revival… but I could choose one of his love poems about Maud Gonne too.”

You chuckled.

“Why do I feel like they’ll hear a lot about No Second Troy…”

“I love that poem.”

“Anyone who speaks of literature with you for more than ten minutes knows that,” you teased. “It’s a short poem to study, though.”

“Yeah… but that means they would really have to work on each line, instead of simply skipping whatever element they struggle with.”

“True.”

“I feel like it would be easier for them to work on the more political side of Yeats’s work during exam season. The material is easier, and we’ll go thoroughly through the most important aspects of these texts in class. So… I think I’ll ask them to work on love poems at home.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

You exchanged a smile. When Andrew looked up at Frank and Sam, they had stopped listening and were both eating their meal in silence. Sam was looking at something on her phone, a habit she had developed in the past couple of years.

She hadn’t asked him about his job. She hadn’t asked him if he wrote, how he felt, if he was suffering because of her. Perhaps she didn’t want to hear his answers. Perhaps she didn’t really care. Andrew was starting to have doubts. The more the evening was progressing, the more he realised that she didn’t seem to care. Sam and Andrew had spent years together, but she wasn’t listening as he spoke of his work, of the things he loved most on Earth.

Did she even care at all about him anymore? She used to listen to him talk about music and poetry for hours, back when they were students…

Or did she? She had never liked his own writing, but he thought she listened when he spoke of what he loved, still. She didn’t seem willing to make an effort these days… but then again, they weren’t together anymore. So, why would she?

“I’ve listened to your record, by the way!”

Andrew blinked, looked at you again.

“What?”

“Duke Ellington and John Coltrane. I’ve listened to it.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Did you? Really?”

You nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

“Of course! I’m going to sound very basic, I think In a Sentimental Mood was my favourite… although I really loved My Little Brown Book too.”

His mouth broke into a bright grin.

“Grand! Like… that’s grand! I’m glad you liked it.”

Frank stared at you for a moment.

“Who are you talking about?” he asked, trying to slither in the conversation.

“Andy recommended me some music! I have a whole list at this point,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow and making him chuckle and blush.

“It’s Jazz,” Andrew explained. “Some of the greatest, honestly.”

Sam heaved a sigh, still focused on her screen.

“Oh… nice,” Frank nodded, although he didn’t sound convincing at all.

“I really liked it a lot,” you went on. “I don’t really have the vocabulary to describe it, like… on a technical point of view, you know? But I liked it. It was very… like… drawing me in, in a way. There was tension, and then once I was trapped in the song, there was so much emotion there… And it’s unusual for me to be so focused when listening to instrumental music. I have a busy brain, I get distracted easily.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I have a busy brain too… but that’s what Blues and Jazz do to me. They kind of… shush my brain. Make it go quiet.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“You like music, then, Andy?”

Andrew looked at Frank again, wanted to correct him and ask to be called Andrew… but he didn’t want to seem rude. He didn’t like it, though, how he used his nickname.

“Yeah, a lot.”

“Andy wanted to be a musician, back in the days,” Sam intervened, putting her phone down again.

“Really? What instrument do you play?”

“I sing, mostly… play guitar too.”

“But you didn’t make a career out of it? Not that it’s surprising, it’s a tough field to work in. Most people can’t make a living out of it. Like… there’s so much competition, so few who actually get to make it. It must be a tough life.”

“A few of his friends made it though, and he had the talent for it,” Sam went on. “But Andy is not one to compromise easily.”

Andrew stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged.

“You could have had a record deal, had you accepted to change a few things about your songs.”

Andrew huffed, he could barely believe his ears…

“There was never an opportunity for me to record my own songs, and you know that. I didn’t want to sing those… attempts at pop hits that felt soulless to me.”

“And you didn’t get a record deal.”

“I didn’t want that kind of deal. I wanted to record the songs I had written.”

She didn’t say a thing, but her thoughts were loud enough for Andrew to guess them.

And then you didn’t record any of those either.

“Why are you saying all that like you’re resenting me?” Andrew asked, and Sam shook her head.

“I don’t resent you, of course! It was your choice.”

“You do sound like it though…”

“I’m just pointing out that you’re not the kind of guy who compromises much.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow and huffed again.

“You’re one to talk…” he mumbled.

Andrew spent his time compromising. Had he not compromised when he wanted to take a job in London and had settled for Dublin instead because she didn’t want to move there? When she refused to move in with him and asked for more time to find herself? When she chose most of their topics of conversations? When he barely talked about his work?

He let out a long exhale, took a bite of the overpriced fish he had ordered. He didn’t even like the food…

Sam spoke again, about some stupid tv reality she had been watching with Frank, and you listened even though you hadn’t seen it. Meanwhile, Andrew wanted to talk about music with you again. He wanted to ask you about Duke Ellington, he wanted to ask you what songs you liked, he wanted to listen to you ramble about how music made you feel. Your thoughts were always interesting, he could have talked with you for hours… and sometimes he did.

But he shook himself. He wanted Sam. He wanted to have Sam back, and nobody was perfect. There were some things in Sam that annoyed him or disappointed him or that he didn’t understand but at the end of the day she was Sam, and that was enough for him.

He was quieter throughout the rest of the evening, trying to do some damage control over the couple of tensed moments that had occurred during the night.

But then the conversation settled on the wedding itself, and things turned ill all over again…

“And we need to settle on a cake too! Christ, everything is complicated when you’re planning a wedding!” Sam laughed, while Andrew was tightly closing his fists under the table, until his nails drew crescent marks into his palms, while you looked away in a hurry.

“You know… I thought we could choose a strawberry cake,” Frank said. “It’s a classic, most people like those…”

“Sam is allergic to strawberries,” Andrew answered without thinking.

An uncomfortable silence settled across the table.

“Oh… you didn’t tell me that, babe,” Frank told Sam, who frowned.

Clearly, she had told him before, but she said nothing.

“Well, we’ll choose something else!” Frank shrugged.

“What about your career, then?” you asked your ex, staring intensely at him.

“My career?”

“You… you used to say that you wanted to wait to get married because you needed to focus on your career.”

Slowly, Frank nodded.

“Yeah… that’s true. I used to want that. But… it’s different with Sam.”

Andrew saw the pain that shot across your features. There was so much anger that ran through his veins then…

“Right,” you nodded.

“Like… my work seemed the most important, but now… not anymore. Or… not in the same way. So, why wait?”

“Why wait, indeed…” you slowly nodded while Frank and Sam exchanged a tender gaze, one that made Andrew nauseous.

He looked down at the piece of cheesecake he had barely touched, decided not to eat it. He couldn’t get anything more down…

The meal ended in a quiet mood, with conversations spent mostly between Sam and Frank, but the couple seemed satisfied with this situation. When they disappeared in a cab together, Andrew felt emptier than ever. A shell without a pulse or any other semblance of life…

“Andy?”

He turned around to look at you standing behind him in the street, right before the restaurant. Your frame was illuminated by both the white light coming from the restaurant’s sign and the orange hues of the streetlights.

He caught himself thinking that you were beautiful, had to push the thought away. But you were. You had dressed up tonight, undoubtedly to impress Frank, just like Andrew had tried to impress Sam with his careful choice of outfit. And Andrew was impressed, at any rate. You were gorgeous…

You offered him a humourless smile.

“Tonight was… a lot, right?”

He nodded, letting out a long exhale through his nose.

“You can say that…”

“I can’t say that it went… incredibly well.”

“No… it was… strange.”

“Let’s put it that way, yeah.”

“I’m not sure it helped us make any progress.”

“I’m not so sure either. On the contrary. But we tried, at least.”

Andrew nodded, looked at you as you heaved a sigh.

“You know what I want right now?”

He shook his head, tilting his head to the side as he waited for you to speak again, his hands now buried in his pockets.

“I really… really… want to get drunk. Like… hammered. Properly destroyed.”

Andrew exploded with laughter.

“You know what… sign me up! Getting very drunk sounds nice!”

“Let’s go to my place. I don’t want to be surrounded by people anymore,” you offered, and Andrew easily accepted.

As he followed you throughout the street, he reckoned that at least one thing in this evening could be pleasant, after all.

[lurkingshan]

Shan, have you seen this answer of P'Aof to the question "If you could go back, would you have let Day stay blind?" https://x(dot)com/Itsjuzm3/status/1836817566398042506 He talked about MhokDay breakup in ep.11 too. https://x(dot)com/Itsjuzm3/status/1836848070639640725

Any thoughts?

Woof, did not expect this to come back around, and these responses don’t really shift my perspective. The first answer is rooted in casual ableism (he seems to believe the only legitimate hope is to have Day’s eyesight restored, and if they showed him getting his happy ending while blind that would necessarily be a story about him overcoming not being “perfect”), and the second is making the case that Day was doing a form of noble idiocy with the breakup, which 1) wasn’t really how it was depicted on screen and 2) is also disrespectful of Mhok and still leaves their relationship hopelessly unbalanced. Noble idiocy is cruel, and when Mhok returned Day still did not make amends for the way he abandoned him and instead forced Mhok to pursue him again. It was selfish and awful whether you buy into this interpretation or not.

On top of all that, I question his assertion that the core theme of the show was “hope” as defined by Day getting his sight back. If that is what he truly intended, I don’t think that came across well for the majority of the show. The narrative for the first nine episodes was far more rooted in Day’s struggles to accept his disability, overcome family trauma, and let Mhok in as a trusted loved one; NOT in a focus on getting his sight back at all costs. To be perfectly honest, it sounds like something Aof invented as a justification for this ending. The quiet part he’s not saying out loud is they wanted dramatic happenings at the end of the show to create tension. It does seem that people in the room fought him on these choices, but this is what he ultimately decided to do.

I still believe what I did back when this show was airing: if you’re going to make a show about a marginalized experience that you have not lived and don’t really understand, you need to pay attention to the messages you are sending with that work and approach it with care and humility. Nothing in this response makes me think he has truly understood why those choices were offensive to so many people, or why it wasn’t just the fact of Day’s restored vision, but the way the show (and he in this interview) frames it to imply a happy ending where Day is still blind could not support the theme of hope.

[spacedlexi]

So I was rewatching berleezy's twd s4 and someone in the comments said it was interesting that Clementine (determinately) can believe there's no life inside of walkers when her parents were found together and they were assumably walkers for those 6 months she and lee were together. Meaning they could've wandered off and separated but they were found together after all that time. (It's more than likely for plot but it's still an interesting point) Thoughts on that? Also any headcanons on her parents? (Or art 🥺👉🏾👈🏾) have you watched berleezy's playthrough???

well walker tenn still does the hand thing. and you could apply that idea to clems parents still standing together after all that time. maybe some deep part of them compels them to move that way, to stay close to those people. what made them Them is still in there somewhere even if theyre gone. its something S4 Wants you to think about. is there really Nothing left of who they were once theyve turned? i think there is. on some level. the person may be gone, but some part of them still remains

i like that since they do the "humans are the real monsters" thing that every zombie thing does (which ultimately i feel is what zombie media is About (plus our capacity for love and community. great love and great evil)) they leaned into that idea of well if the zombies arent the real monsters then what are they? theyre just their own thing. any creature just trying to survive, even if theyre dangerous. once they were a person who lived a life and had people who loved them. and now theyre This. i joke when i call james the neighborhood cat lady but like... yeah. S4 is very explicitly about what makes someone a "monster". willing to do evil things (or willing to stop doing them) and at what point there is no return, and when you have to let go of them. but does that not also apply to the walkers? there is no return for them either, and you still have to let go (or die with them), no matter how much of who they were is still in there somewhere

S4 is very philosophical about its themes and wants You to come to a conclusion on the ideas its presenting to you. it Is a choice game after all. i do believe walkers are walkers. but that doesnt mean there isnt still a part of who they were in there somewhere. both can be true

and yes i watched berleezy cuz he was the only one i could find who actually liked vi and her romance 😭 (and who didnt not save her/get her killed). so many people were so apathetic or weird with her while still choosing to romance her i couldnt take it anymore WHERE IS THE ENERGY?? his reaction to vi shooting minnie is the reaction you Should be having in that scene. thats how i get every time i see it 😩

[idliketobeatree]

dead boy detectives characters as art objects and sculptures; extended ---

hello, i remembered i made some subjective explanations and notes on few of my choices for this post, and i thought some folks might enjoy it. soo let's get into it.

1.

monty finch

author: anders krisár

pretty self-explanatory; it's a moulded male torso with visible inprints on its skin.

anders krisár’ artistry explores the themes of loss, separation, and the condition of the psyche through the lens of a human body in duality: perfectionism meets unsettlement, skin meets marble and bronze and polyester, to create sculptures spanning geological time far beyond the living's capabilities.

monty's creation by esther was already stripped of any human agency. "he was made a boy, not a person", small, almost doll-sized, with a singular purpose: to seduce and entice the chosen dead boy into their doom. the naked skin and specifically the position of its arms are mildly erotic, but in a way that makes your skin crawl. the imprints are intimate, placed possesive; notice the thumbs digging close to especially sensitive areas like nipples and the belly button.

the latter seems to connect the "creator" to the subject, the navel here as a symbol of cruel, invasive motherhood. the fact that the torso is cut off in the middle and at the neck furthers the uncanny valley feeling of a young male body, but then again. this is a realistic portrayal. so was it ever a person? what does it have inside to make dents so profound? how deep you can press until it breaks?

--- i'm leaving out crystal and edwin (for now?), but @nicheoverhere brilliantly noticed that it was the same author for both. that was intentional! because glen martin taylor is all about taking kintsugi, which is a beautiful art form of repairing fine china and generally delicate things with veins of precious metals, but with materials like— nails. scissors. barbed wire. all ugly. the repair after a great shattering is seldom pretty after all, they really are similar in this regard. ---

2.

charles rowland

author: robert hudson

okay, strap in. this funky dreamy world belongs to robert hudson, and i picked it for charles rowland because it's all first impressions. the colours? the composition? they give you the 80s vibes, almost; like something a kid would design if you asked them what a time machine would look like. it could probably move in several ways. the pieces seem mismatched, but hold themselves together surprisingly well. or maybe you underestimate it?

it's neither big nor small. you can't tell its size at all. it's a bit overwhelming to look at, at first, and at second, and after a while, but it carries that comfortable familiarity and nostalgia for— well, nothing in particular, because the longer you look, the sadder its past seems. the bold pops of contrasting colour are fighting for your attention. they want you to like it! and yet, the major material seems to be just. rusted steel. made from tools.

and look at that botched up sphere, it wants so badly to be a perfect sphere and it knows it'll never be one. fine!! perhaps it could be a football ball instead! or maybe a head. if you close your eyes, that is. and this facing-up horseshoe? a lucky charm, made to collect good luck and keep it from falling out cause god, it needs it.

---

3.

niko sasaki

author: justin cloud

---

niko sasaki, now how do i describe her? let's start by saying— she's cleary a her. this one is a she. and there's something to be said about blooming, and femininity, and delicacy, because pink is a hopeful girly colour and a surprise and a delight.

what are you doing in a gallery, little flower, shouldn't you be at home? in a field? look how pretty you are! mind you, of course there's something wrong with her as well, but you're not sure if that is because someone messed it up, or because of a different entity alltogether. was it always half-electric? its elegance seems purposeful— the iridescent metal fits all too well with the white-pink petals— but also uncanny. and oh suddenly you can't stop looking at the stigma from which a pollen should release aaany time now.

when i look at her, at her black artificial stem and the small leaves imitating the real ones, i wonder if she doesn't want to lure me into a trap. is it her fault?

the beautiful petals seem like the only thing left real of the flower. whichever way she turns, it will probably mean— death. and flowers are ephemeral. what is a flower mounted to a wall, fortified with steel, connected with cables and enfused with electrical energy, then?

i think she's a self-preserving survivor. ---

4.

the night nurse

author: elizabeth turk

---

now. the night nurse.

of course it's the only piece in the collection where the background needed to be dark. no one here is older than her. there is no inoffensive, fading-into-background white for this absolute pillar of truth. or maybe something like a totem, quite protective in nature. and it's terrifying, 'cause you're immediately hit with the feeling that you're looking at something out of this realm, something you're not supposed to witness. the perspective is all wrong. is it downwards or upwards? why does it seem unstable when the pieces are so perfectly centered and seemingly well-balanced? child, you should calm down, it's not like you will destroy it with a stronger puff of air. will you?

this sculpture is called "tipping point — echoes of extinction", and it's actually a mix of technology and sculpture and sound, with elegant visualizations of the lost voices of birds and sea mammals. the author said it "was conceived in reverence to the astounding lives the species which envelop humans have lived and the mysterious ways they have contributed to our well-being. the shadows of their memory, whether a shape or a sound, have inspired this project." so the piece deals with death. moreover, it deals with murder. it records the harsh reality and makes sure the ones that suffered horribly at the hands of humans are, in a way, celebrated. but also— categorised. like epitaphs. the birdsong, once a living sign, is only visually represented by the lines of varying lenghts in 3D, and you can do nothing about it anymore, right, you can't bring back the dead, you can't help the innocent dying in any way other than— stacking them on top of each other and moving on.

---

so that's for now, i might someday write more if anyone's curious. :")

[austinswife]

ALWAYS YOUR SECOND CHOICE - ‘Buck’ Cleven

PART 01 || 02

SYNOPSIS — After walking away from Gale “Buck” Cleven, leaving behind the love you thought you had, Buck is sent on another mission during the war. Though you thought your relationship was over, a letter from Buck arrives before his departure, forcing you to confront the unresolved emotions and the difficult choices you’ve made.

WARNING(S) — Themes of heartbreak, regret, and unresolved tension, emotional turmoil, reflection, potential reconciliation or heartbreak.

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION — TO AUSTINSWIFE

The days had dragged by since you walked away from Buck, the man you thought you would spend your life with. You had never imagined your relationship would come to this—a painful, confusing ending that left you questioning whether it had ever been real at all. The ache in your chest was constant, a dull pain that never fully went away, no matter how hard you tried to push it down.

It had taken every ounce of strength you had to leave him, to walk out the door and force yourself to believe that you deserved better, even if your heart hadn’t fully accepted it. You had convinced yourself that you were doing the right thing, that staying would only mean more heartbreak. But now that he was gone—off to war, with no guarantee that he would return—the uncertainty felt suffocating.

Every day, you found yourself wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was safe. If he was thinking about you the way you were thinking about him. But you tried to push those thoughts aside. You had made your choice, and you had to stick to it. There was no point in holding on to false hope, not when the pain still ran so deep.

One morning, as you were finishing up chores on the farm, the mail truck arrived. You didn’t think much of it until you saw the letter, your name scrawled across the front in Buck’s familiar handwriting.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared down at the envelope, your hands shaking as you carefully tore it open. For a moment, you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to read it. What could he possibly have to say after everything that had happened? But curiosity—and the unresolved feelings you still harbored—won out.

You unfolded the letter, the familiar weight of his words pressing down on you as you began to read.

Y/N,

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone on another mission. I don’t know how much time I have left to write, but there are things I need to say—things I didn’t say when you stood in front of me, tears in your eyes, asking me to choose you.

I know I hurt you. I know I’ve let you down in ways I can’t even begin to explain, and I don’t blame you for leaving. You’re right—I haven’t made you feel like my first choice, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry.

When I was with you, everything was easy. You never asked for anything more than what I could give. But that’s what makes it worse, doesn’t it? You deserved so much more, and I failed to give it to you.

I don’t know how to fix what I broke, and the truth is, maybe I can’t. You told me that you wouldn’t be waiting for me when I came back, and I understand. You deserve more than the man I’ve been. But I need you to know something, Y/N. I need you to know the truth.

I love you.

Maybe I didn’t show it right, maybe I didn’t say it enough, but I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than her. And I know what you’re thinking—why didn’t I prove it? Why did I always run to her?

I don’t have the answers that will make this right. The only thing I can say is that I’ve been a fool. I was trying to hold onto the past because it felt like something I needed to protect. But the more I held onto her, the more I realized I was losing the one thing I couldn’t live without—you.

I’ve been selfish, and I didn’t see it until it was too late. I know I may not get the chance to make this right. I don’t know what’s waiting for me out there, but I didn’t want to leave without telling you this.

If I don’t come back, I need you to know that I never stopped thinking about you. About us. About what we could’ve been if I hadn’t been such a coward.

I wish I could be there with you right now, telling you all of this face-to-face, begging for your forgiveness, but I can’t. I just hope that when this war is over, and if I’m lucky enough to come home, there’s still a chance. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s broken.

If I come back, I want to try to be the man you deserve.

But if this is the last letter you ever get from me, then I want you to know that you were the love of my life, Y/N. Always. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.

Be safe. Live your life fully, even if I’m not there to see it. You deserve that and so much more.

Yours always, Buck

You stared at the letter in your hands, Buck’s words blurring as tears welled in your eyes. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to say the things you had been so desperate to hear when you were still together. The apology, the confession of love—it was all there, written on the page like a final plea for your forgiveness.

But what hurt the most was knowing that he had only come to these realizations after you had left, after it was too late. After you had walked out that door, heartbroken and certain that you could never come back from the betrayal.

Your thoughts drifted back to that day, the moment when you had finally confronted him. You had stood there, spilling your heart out, telling him how much it hurt to feel like a second choice. You had reminded him about the time you were in the hospital—how sick you had been, how scared. You had asked him to come, needed him by your side more than ever, but he couldn’t.

You understood that he couldn’t leave the base. You had accepted that… until Marge called. She had needed him, and without a second thought, he dropped everything and ran to her. That had been the breaking point—the moment when you realized you couldn’t keep being the one left behind.

"It hurt so much, Buck. Too much for me to handle. I don’t even know if I’ll ever heal from this, because the more I love you, the more it hurts."

You had said those words through tears, your heart breaking even as you spoke them. And now, here you were again, crying over the same man, the same wounds.

But his letter… it was different. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was something. It was the truth, finally. He had admitted to everything you’d been afraid of, and while that should have made it easier, it only made it more complicated.

Because despite everything, you still loved him. No matter how much he had hurt you, no matter how much you told yourself that you were done, you couldn’t stop loving him. You couldn’t turn off that part of your heart, no matter how hard you tried.

Buck had said he didn’t know if he’d come back. The thought of him not returning from the war sent a wave of panic through you, an emptiness settling in your chest. What if this was the last letter you ever got from him? What if he never came home?

You couldn’t shake the feeling of dread, the uncertainty of war hanging over both of your heads. But there was something else there too—a small, fragile flicker of hope. He had said that if he came back, he wanted to try. He wanted to be the man you deserved.

But could you give him that chance? Could you let yourself hope for a future where things would be different, where you wouldn’t always feel like second best? Or would the wounds run too deep to ever fully heal?

You didn’t have the answers. Not yet. All you had was the letter, and the words he had written—I love you. More than her.—echoing in your mind.

For now, all you could do was hope he came back safe. Hope that maybe, one day, you could have the conversation you had both been too afraid to have. And maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to rebuild what had been broken.

But for now, you would wait. Not for him, but for clarity. For a future where you could make the choice that was right for you.

It had been weeks since Buck’s last letter—weeks that felt like an eternity, stretched taut with fear and uncertainty. Every day that passed without word from him made your heart ache, the silence becoming more unbearable than anything you could’ve imagined.

The last letter from him had left you reeling. It had been filled with apologies, admissions of his failures, and confessions of love, all wrapped up in the kind of raw vulnerability you hadn’t seen from Buck in the months leading up to your breakup. And now, there was nothing but empty space where his words should’ve been.

You had told yourself you were done with him. That after everything—the constant running to her, the feeling of being second best, the hurt that had built up like a wall between you—there was no going back. You had told yourself that walking away was the right decision. But your heart… your heart didn’t seem to care.

It had been weeks of trying to distract yourself, of throwing yourself into the farm work, keeping busy, and pretending that you weren’t waiting for him. But every time you saw the mail truck drive by, your heart would skip a beat. Every time you saw the sky, clear and blue, you’d think of him up there, flying, and you’d wonder—where was he? Was he safe? Was he thinking of you?

And then, one cold afternoon, just as the sky was turning gray with winter clouds, the letter came.

You hadn’t expected it—weren’t even sure you could handle it—but when you saw the envelope with his name scrawled across it in that familiar handwriting, something inside you twisted. This wasn’t like the other letters. The paper was worn, dirt-smudged at the corners. The handwriting was different—uneven, hurried.

Your hands trembled as you tore it open, your stomach churning with both fear and hope. The moment you read the first line, your breath caught in your throat, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

Y/N,

I don’t know how this letter will reach you, but I hope to God it does. I’m writing from a German POW camp. My plane was shot down on our last mission, and I’ve been captured. There’s no easy way to say this, and I hate to think of you reading this, worrying about me even more than you probably already do.

I’m not hurt, not really, just tired. Tired in a way I can’t explain. But I’m alive, and that’s something, right?

I think about you every single day. Even more so now that I’m here, in a place where everything seems so far away and unreal. But you—you’re always with me. I still have your picture, the one you gave me before everything went wrong. I keep it tucked in my left jacket pocket, right over my heart. I put it there the day you left, and it hasn’t moved since.

There are nights when I pull it out and just stare at it, thinking of you, wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to see you again. I remember how it felt to hold you, how you laughed, how you’d roll your eyes at my stupid jokes. It’s what keeps me going, even here, even now.

I know you might still be angry. Hell, I’m still angry at myself. I keep thinking about what I did, about how I didn’t deserve the love you gave me. But it’s all I have now—your love. Even if you don’t forgive me, even if I never get to fix what I broke, I want you to know that carrying your love with me is the only thing getting me through this.

I’m not asking for forgiveness in this letter. I’m not asking for anything, really. I just wanted you to know that if I make it out of here alive, it’s because of you. I’m still fighting to come home to you.

I love you, Y/N. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say.

Yours always, Buck

The letter fell from your hands as you pressed your palm to your mouth, tears filling your eyes as you let the words sink in. He was alive. He was still out there, somewhere, thinking of you, carrying your picture in his jacket—next to his heart.

He had been shot down. Captured.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear coursing through your veins as you tried to imagine what he must be going through. A Prisoner Of War camp. The thought alone sent chills through you. You didn’t know what conditions he was in, how dangerous it was, how much time he had left. But he was alive. And that was something.

But more than that… he still loved you.

I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say.

You stared down at the letter, reading and rereading those words, your chest tight with emotion. All this time, you had tried to convince yourself that you were done, that you had moved on, that walking away from him was the right choice. But deep down, you knew the truth.

You hadn’t stopped loving him.

Buck’s words brought back memories—memories of the man you fell in love with before everything became so complicated. The man who made you laugh, who held you when the world felt too heavy. The man who could make you feel like you were the only person that mattered, even when everything else was falling apart.

But those memories were tangled up with the hurt, the betrayal, the constant running to her. You had wanted to be his first choice, but it had always felt like you were second. Even now, those wounds hadn’t healed. You didn’t know if they ever would.

But in this moment, none of that seemed to matter. All that mattered was that Buck was still out there, still fighting to come home. And if he was still fighting… maybe you could too.

You had never written him back after leaving, but now, for the first time since you’d walked away, you felt ready to speak. You pulled out a piece of paper and sat at the small wooden table, the pen feeling heavy in your hand as you began to write the first letter since you had said goodbye.

Buck,

I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sitting here, rereading your letter, and all I can think is, thank God you’re alive. Thank God you’re okay. I’ve been so afraid, Buck. I’ve been terrified that I’d never hear from you again, that I’d never get the chance to say what’s been in my heart since I left.

It’s hard for me to put into words how I’ve felt these past few months. You hurt me in ways I didn’t think were possible, and I won’t pretend that those scars have healed. But reading your letter, knowing that you still carry my picture with you, knowing that you’re fighting to come home to me… it’s brought everything into perspective.

I still love you, Buck. I never stopped, not even after I walked away. It hurt so much because I loved you so much. And that love hasn’t gone away. I can’t deny it anymore.

When you told me you were running to her because she needed you, it felt like a betrayal. Like I would always come second in your life. I needed you too, Buck, but you weren’t there. And that broke me. I won’t lie to you—it still breaks me.

But despite all of that, I’m sitting here writing to you because my heart refuses to let go of you. You’re still a part of me, even now. And I want you to know that if—when—you come back, I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting for you.

I’m not ready to say I forgive you, not yet. There’s still a lot to work through, a lot that needs to be said between us. But what I can say is this: I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I’ll keep loving you, no matter what happens.

So come back to me, Buck. Please, come back safe. We’ll figure the rest out when you’re home.

Yours, Y/N

As you finished the letter, you folded it carefully, your hands trembling with a mixture of hope and fear. The fear of losing him again was overwhelming, but the hope—the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together—was enough to keep you going.

You sealed the envelope and handed it to the postman the next day, your heart heavy with all the things left unsaid, yet lightened by the chance to say what truly mattered.

The days after sending the letter passed slowly, the uncertainty gnawing at you as you waited, hoping for some kind of word—some kind of sign that Buck was still holding on. You pictured him pulling out your photo, keeping it close as he faced each day, and it gave you the strength to keep going.

You didn’t know if he would get your letter, didn’t know if he would make it back to you. But the one thing you did know was that love—your love for Buck—was still there. And no matter how broken things had been, no matter how much hurt had passed between you, that love was still worth fighting for.

Now, all you could do was wait. Again…

[jiao-ming]

Aventurine

From: Honkai Star Rail

Theme: Fluff?

(Photo from Pinterest)

——— ☆ • ♧ • ♤ • ♧ • ☆ ———

You never really saw a reason to live, all life was is a circle of meaningless. The things you knew about life was that it was better to be feared than be loved.

Ever since you could remember, your life was filled with misfortune. Each time you meet someone, they'll either kill you on site or kill you later on. If you think it'll be different, it wasn't...I wouldn't...

You had a wonderful gift of power, if it was even called a gift. It gives you more of a curse then blessings, everytime someone founds out about them you'll be in danger. So you eliminate the danger as soon as possible, even if you thought they'll be different...

But something stranged happened one day...

You were just chilling on a rooftop of a building in the middle of the night. Then you heard the rooftop door open, you were ready to kill the person but they spoke up to you.

"The rumors say that you'd be in the tallest darkest building in the city..."

You turn your head and face the masculine voice, you saw it was a man who wore expensive clothing. The clothes he wore had designs like of different gambling games, it caught your attention by his bold style.

"What do you want from me."

You said coldy to the male, you didn't want to be here any longer. If he tries to stop you, you'll kill him.

"It's not want, more like a need."

The male says smirking at you as his eyes shine with excitement. This made you confused by his choice of words. Your guard was up, what is he up to.

"Who are you...?"

You said confused with wariness, you already had your gun ready if he tried something.

"I'm Aventurine, part of the IPC—"

You immediately cut him off by shooting him by the side of his head. His eyes widen by the sudden violence.

"IPC huh...I don't associate with any of you people..."

Your eyes glare at him as you spoke harshly towards him, you never liked the IPC. The organization is just pure evil with no good side to you, maybe the way you think about them was because of all your encounters with them. They all acted hostile and violent to you, with the fact of them having a terrible image in the galaxy.

"Come on now, I heard some of my associates were troubled some to you. But I assure you I'm not like them, I communicate other than fighting."

Even after Aventurine said that you still had your guard up, you held your gun up to him if he tries anything. Even the slightest movement will cause Aventurine his life with you, but all he did was smile to this.

"Doesn't matter, you all are the same. If you want something you'll take it by force."

After you said does words Aventurine laughs at it, this made you confused. Why was he so careless of showing his reactions, what was his plan.

"What if I tell you I'll help you find a reason to live."

This caught your attention, why does he know this! How does he know this! Your eyes glare at him harshly, you didn't like what this situation was turning to.

"What do you want in return..."

You said knowing this wouldn't come for free, everything has to come in a price. No matter how big or small it is, you learn it the hard way...

"What I need in return is for you to be part of the IPC,—"

That didn't surprise you, it would make sense on why he would want you to work for the IPC. With your power it would be handy to have someone like you. But the next part of his sentence caught you off guard and left you speechless.

"—and also be my bodyguard."

You look at him like he was a mad man, it wasn't like he was the first person to ask the question of you working for them. But for him to ask you to be his bodyguard!? Now that was new...

"Pardon—What?"

"You heard me! Be my bodyguard and I'll help you find a reason to live."

Was he stupid of something...No he couldn't be! Why would he ask you! Knowing how you're a so called wicked beast who is filled with sin! A known demon among citizens! He could just have hired you to do the dirty work! But he asked you to be his bodyguard! So why!?

"Why, have you heard of me?"

"Of course I did, why wouldn't I ask you to be my bodyguard if I didn't heard the rumors."

So he does know...Then why did he want you still!? Did he have a death wish or something!? Is he a mad man!? Was he manic!? Questions keep flooding your head, but you soon snap out of it when Aventurine spoke out.

"So? What do you say?"

He says with a smirk as he held his hand out for you to shake to agree to the proposal. You stare down at his short height and then to his hand, will it be worth it? Almost everytime someone ask you to work for them you decline them, and if they threaten you, you'd kill them. But now...

"Fine, I accept..."

You said as you walk towards him and shook his hand, this was something that might go terribly wrong. But then again maybe terribly right...Aventurine smirks at your decision, he then pulls out a pin. It's design was similar to his ascetic and a piece of paper, he then hands it to you.

"You'll be under me now, hope you can start work tomorrow."

He says walking away from you while waving, you look at your hand and stare at the paper. It had an address and a number, must be his address and number. You let out a sigh, you wonder if this was a good idea. But what can you do now? What is done is done, now you just have to wait for the out come...

——— ☆ • ♧ • ♤ • ♧ • ☆ ———

Sorry if I got some spelling wrong...

English isn'y first language ╥﹏╥

If you want part 2 ask me!

I'll be happy to write it :3

[nicosraf]

I hope its alright to ask for writing tips, i know you have plenty on your plate already so definitely disregard if this is a lot to answer. Was there anything you used that helped you develop characters during the writing process? Like guidelines or tips or even other books?? I wanted to take on writing for fun but I'm quickly realizing there is a lot of,,,, planning and learning that goes along with the writing process. I feel like I have so many ideas and if I don't get them out I will soon explode 🥴

Hello! I always like answering writing questions!

I don't use guides! I've mostly got my own method now, but I've been writing for a long time, and one day, you'll probably have your own method too. I can share with you how I make characters, but try different things! Experiment!

(I also want to emphasize that if you're writing for fun then don't worry about it being good. If you're writing seriously, also don't worry about it being good. Write bad characters, if you want. Do what makes you happy and the work will always be good.)

My rubric for a character, in order of importance (for the most part) is: immediate relevance, themes, arc, background, attributes.

(Note: this isn't the order in which I come up with a character, just how I plot them).

Let me use Rosier as an example of how I typically think of character construction (Note: this isn't exactly how I thought up Rosier)

Initial idea: Lucifer needs a kind figure in his life, maybe someone he lives with. Not Michael. I want him to have a strong platonic relationship. Next idea: Maybe he'll stay kind while Lucifer worsens as a person. Next idea: He should fall but not because of a sin he committed. Next idea: He's older than Lucifer. Next idea: He had a life before Lucifer, too. Next idea: Something, something, fruit. It shows up everywhere in the (imagined) story. Fruit angel? Next idea: Messy, messy feelings about sex.

I start sorting this out as per my little guide:

Immediate Relevance: A platonic relationship for the protagonist, someone who will bring fruits to the Earth. Now what can he bring to this book?

Themes (with an eye for Rosier's relevance to the plot (and its own themes) and the most plot-focused characters' themes): Unconditional kindness, fruit and devil, no ambition, loss of innocence, weakness, not desiring sex (opposed to the theme of others and the book itself), unwillingly creating (while some others are desperate to create), falling from choice, demon who isn't a good demon. How can we structure these themes into a story?

Arc: Rosier, the fruit angel, happily takes newborn Lucifer in. He loves the paradise where nothing ever happens. He has a situationship with the angel who will become the demon of lust. He suffers at Lucifer's hands but forgives him. He loves him. But he doesn't do enough. He suffers at Asmodeus' hands. He chooses to fall. He cares for Lucifer's body. He creates a body for Asmodeus. He follows his friends (again) to a cave of demons. He doesn't want to be alone. He chooses demonhood, despite his kindness. But how can this arc happen to him? (There's a seperate checklist for an arc in my head, with the most important part being "Kill your character." It doesn't have to be literal. Kill them in the sense that they're no longer who they were at the start of the story.)

Background: This arc can only happen because of who Rosier is. And a person is their life, so what is Rosier's life? He was born out of a nova in the sky like a fruit. God hugs him tight, but he won't remember, and God will never meet him, not really. [More about Rosier's background here; this post is getting too long]. What has his background shaped him to be?

Attributes: Is kind, is patient, has learned to be happy with the bare minimum, has learned to make excuses for people. Loves fruits (obviously), likes baking, is fussy. [So on]

You see how all these things build into each other? It's like writing a book in itself. Actually, I think writing a plot and writing a character are very very similar! Because a story is a narrative — a collection of scenes/lines with a beginning and an end, each scene typically affecting the next — and a life is a narrative too — a collection of experiences with a beginning and an end, each experience affecting the next.

You might be curious why "Arc" is above "Background"; again, this isn't the order in which you should come up with a character or anything, but I find that placing big (author-ly) importance on the arc happening in the book/story itself can keep you from falling into the pitfall of "backstory of character is more interesting than what theyre currently up to in the plot." (Also this rubric isn't 100%. Sometimes you have to move the importance of things around. Sometimes a minor character should only have immediate relevance and attributes.)

I hope this is helpful! Good luck!! But please don't worry too much... Just have fun! Write a sexy character and see where they take you

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 19: Lil' Beethoven (Ride 'Em Cowboy)

First of all, let this very important fact be known: the love I have for all three albums in the Lil' Beethoven trilogy cannot be overstated. I think I can safely call them my favourite pieces of art ever made. You know, when you look forward to something and it not only lives up to all your expectations but it's also just SO SO much more? Something about this neoclassical / dada / deconstruction of pop music / whatever-you-should-even-call-it approach is absolutely PERFECTLY suited for my tastes, and I didn't even know I was looking for something EXACTLY like this until I found it.

I think the circumstances of my first hearing of this album are pretty funny and something I got pretty lucky with actually (I often think about this with Sparks in general, as much as I wish I've known about them sooner I also do feel like they appeared in my life when I needed that the most. But anyway.) I was very eagerly looking forward to hearing it and finally seeing for myself what the genius of this album is all about. But I insisted that I can only do it through a physical format because yesss, let's make it even more *special*! The moment I've been waiting for! So yeah let's gooo, I need to wait until my CD arrives in the mail (that was one of the longest weeks of my life). And then I started to wonder, well, maybe I actually won't like it that much. To hype myself up to this extent and then be severly dissapointed - would have sucked!

Well, I was NOT dissapointed. Instead I was perplexed, confused, but also very intrigued and quite, ok not just quite, *completely* amazed already. That was the initial reaction and I think it's a rare but very beautiful moment when this happens - no need to *fully* grasp it right away, but enough to be all like "oh that was SOMETHING. I need more." As I said after that first listen (and I actually have my whole LIVE reaction to hearing LB written down lmao, that's how much of a big deal this was for me), I felt like it actually has to grow on me a bit still, gradually but surely with each next listen, rather than the 1st listen being THE prime listening experience. And that was very true! But it wasn't even gradual, it was very fast, seriously. And something very important that stood out to me right away too were the melodies - something about them, and that continues into HYL and ECOTD too. It's this classic feeling of: this always existed, or at least it feels like I've known it for years already. And as I listen more and become more familiar with them the magic still grows.

It's of course no coincidence to me that an album that relies so much on extreme levels of repetition is so addicting, even hypnotising. And once upon a time I thought that I couldn't like something that's too repetitive and therefore could be considered monotonous or "predictable". But nothing is predictable about LB actually. (Besides... ok, I'll get to that one bit later). But yeah, it's good for the brain. And it's been said before by others but this music definitely has this certain neurodivergent appeal thanks to all this, and, well, I love that aspect of it so much and I definitely relate to it on some level that goes even deeper than just song topics and instrumentation choices. It's in the structure and the fundaments of it all too.

I legally can't finish this without a dedicated paragraph to the 2004 Live In Stockholm performance because HOLY SHIT. Feeling so lucky again that all three of these albums got this treatment and we have recordings of these half-concert-half-performance-art pieces that we can now marvel at. I will say that like, a pretty big part of the sum of the appeal that LB has as an album is stored in this show and its visual and narrative elaboration on its themes. And also it's just so fun to watch! Sometimes I thought about how this might be an even better introduction to LB / this era of Sparks / Sparks in general than the actual album but well, never had a chance to test that and you know. Maybe shouldn't recommend Sparks with one of the most leftfield things there is to be found from them. Either way, very good, very important, felt like experiencing the power of LB for the first time all over again.

So now, please hear my exact reasonings for why I so deeply love (almost) every single one of these songs......

The Rhythm Thief

NO song made such a big impression on me the first time I heard it as this. I might have gotten more used to it after all this time but man, The Rhythm Thief, you will always be the realest one to me. This is what made me look forward to the whole album so much and convinced me that it would be like nothing else I've heard before. And that turned out to be so very beautifully true!

How Do I Get To Carnegie Hall?

I could listen to this one a hundred times in a row over and over and not get sick of it one bit. That's it, idk what else to add, beautiful and ethereal in every way

What Are All These Bands So Angry About?

Mostly I just want to direct everyone's attention to the bridge section, at the 2:26-2:52 time mark, which as far as I can say is the most heavenly piece of music ever made. Feeling like that Winnie The Pooh soul leaving his body gif each time I hear this

I Married Myself

Aromantic anthem, to me. Not that much to say actually but it's just, a very sweet and pretty song even when it might be taken as just this sort of ironic piece, I think it's this situation where a song can be taken more or less literally and it doesn't lose anything, rather the sincerity takes on a new sort of meaning? Because yes, maybe this hyperbolic situation (marrying yourself) COULD be the solution to the heartbreak of failed relationships. Ever thought about that??? Ok, stopping right here and leaving my I Married Myself analysis for another day

Ride 'Em Cowboy

My mind is blank on this one suddenly. But it's so good believe me. I love it a lot. It just has this LB spirit that makes it very addicting to listen to

My Baby's Taking Me Home

This was sort of the first Sparks song I've ever heard, or maybe that I quote-unquote purposefully listened to, and I think that's pretty important considering that it was the moment that ultimately lead to... all this. This song has always been incredibly beautiful and powerful to me, but lately it just makes me emotional to an extent that makes it hard to listen to most of the time. I WOULD sell all my material possessions for even one chance to experience this song live by the way

Your Call Is Very Important To Us. Please Hold

Earns soooo much as a live version, but even without that I think it's genius in the same way as The Rhythm Thief, and maybe the most disquieting piece here overall... If we ignore the next one maybe

Ugly Guys With Beautiful Girls

Sitting there hearing the intro of this song all like "huh, this is so chill and calm... too calm..." and then being hit with, well, everything that's going on in this song afterwards was truly THE MOMENT back in the day (and re: the predictability thing. idk though, it's not like, really an issue). Later on I decided that this sort of narrative nature of the song makes it have less replayability value than the rest (???) but I abandoned that opinion soon enough, thank god. I love it how long it took me to realize that this song and the ending of MBTMH are the only times when drums appear on this entire album (I mean no, I'm not very proud of that fact actually, as the self-proclaimed biggest LB fan in my area. And The Rhythm Thief literally saying "say goodbye to the beat"... come on man). So yes, sometimes less is more! I adore this song now it's such a treat I would gladly terrorize my neighbours with it

Suburban Homeboy

Ok, I'm sorry Suburban Homeboy fans but this is the only song here that I'm not a HUGE fan of. I still think it's brilliant and an incredibly fitting ending for the whole thing - the mood whiplash is amazing as this is the only "vaguely happy sounding" song on here, per my words from months back. And what's better than yelling WE ARE THE SUBURBAN HOMEBOYS! (I'm actually awaiting today's Sparks karaoke rating reveal very impatiently lol the reveal happened before I posted this and I'm very happy about it)

One more actually, a quick word on Wunderbar because it gave us two things that we might have not been able to do without: 1) this whole album actually (the fact that LB exists because of Wunderbar giving the Maels the idea to continue meddling with this style. Up there as one of my fav pieces of Sparks trivia) 2) anddddd the 21×21 performance of it of course

[araekniarchive]

@mnvart // Kaveh Akbar, 'Calling A Wolf A Wolf' // @PinkRangerLB on Twitter // @kosmogrl // @devinsturk, '15 Proverbs for the Fellow Chronically Ill' // Jasmine Deporta // Anaïs Nin, House of Incest // the gentle wisdom uquiz by @inkskinned // Rora Blue, 'Sweet Dreams' // Hala Alyan, Dear Layal

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Li Zeyan’s Reliance Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 依靠之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

⚠️ Additional Warning ⚠️ while the entire date is not spice-themed, but the steamy parts are borderline dangerous and highly not recommended if you don’t qualify for the 17+ age rating (CN server). so, the call is yours~ :>

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Subbed Video】

─────────────

【Chapter 1】 

MC: [on the call] …We need to find some local media outlets that we can potentially partner with for our ad campaign ASAP.

MC: [on the call]  Also, email me a copy of the revised design proposal for the main exhibit booth.

As soon as I hang up the phone, a flurry of work notifications causes my phone to vibrate again. I roll over on the soft couch and can’t help but heave a sigh.

MC: Sigh…

[MC’s Company Name] has undertaken several major projects this year, and all of them have been executed very successfully. The company’s reputation is also gradually expanding beyond Loveland City.

Last month, our company bid for a large-scale project in collaboration with Copenhagen City Council and Loveland City, and I worked overtime for over a month for this.

However, just as we were about to secure the project smoothly, we were maliciously intercepted by the competing company Shuanjian Media. In the end, it was due to LFG stepping in that we were able to resolve the situation with a narrow escape.

Even though the project has been secured, a lingering sense of defeat from being backstabbed and making critical errors remains with me, refusing to dissipate from my mind.

Perhaps because of this, I’ve recently spent the majority of my time being on top of all kinds of tedious work, afraid that if I don’t handle them in time, it will lead to further consequences.

The sound of steady footsteps gradually draws near, and I turn my head to see Li Zeyan walking towards me. He places a cup of hot Longan tea on the coffee table next to me.

LZY: This is already the eighth time a certain someone has sighed tonight. What’s so thorny about the project that got you on edge?

I put my phone down and, somewhat coquettishly, open my arms toward the person in front of me.

MC: We’re planning an exhibition for the project in Copenhagen. Just finalized the venue today and now ironing out the details.

He readily responds to my cue and enfolds me in his arms. His fingers trace their way up my neck, massaging the skin there in a soothing manner.

LZY: If I remember correctly, the preparation period for this exhibition is quite long, and there’s no need for your recent overtime to catch up on the schedule.

MC: You’re right, but the coordination needed for various aspects of a multinational project is quite intricate. Starting earlier allows more elbow room…

MC: Plus, the reason I’ve been working overtime isn’t just for this project. The business interview you’re starring in will also be recorded tomorrow.

MC: It’s the final episode of the year, so I cannot afford any slip-ups!

LZY: You’ve already confirmed the program sequence with me three times today. What could possibly go wrong?

While speaking, Li Zeyan sits down next to me and draws me into his arms.

MC: After all, the external press would absolutely kill to have their names in the show where the CEO Li of LFG is making an appearance. So, I definitely need to be 200% cautious.

Nestled in his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent, I make a conscious effort to relax my somewhat tired brain.

LZY: If you encounter any difficulties, reach out to me at any time.

MC: I’m facing difficulties right now, and I’m in urgent need of CEO Li’s encouragement!

I pucker my lips and lift my head to approach him. The corners of Li Zeyan’s lips curl up slightly, and he lowers his head–– a soft, warm touch descends before leaving just as quickly.

Though fleeting, the tenderness of the moment washes over my heart. I nuzzle his chin with the tip of my nose, feeling perfectly content.

LZY: [chuckles indulgently] Dummy, you’re so easily satisfied.

MC: Why wouldn’t I be? What could be more soothing than a kiss from CEO Li?

MC: As for work matters… CEO Li has already helped me a lot, so I’ll work hard and handle the rest on my own!

LZY: We’ll talk about the “working hard” part later. But if you keep dawdling like this, the bathtub is gonna need a refill of hot water.

MC: Hehe, right now, you should say something like, “Honey, it’s bath time~”

LZY: …

Ignoring the speechless look in his eyes, I lazily shift my position and nuzzle his neck, then stand up with a smile.

MC: Would you like to join me for some relaxation time?

I notice that his fingertips seem to tense up for a moment. Before he can really come and “arrest” me, I make a face at him and dash into the bathroom.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

Soaking in the warm bath, I feel the fatigue in my body dissolving into the water.

Just as I’m about to use my phone to find a drama to watch and completely clear my mind, work messages begin popping up one after another on the screen, and I subconsciously click on them.

MC: [to herself] So, the collaboration partner we agreed on before has backed out…?

As part of our tourism project with Denmark, we are planning to establish recreational and promotional zones in both cities, and we have found an experienced collaborator in the relevant field to partner with.

MC: [to herself] Everything was already talked through and all set, so why are they bringing up issues with the company’s capital chain at this critical juncture?

I feel my insides somewhat burning with rage, so I give Anna a call. She also sounds just as angry and swiftly catches me up to speed on the situation.

Anna: [on the call] I did some digging, and it turns out one of the shareholders of this company has a very close personal relationship with the owner of Shuangjian Media.

MC: [on the call] Shuangjian Media?

Isn’t that the black-hearted company that tried to sabotage our tourism project?

Anna: [on the call] We initially partnered with them because of their experience in cross-border tourism projects, but now wrangling with them is more cumbersome than it’s worth. I think it might be better to take this opportunity to switch to another company.

MC: [on the call] …let me think about it.

I release a sigh and hang up the phone, then bury my face in the water, blowing bubbles as a mild head throbbing creeps over me.

The perfect company… As I ponder on this matter, a face flashes through my mind.

As a matter of fact, I have casually mentioned this project to Li Zeyan before, but he didn’t show much interest in it.

Should I… go ask him?

Even though I know in my heart–– LFG is the ideal choice that can’t go wrong, for some reason, I can’t seem to bring myself to voice my thoughts.

I can’t always turn to Li Zeyan to help resolve my problems every time I run into one.

No longer in the mood to soak in the warm bath, I reach for the shampoo and press the nozzle, intending to wash up as quickly as possible.

I press down hard twice, but the bottle only emits a sputtering sound, and the last remaining bit of shampoo drips pitifully into my palm.

MC: …

Akin to a sudden spark explosion, it instantly triggers a denotation of all the built-up frustration inside me.

I take a deep breath, jerk myself up from the water and throw on a robe, intending to head for the cabinet to find a new bottle of shampoo.

Little did I know, the moment I step onto the tiled floor, I feel my feet slip out from under me, and my body uncontrollably begins to topple forward––

With a loud thud, the immediate sensation of pain shoots up my knee.

MC: [in pain] Hiss…

The pain causes my eyes to burn hot, and I slide down onto the bathroom floor, rubbing my knee.

A flurry of somewhat anxious footsteps echoes outside the door. Moments later, the door is flung open, revealing Li Zeyan’s face, tension written across his entire countenance, an expression that is rarely seen on him.

LZY: [panicked af]  What happened?

The blast of cold air from the open door causes me to shiver. Noticing this, he closes the door before squatting down beside me.

MC: …I slipped and banged my knee.

As he looks at my slightly reddened knee, a hint of helplessness crosses his expression.

LZY: [sighs with infinite indulgent resignation] Restless.

His warm thumb massages the area around my reddened knee, causing the jumble of fretful emotions in my heart to instantly turn into a surge of grievances and pour out.

I blink, trying to dispel the mist clouding my vision. The finger caressing my skin pauses for a moment before suddenly landing at the corner of my eye, catching me unawares.

LZY: [even more indulgently] Crying because it hurts too much?

MC: …no, it’s not that!

MC: It’s nothing serious, just that I got a call from Anna earlier. There’s been… a minor hiccup with the tourism project.

Pouting my lips, I recount to Li Zeyan the “bad news” I’ve just received.

LZY: Do you need my help?

This seems to be the second time he has asked this question. I struggle with myself for a moment before shaking my head.

MC: There’s… no need for now, but if I can’t handle it myself, I’ll definitely reach out to CEO Li.

Hearing me respond this way, Li Zeyan doesn’t press further, and he simply places his palm on the side of my knee.

LZY: Does it still hurt?

Listening to his tender tone, I can’t help but gently hook my finger around his.

MC: It hurts… I can’t get up.

LZY: [laughs helplessly] When a certain stubborn someone fixates on something, there’s no stopping her, but she’s oddly honest when it comes to being afraid of pain.

MC: I’m just being a little persistent, is all. I can’t always have you be my safety net every time there’s an issue… ouch!

My knee twitches slightly, and a dull ache once again surges through my knee, reminiscent of spreading out along silken threads.

LZY: You can’t solve two things at once, so take them one at a time.

LZY: Do you want to take care of your knee first, or deal with the work matters?

MC: …knee.

The air in the small bathroom with thick with white steam, and even Li Zeyan’s faint sigh seems to blend into the steaming hot vapor.

LZY: [lets out a complex laugh; it’s of sb who is all-knowing of all happenings but is infinitely indulgent towards you]  Then listen to me.

MC: [confused]  What…

–

Before I can finish my sentence, Li Zeyan has already shown me through his actions how I should “listen.”

A soft touch imprints on my skin, and a burning sensation spreads from my knee along my skin to my entire body.

I jolt slightly and freeze for a moment. The patch of skin kissed by that softness tingles, and it seems like even the pain is slowly dissipating.

LZY: Don’t fidget; it might make the pain worse.

The deep, slightly hoarse tailing note of his voice, accompanied by the sound of running water, causes me to subconsciously draw my leg back a little, only to have it restrained in place by that hand again.

A gentle sensation, carrying with it a slight chill, seems to pepper its way over my knee, and the painful spot feels as if it’s being licked with cherishment and care.

All the senses in my body seem to be concentrated on that one spot, and I can’t help but take a light breath.

MC: Li Zeyan… 

LZY: [SO SOF– but you can also hear he’s THERE–]  Hm?

MC: …It’s nothing, I just wanted to say your name…

The fingers supporting my knee tighten slightly, and a surge of scorching breath sweeps over me, swallowing my trailing notes.

I follow his breath and, bit by bit, probe deeper, my heart in my chest pounding in synchronization with his increasingly rising body heat.

Warm water continues to gush from the showerhead, soaking both Li Zeyan’s clothes and mine without distinction.

A body temperature hotter than mine gradually closes in, and I feel as if I’m drowning in this steamy heat swirling in the air.

The lingering colorful bubbles from the shower gel float into the air, then burst open with a pop, leaving behind a soft chime drowned out by the sound of water.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

Even though I gave up on the bubble bath halfway, ended up having to take a second shower, and by the time I went to bed, it was already the middle of the night, I still woke up early today.

[MC’s Company Name] annual business interview program is scheduled to shoot its final episode today, and Li Zeyan will be appearing as the heavyweight guest in this installment.

I have postponed all my other work and arrived at the studio early to ensure every detail of the shoot is absolutely flawless.

The soft white light from the softbox projects onto the light gray background wall, dimly reflecting the shadows of people hurrying around.

Standing in front of the filming equipment, I direct the production crew to adjust the set.

MC: This table needs to be moved a bit more. It doesn’t look well-positioned at the moment.

MC: Turn the reflector on the front left a little more to the right… there, perfect!

MC: The set is almost ready. I’ll go and check on the guest first.

—

After saying hello to the supervisor, I head to the dressing room.

Li Zeyan, clad in a suit, sits in front of a vanity mirror, his bangs swept up, causing his somewhat piercing eyes to be enhanced with an even deeper intensity.

The moment I walk in, those eyes precisely capture me from the reflection in the mirror.

MC: How is the preparation coming along, CEO Li?

LZY: Not bad. Is everything taken care of on the set?

Detecting a hint of jest in his tone, I walk over with a smile.

MC: Yup, that’s why I’m here to check in on this side of things–– CEO Li is our important, esteemed guest after all, so we can’t afford to be negligent.

MC: Therefore, today, my entire day belongs to you, CEO Li.

I wink at him through the mirror and catch a subtle smile playing at the edge of Li Zeyan’s lips.

I sit down on a stool nearby and watch the makeup artist styling Li Zeyan.

From this angle, his ocular orbit and the bridge of his nose appear even more defined, accentuating the depth of his eyes all the more.

MC: CEO Li’s side profile could outshine many stars on the cover of fashion magazines without competition.

LZY: [laughs in spite of himself] …always laying it on thick.

Even though he says this, the slight arch at the tip of his brows betrays a hint of delight.

Spellbound, as I continue to watch him, my phone suddenly vibrates twice, and a message from Kiki pops up––

Kiki: Boss, great news!!

In the chat window, a push notification jumps into my sight, and a few familiar words grab my attention.

MC: [reading the news] “Shuangjian Media Faces Major Crisis! Multiple celebrities under its banner are implicated in tax evasion scandals, and the investigation is underway. The amount of tax evasion has reached up to…”

Upon seeing the number below, I take in a sharp breath of air.

With such a large amount of tax evasion being investigated, it’s sure to land them in serious trouble.

Although I have caught the wind of some rumors before, suddenly so many people being exposed at once seems more like a deliberate action…

A vague idea surfaces in my mind. I instinctively look towards the man not far away, only to lock eyes with him directly.

LZY: MC.

I haven’t even noticed when, but his styling is already complete, and the makeup artist has left the dressing room, leaving only the two of us.

The slightly slim-fitted suit highlights his already tall and straight stature, and his slender fingers unhurriedly adjust the cufflinks. He looks in my direction, lifting his head slightly.

LZY: Help me out.

I raise my eyes and see a rose gold collar pin loosely hanging from the collar of his light gray shirt. 

I walk up to him and carefully fasten the collar pin. My fingertips inadvertently graze against the skin of his neck, eliciting a slight quiver of the Adam’s apple beneath the collar.

A somewhat scorching breath caresses my bangs, leaving a tickling sensation.

LZY: [laughs in amusement] Why are you zoning out?

His warm fingertips are on my neck, gently grazing the skin there intermittently.

MC: Just saw some good news that came as a relief for body and mind, that’s why I was a little distracted.

MC: Shuangjian Media, the company that intercepted [MC’s Company Name] before, has hit a roadblock… I wonder who “played the hero to uphold justice.”

I smile and wink at him, trying to discern any inkling of a clue from his expression that would confirm my guess.

However, he simply lowers his eyes slightly and looks at me, a barely perceptible arc forming on his lips.

LZY: [chuckles softly, but that’s a mastermind chuckle i tell you lmao] That’s quite nice.

MC: Li Zeyan, you…

A knock on the door cuts me off, and the voice of my assistant comes from outside.

Assistant: Boss, CEO Li, it’s almost time for the shoot to begin.

MC: Got it, we’ll be right there.

I purse my lips, suppressing my urge to inquire further, and loosen my hands, intending to escort Li Zeyan to the filming studio.

To my surprise, the pair of arms holding me within show no intention of letting go. He lowers his eyes, his gaze intent upon me.

LZY: Given the importance of this shoot, there ought to be an additional step in the preparation process.

With his head lowered, Li Zeyan leans in towards me slightly. A gentle and familiar breath assaults my senses, and his soft finger pad presses between my lips and teeth, hinting at something ambiguous. 

I cradle his face and lift myself up on my toes.

Our breaths intertwine for a brief moment, but a gentle ripple is left in my heart, reminiscent of a dragonfly lightly touching the water’s surface.

MC: So, even CEO Li needs a little encouragement before stepping in front of the camera?

LZY: I learned it from a certain someone.

The light in those deep eyes remains locked onto me, shimmering slightly, radiating a glow that seeps into my heart.

LZY: And it’s very effective.

—

Such scenes are run-of-the-mill for Li Zeyan. His tone remains steady throughout and devoid of any trace of tension.

LZY: The economic situation this year isn’t conducive to expanding the business scope or making risky investments, but there are more opportunities in the lower-tier markets compared to previous years…

As I watch Li Zeyan through the camera lens, the soft light, which leans more on the cooler tone, accentuates the depths of the man’s countenance all the more.

He speaks at a measured pace, but each word is uttered with an inexplicable sense of certainty.

Host: Although CEO Li mentioned just now that this year isn’t favorable for expanding business extern, LFG seems to be steadily venturing into new fields this year.

LZY: As a matter of fact, LFG has not been as stable this year as it may seem from the outside. On the contrary, we’ve encountered more crises than in previous years.

LZY: The failure of some investments has even put us under the preying eyes of many industry peers.

LZY: But fortunately, I’m not alone in holding up LFG, and LFG is not an isolated island––

As he speaks, his gaze seems to subtly shift towards me behind the camera. In that brief second our eyes interlock, the corners of his lips curl upward into a small smile.

But when I focus and take a closer look again, it’s as if that fleeting smile was never there.

LZY: LFG was able to weather this year’s storms without any mishaps not only due to our decisions but also thanks to the countless colleagues who worked tirelessly day and night to recover the company’s losses, as well as to the support of our subsidiaries.

LZY: Especially the companies that LFG has invested in. Without them, LFG would’ve encountered even greater challenges this year.

Li Zeyan’s straight-from-the-shoulder remarks leave even the host a little taken aback, an expression of surprise settling on their face.

Host: It appears that even LFG, regarded as the lion king in the eyes of the others, has times when it rides the waves to advance.

LZY: That’s inevitable; no one walks a solitary path in this society.

LZY: Having your own plans and making decisive choices is important, but choosing the right people to move forward with is equally important.

I am slightly taken aback.

This was not in the script; it’s obviously an impromptu remark from Li Zeyan.

I’m not sure why, but these words suddenly make me think of those eyes gazing into mine in the bathroom last night.

The unnecessary persistences in my heart seem to quietly start to disintegrate. I tightly clench my fingers and pull my attention back to the show.

Host: We can tell that CEO Li is speaking from the heart. It seems that not only for the company but also for you, CEO Li, personally, do you have someone who can be considered as your exclusive “valued person”?

This time, I clearly see the smile in his eyes. I hold my breath slightly, waiting for the answer that I may have already known for a long time, yet can’t help eagerly anticipating––

LZY: [while looking at you] I do. It’s a well-spring that will never run dry, even in the desert. No matter what trouble may arise, I know without a doubt––

LZY: [while looking at you] She will be by my side forever.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

After the interview concludes, the filming crew and I head to the Central Grand Hotel.

To celebrate the completion of year-end work and the official wrap-up of the show, [MC’s Company Name] is holding a team-building celebration party here.

Perhaps because the end of the year is drawing closer, a festive atmosphere gradually begins to permeate, filling the banquet hall with laughter.

Being spurred on by this pure joy, I also end up having a few extra drinks.

I find myself feeling a little woozy, until, finally, Li Zeyan takes the wine glass from my hand and escorts me all the way to the lounge of the suite.

—

Inside the room’s bathroom, I turn on the faucet–– the cool water flows over my hand, washing away the slight tipsiness from the alcohol.

After the buzz from the alcohol has worn off a bit, I exhale and push open the bathroom door.

—

The lights in the room are not lit, and a familiar voice can be heard drifting from near the window. He seems to be on the phone with someone.

LZY: …got it. Email it to me.

The high heels under my feet tread on the soft carpet, barely producing any sound as I walk quietly to the floor-to-ceiling windows––

Outside the glass windows of the high-rise, thousands of lights spread out into the distance like a dazzling mosaic of stars.

Li Zeyan is lying on the carpet, the neon lights falling upon him in soft, colorful specks.

I sit down by the freestanding panoramic bathtub not far from him, watching as he hangs up the call.

MC: Was that about work?

LZY: Mm. I heard [MC’s Company Name] is looking for new partners for the Denmark project. I’ve asked the marketing department to draft a proposal. Once it’s finalized, I’ll send it over to you.

MC: But… weren’t you not very interested in this project before?

LZY: It’s true that the profit margins of this project are finite for LFG. However, if we approach it strategically, it could be a breakthrough in the Nordic market.

Seeing my somewhat baffled expression, he raises an eyebrow.

LZY: Since a certain someone has been dragging her feet, I have no choice but to take the initiative and propose it myself.

LZY: Or perhaps you already have other choices in mind?

MC: Of course not!

I don’t shy away from meeting those deep eyes of his squarely. My heart skips a beat, and I’m reminded of the question I’ve been holding back all afternoon.

MC: Before I give you my formal answer, I also have something I’d like to ask CEO Li––

MC: Shuangjian Media artists were found to have engaged in tax evasion. Helping [MC’s Company Name] vent some frustration this way… that was CEO Li’s doing, wasn’t it?

LZY: After all, a certain someone has been frowning and being glued to her phone even during meals for the past two weeks because of the troubles this company has stirred.

LZY: It’s best to take care of it early on, so it doesn’t take up more of your energy.

I’m momentarily stunned, and as I reflect on the recent events, a surge of emotions suddenly intertwines in my heart.

MC: So, CEO Li, what you are subtly reminding me is that I’ve been too occupied with work recently and have been neglecting you?

LZY: [you can’t hear me, but I’m screaming––]  I simply want to have the share that’s rightfully mine.

His understated words convey a hint of tenderness that’s impossible to miss, and it sears into my heart, making the swaying toes of my feet pause mid-motion.

MC: Li Zeyan, thank you. Even though it may sound very formal, I still want to say thank you.

LZY: I wonder who was the person that said before that, you and I, we are one identity?

I’m slightly taken aback for a moment–– I did seem to have said those words not too long ago.

At the time, FengZhen Group was making moves against LFG, and I couldn’t be more grateful to be the one who could stand by his side.

–

[Tidbits]: It’s a call-back to Li Zeyan’s 2024 CNY UR: Burning Imprints~

–

MC: [teasingly]  I believe I said “and LFG” at the time.

LZY: [confidently shrugs off LOL] Same thing.

LZY: Both LFG and I are enmeshed in many complicated relationships, and more and more branches and leaves are slowly growing outward.

LZY: So there’s no need to be so anxious. You’ve long been the sharpest blade capable of breaking the siege for LFG.

The lingering haze that has been weighing on my mind for the past half a month suddenly clears up. In its place, there arises a kind of sweet and surging fluttering sensation, and it’s overwhelming enough to fill my entire heart.

I did seem to be a little too anxious, so anxious that I overlooked the fact that I didn’t need to be in a hurry to rush forward. The unshakable position by his side will always belong to me and me alone.

I lower my eyes, my gaze tracing the contours of his outline obscured by the darkness.

MC: Li Zeyan… you will forever be my first choice.

–

As the words leave my lips, my ankle is suddenly clasped by a warm, dry palm.

Followed by a sigh that almost blends into the night, a twinge of pain shoots through my calf––

My eyes widen, watching as Li Zeyan’s lips meet my skin and nip me gently. He raises his eyes to interlock with mine, and I can see a hint of dissatisfaction swimming in their depths.

LZY: [GOSH THAT SULKY YET SEXY TONE] You’ve hesitated for too long.

Warm fingertips trace upward along my calf little by little, as if offering a kind of appeasement.

The worries haunting me every now and again, concealed in the darkest recesses of my heart, are set alight and burned to ashes.

MC: …I didn’t take that long.

LZY: Since I am your first choice, don’t hesitate.

His fiery breath snakes slowly up the inside of my knee, accompanied by comforting words tinged with a layer of inexplicable rosy hue, causing one to become addicted.

The soft touch rests gently agains the bend of my knee, causing me to shiver involuntarily. I chuckle softly and look at him with a semi-playful gaze.

MC: Um… Mr. “First Choice,” could you help me with something––

MC: Tell me, what can I do to make you happier?

Not waiting for me to finish my sentence, the pressure on my thigh increases slightly, and suddenly my body feels lighter.

The cry of exclamation hasn’t even left me before I find my entire person already wrapped in strong, solid arms.

LZY: You knowingly ask the question.

His deep eyes are so close to me, almost within reach. I can clearly see countless sparks surging beneath them, stirring up an ambiguous and inexplicable heat.

LZY: [chuckles softly] Also, while I said I would help you, it doesn’t mean you won’t have to pay the price.

LZY: After all, I don’t do business at a loss.

LZY: You still have time to think about… what you can give to pay me.

My heart is filled to the brim. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, bury my face in the crook of his neck, and release a sigh of contentment.

The throbbing and undulations of his chest pound against my body again and again, and even the depths of my very soul seem to be trembling along with the motion––

Filling up my entire being.

──────────────────────────────────────────

[sushiisiu]

jsbajan i got whiplash bc i followed u for scollace & i haven’t been on tumblr in a while. so when i saw kaishin i was like, HM. THIS ART STYLE IS SO FAMILIAR?? then i realized. you’re posting bangers. another fav ship of mine. i love kaishin sm omgosh. <3 keep up the awesome work & have fun w/ ur art!!!

omg that's really funny since i've been thinking that my artstyle changed a lot (back to normal) after scollace but thank you so much!!! kaishin goated!! even if 73 is making stupid retcons!!! and i will i have so much devious plans for drawing them rn wahahahahhaa

fake ass bitch ^

[aethersea]

devastating to go into the tag for an obscure vampire movie I've been quietly obsessed with for years to find mostly gifsets of minor characters (played by big-name actors) and review blogs saying they didn't like it :(

@ everyone who made a post saying "I liked it :)" I am blowing you a kiss. everyone who made a lovely gifset or photoset of the cinematography I am tipping my hat. that one poster that said "bro did y'all just miss the Entire Message about class and race or???" I am shaking your hand with enthusiasm there was SUCH a message about class and race

anyway everybody should watch Night Teeth and revel in glitzy flashy modern vampires in LA with me

[puredoesnotmeankind]

People mad that Nia’s ‘evil version’ was just her being mildly snarky and angry did not grow up in religious households

[danielnelsen]

ok prediction time

(it’s my first time playing bg3, i know nothing about the plot; DO NOT SPOIL ANYTHING FOR ME. currently im at moonrise towers and the extent of gale’s plot is that he’s been stabilised by elminster and has also just made the shadow lantern. shoutout to astarion for being the only one not to tell me that was a bad idea, that’s when you know you’re making good life choices)

so what i’m getting from this is that the big moral choice in gale’s story is gonna be to get forgiveness and acceptance from mystra (presumably before/without using the orb) vs embracing his own ambitions and, having a vague idea of the intensity of some of the endings, possibly going way off the deep end with that

while i don’t know the full story for other companions, im feeling like gale was probably the best choice for me in terms of playing an origin because im an extreme completionist and im going to get sage inspiration points all over the place, but im also going to push *everything*. i want to follow every potentiality to its end, make dodgy deals, play all sides, etc.

and surface-level that sounds good for playing as astarion (definitely getting a lot of charlatan inspiration), but what it really means is that i get a lot of approval from astarion and also i feel like it’s gonna affect the way gale’s story ends a lot more. gonna try not to go too far off the deep end but it’s gonna be pretty tempting lmao. i’ll just keep downing these tadpoles and ‘trusting’ my hot dream guy. nothing can possibly go wrong!

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

im trying to blend the fashion/aesthetic of 80s rockstars, disco, and rhinestone cowboy into a cohesive look. its painful

[in-the-multiverse]

I really enjoy the life series being a thing that goes “thrown into a death game and shit gets intense and we all end up needing therapy” BUT ALSO the meta version where it’s “Grian invited us to a death game and we voluntarily went and shit got intense but it’s all good we know we’re doing this for entertainment, no hard feelings anywhere (although some players hold grudges stronger than others)”

But what if it was combined? Sorta like genloss

Maybe it’s only the winners who see eldritch beings holding cameras or floating cameras. The winners get a special mic held up to them while they rant about their strategies or thoughts. Maybe everyone else sees it too, but it becomes invisible to them as the season progresses. As shit gets intense and they get their head lost in the game

And Gem, the newest addition, doesn’t have seasons worth of ignoring the things out of the corner of her eye. She catches a camera and stares right at it. At the audience. Us

The eye imagery still stands, because what the players perceive as floaty glowing eyes are actually camera lens. Reflective black “eyes”. Watching. Waiting. Recording