#Anyway I have felt sadness and sometimes bitterness at the way it can change a dynamic

[itspileofgoodthings]

As someone who isn’t married I like having married friends so much because they absolutely (1000% understandably) are swallowed by their responsibilities and their work and their families in a way that unmarried people don’t where they just disappear for a bit and then they resurface like “life has been CRAZY here are 10 million things that have happened” and tbh it really is very steadying and kind of wonderful for me

[maysileeewrites]

midnight answer

Robb Stark x fem! Reader || 18+; MDNI!

Synopsis: Moments like these, when he’s so tender and gentle are the hardest to remind yourself that this doesn’t mean anything. You and Robb are just friends - friends, helping each other out, as he put it - nothing more, nothing less. And Robb’s heart certainly doesn’t beat for you, like yours does for him. 

c.w.: angsty smut!! (I feel that this is the best way to describe this lol), lots and lots of angst and emotional hurt with an eventual happy ending, yearning & notions of unrequited love, Robb being an emotionally-stinted idiot (I fear that’s becoming a canon event in my Robb fics lol)

word count: 3.2k || masterlist

i’m your midnight answer,  queen of the night 

The nights are the worst. 

And yet, somehow, they’re simultaneously also the best. 

They’re the only part of the day during which you can really pretend that Robb is yours. And not even that’s entirely true, and maybe that’s what’s so disheartening about it. 

Because how can you really pretend that he’s yours when he always leaves your side, sometimes just moments after finishing inside you? 

How can you pretend that his heart is yours, when sometimes, he’s deliberately not looking at you, just thrusting himself into you, his head lowered to the crook of your neck? 

Robb’s heart was claimed a long time ago, when he first met Talisa - Talisa, who has been dead for almost a year now, not that that changes a single thing -, you’d known that when you first started sleeping with Robb. 

Just as you’d known that love was never supposed to be part of the arrangement - definitely not for Robb, at least. 

He’d made that abundantly clear after the first time you’d slept together. 

„Look, I really like you, but this - this isn’t - this doesn’t mean anything“, he’d said, his back turned to you, already walking back over towards his table with the maps of Westeros spread out on it, while putting his robe back on. 

„This is just - two friends helping each other out.“ 

„Sure“, you’d said, trying to swallow down the bitter pang of heartbreaking disappointment you’d felt. „Just two friends - two friends helping each other …“ 

Robb wasn’t even paying attention to you anymore, his eyes already glued to a letter from one of his allies. You’re not quite sure, but you think that he didn’t even notice walking you out of his tent a few moments later after you couldn’t bear the heavy, uncomfortable silence anymore. 

Robb was right - this really didn’t mean anything, you tried to tell yourself as you walked through camp back towards your tent, crossing your arms in front of your chest, trying to fight off the chill of the cool night air. 

This didn’t mean anything, you were just two friends, helping each other out. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

But, of course, your stupid little heart just had to go and fall in love with him anyways. 

Maybe it serves you right, if you really think about it. Maybe this is what you get for agreeing to this arrangement in the first place. 

Maybe you should have seen the signs, instead of trying to ignore them. Maybe you should’ve acknowledged that in all your years of knowing Robb, you’d always felt drawn to him, like there was something tying the two of you together. 

Maybe, you’d always held love for Robb in your heart and just didn’t realize it sooner. 

Not that any of that matters, now. 

Certainly not right in this very moment, when you’re in Robb’s arms, your hands tangled in his auburn curls, your legs around his waist, with him moving inside you, his hands on your waist keeping you in place, as he continues to thrust up into you. 

Just then, his ice blue eyes find yours, and for a moment, every sad, disheartening thought you’ve had about Robb and the hopelessness of your situation fades away. 

These bittersweet, dangerously hopeful moments are the worst. 

These moments when he looks at you like this could really be something more. Like there’s something there, something more, some feeling he’s having that goes beyond the purely phyiscal arrangement you’d initially agreed on. 

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and just when you think that he couldn’t possibly confuse you anymore, he cups your face with one hand and leans in to kiss you. 

Your stupid, traitorous little heart starts to beat faster as you tug on Robb’s curls harder, reciprocating the kiss. 

You and Robb rarely kiss. 

Sure, you’ve gotten each other off with your mouths countless of times, and Robb usually loves to explore the rest of your body with his lips, but you don’t really kiss. 

The few times you’ve kissed, it always was a spur of the moment thing. Like that one time Robb seemed so overwhelmed by his orgasm that he’d cupped your face, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry, bruising kiss. Or that other time you’d been in this exact position, Robb looking up at you and you’d felt that the tension between you so intense to the point that it was almost unbearable and so, you’d leaned forward and kissed Robb, trying to somehow dissolve the tension. 

But other than that, you barely kiss. And when you do, it’s usually hungry and bruising, your mouths clashing together. 

Not so tender, and - loving. 

And no, you can’t go there, thinking thoughts like that. 

You simply can’t. 

And so, you do the only thing you can think of trying to distract yourself - you use Robb’s distracted state and start moving your hips, meeting his powerful thrusts with your own movements. 

Robb groans loudly, the sound alone enough to have you clenching around him. 

„Gods“, he groans, his blue eyes finding yours again, „keep doing that and I won’t last much longer.“

You smirk, doing exactly what he tells you. 

Robb closes his eyes, groaning again. You love seeing him like this, coming undone, pure, unfiltered pleasure overtaking his features. 

It doesn’t take much longer for both of you to reach your peak, your hands tugging harshly on Robb’s curls, trying to steady yourself against the white-hot waves of pleasure crashing over you. Robb pulls out of you just in time, though you can’t help but think that this time, it feels more like an afterthought instead of the usual necessary precaution. 

After, when he’s cleaned you both up and tenderly tucked your robe over your shoulders, Robb presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head - another thing he rarely does, if ever. If you think about it, this might be the first time he’s ever done that. 

You bite down hard on your lip, avoiding Robb’s gaze for a moment. Moments like this, when he’s so tender and gentle are the hardest to remind yourself that this doesn’t mean anything. 

This doesn’t mean anything - you and Robb are just friends. 

Just friends. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

And Robb’s heart certainly doesn’t beat for you, like yours does for him. 

And so, you get up, trying not to look at Robb, tying your robe tighter around yourself. 

But just when you turn to move away from Robb, his hand suddenly grasps yours. 

He softly utters your name, and you can’t help it, you look up to meet his bright blue eyes. 

„I - you - you don’t have to go … I-“

Your heart starts beating faster. 

„What - what are you saying, Robb?“ 

„I’m saying that I want you to stay“, he says, running a hand through his curls, which only serves to make them look even more disarranged. 

„Oh“, you say, suddenly feeling quite breathless. „Oh, I-“

Just say yes, your heart seems to tell you, pounding fast in your chest. 

Don’t agree, is what your mind tells you. Don’t agree - you’ll only fall harder for him, which will make it all the more unbearable when he’ll break your heart in the end. 

But what if he won’t break your heart? 

What if maybe - just maybe - he’s starting to feel the same way you do? 

„You alright there, love?“ Robb’s concerned voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 

And of course, now he has to go and call you love as well - something he also never did before. 

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, trying to force a smile onto your face. „Just - a litte lost in thought“, you say, trying to shrug it off. 

You’ve never before asked me to stay the night - what is it that’s changed for you now? 

„But sure, I, uh - I can stay the night …“ 

Robb smiles. In this moment, he looks so happy, his smile lighting up his whole face; so serenely beautiful, it physically pains you to look at him. 

„That sounds wonderful, love“, he says, coming to stand in front of you and cradling your face in his hands. 

Your heart aches as you smile up at him. 

„It really does.“ 

🐺⚔️ 

When you wake up, Robb is still fast asleep behind you, one hand spread rather possessively across your stomach, his other arm slung over your waist, keeping you pressed to his chest, just like every other morning. 

Two months have passed since Robb first asked you to stay the night. 

Two months in which you stayed nearly every night. (Two months for you to fall even more in love with Robb, and for the moments in which you think that there might be more to his feelings than he’s letting on to only become even more painfully bittersweet.) 

A few times he even came to your tent - something that also never happened. 

He’s never stayed the night though, at least not until now. 

Another first. You seem to be experiencing a lot of firsts with Robb, lately. Like last night, when he’d kissed you good night, before scooping you up in his arms. He’s never really done that before. Sometimes, he’d kiss you on the cheek or on the crown of your head, before walking back to his own tent. He’s never before given you a proper good night kiss, though. 

What does it mean - if it even means anything, because sometimes, when you get really frustrated with your whole situation with Robb, you feel as if with Robb, you can never really be sure of anything. 

These moments during which you feel as if there’s more to his feelings for you than what he’s letting on - do they even mean anything in the grand scheme of things? Because if he’d truly developed feeling for you, wouldn’t he have said something, anything by now? You’ve been sleeping with each other for over a year now - surely if he’d really feel more than just friendship for you, you’d have noticed it somehow. 

Which, in the end it just means that you’re a fool - a fool not to have better protected your emotions, especially when you’d always known how this would end. With your heart broken into a thousand pieces, and Robb’s heart still dead and unbeating, never beating for you. And how could that ever be, when he loved Talisa as much as he did? When you’re nothing more than a friend, and what you’ve been doing for over a year is nothing more than just two friends helping each other out. 

„Mornin’, love.“ 

Robb’s soft voice, still heavy with sleep, draws you out of your thoughts, as do his lips, tenderly exploring the soft skin of your neck. You’ve been so deeply withdrawn into your own thoughts that you haven’t even noticed Robb wake up. 

„Sleep well?“, Robb murmurs, before softly kissing a spot on your neck that’s already tender and sensitive to touch from all the attention he gave it during the night. 

You try to force yourself to say something, anything, but the words won’t come out. You feel your heart starting to beat faster, your throat starting to constrict. 

Robb, of course, notices your silence - and also the way your whole body stiffens, when he sits up behind you, resting his head on the crook of your neck. 

„Something the matter?“, he asks you, his voice now laced with concern. 

Still, you cannot bring yourself to answer him. 

His concern - it means nothing, you’re trying to convince yourself. You’re just friends - just friends. Oh, how you hate that word. Because how can it ever be enough for you to just be Robb’s friend, when you love him so much that sometimes it physically pains you to even be in the same room as him? 

Robb says your name, his tone pleading. When you still don’t answer him, he carefully lets you out of his grasp, before shuffling around on the bed, until he’s sitting right in front of you. 

„Love, please talk to me.“ 

And something about the urgency in his voice and the intense emotion in his bright blue eyes finally breaks you down. 

„What - what is this, Robb?“

Your voice is shaky and uneven, sounding as though you’re on the verge of breaking down in tears. 

„What-“, Robb starts to say, but you immediately cut him off. 

„No, really, Robb, what is this? What - what are we even doing? What - why are you still doing this to- why are we still doing this?“ 

„I don’t-“

„Look, I know - I know what we’ve agreed on, in the beginning. I know that - that this … we’re just friends, right? Just friends - friends“, your tone turns bitter and you laugh darkly. „Friends, helping each other out … well we’ve helped each other out a lot, haven’t we?“ 

You laugh again, shaking your head. The words continue to come, though - it feels like once you’ve started talking, started finally voicing your thoughts and pouring your heart out, there’s no stopping it. 

„Look, Robb, I get it - I do, I really, really do. This - it’s just - it … it doesn’t even mean anything, right? Not to you, anyways … I get it - and I wish I didn’t, but I do … you, you just - you needed someone - someone to be there for you, after Talisa-“

„Stop“, Robb suddenly interrupts you, the word so strong and forceful that you wince. 

Your heart aches and you blink furiously, because even though you've already faced away from Robb, you don’t want to cry, not in front of him. Not yet. In just a few moments, once he’s finally broken your heart once and for all, you can break down and cry. 

Because - of course. 

Of course, just the mere mention of Talisa is enough to scare him off for good. You shake your head, angry at yourself. How could you have been such a fool, not seeing that this was always how this was going to end - with your heart in pieces, because you’d been naive enough to believe that Robb might feel the same way you do. 

„Gods, I’m such an idiot“, you whisper, your voice breaking on the last word. 

„You’re right“, Robb suddenly says, his voice sounding just as broken as yours. You don’t care though, not in this moment, with your heart already aching. 

„You’re right - I did need someone after - after Talisa died. I did need someone - I needed you. Gods, how could I have been so blind and stupid?“ He laughs bitterly, and even though you’re still facing away from him, you can tell just by the tone of his voice alone and his frustrated sigh that he’s running a hand through his curls in desperation. 

„I needed you - I needed - gods, after she died, I felt as if nothing would ever make sense anymore, as if I’d never be happy again.“ 

You bite down hard on your lip, already regretting how you’ve just opened up to Robb. Your heart’s already bleeding, you really don’t want to hear about how much he still loves Talisa. 

„And I needed - I needed to drown my grief, to numb the pain, somehow. And you - by the seven, I was so stupid … I needed you, craved your presence so much that by the time I realized how much I wanted you, how much I loved you, I’d already messed everything up by starting this whole situation in the first place … but gods help me, I don’t regret it. I know I should - gods, I really, really should, when I’ve already hurt you so much, but - gods, after Talisa died, everything was so dark and heavy and I didn’t think that I’d ever truly feel alive again … but then you - you showed me so much light - and gods I wish that I’d realized sooner what I have with you …“ 

„Robb“, you interrupt him, voice shaky, heart pounding in your chest, „what - what are you saying?“ 

Robb doesn’t answer your question immediately, in fact, the only thing you hear is the rustling of the thick fur covers you always sleep under. Then, suddenly, Robb is right in front of you, kneeling down on the floor before you, carefully reaching for your hands and lacing your fingers together. 

His eyes find yours. 

For a moment, it feels as if the whole word has stopped moving. 

For a moment, there’s nothing else, just you and Robb, looking at each other, both of you breathing heavily, regret burdening you down. 

„I’m saying that I love you - gods, I love you so much and I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner.“ 

You let out a choked little noise at his words, causing Robb to smile softly. 

„I’m saying that I love you and that if you’ll have me - if you can forgive me -  I’ll love you. I love you, and I just - I just want to be with you … if you’ll still have me, that is …“, his voice trails off, yet his gaze doesn’t leave yours. 

His eyes look watery and he’s blinking back tears furiously, but that’s not the thing you’re focused on. No, what you’re focused on is the intense emotion in his eyes - all his love and yearning for you, the emotions perfectly mirroring your own. 

„Robb, I-“, you start to say, but he cuts you off almost immediately. 

„I’m sorry for not realizing things sooner, I’m sorry, I - I’ve probably been quite the jerk, especially in the beginning, but I-“

„I get it“, you interrupt him, squeezing his hand. 

He looks like he’s on the verge of interrupting you again, and so, you do the only thing you can think of in that moment to shut him up - you lean forward and kiss him. 

Later, you’ll have time to reflect on your emotions and on what you mean to each other, together. Later, there will be time to properly talk things through. 

But right now, you just want to be in this moment with Robb. Because while you know that there’s a lot you both need to talk about, a lot that you need to process, you’re sure that there’s one thing you won’t need time to properly work through: Robb loves you. 

Because no mater how unattainable, how unbelievable that notion seemed only a few weeks ago, you just know that it’s true. 

Maybe it’s the way Robb said it, with so much sincerity, his voice so full of emotion. 

Maybe it’s in the way he kisses you, desperate and urgent, as if to make up for time lost. 

Maybe it’s in the way his hands have found their way to your waist, holding on tightly to you, as if he never intends to let go of you. 

Or maybe it’s in the way your heart flutters when Robb starts to bunch up the fabric of your nightdress around your waist with one hand, using his other hand to gently spread your legs apart, before he kneels back down on the floor again. 

But maybe it doesn’t matter how you know - maybe the only thing that matters is that you do know. 

Robb loves you. 

And so, you close your eyes, tangling your hands in Robb’s auburn curls, getting lost in the moment completely as Robb starts kissing his way up the inside of your thigh.

tagging: @rheanyraaaa @inkandarsenic @amethystinie @strrvnge @samieree @justmymindandstuff @prettydeeryess @whppxdit4chi

[miss0atae]

Random Thoughts about Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (EP 1 - 2):

I'm so glad I took the time to watch these two first episodes now because I could really enjoy them. At first, I was a bit sad I missed all the fun that you can get when you're watching the episodes as they come out. I kind of have a bit of fear of missing something important when I'm watching a series later. Turns out sometimes it's better to wait because you can really take the time to appreciate the story.

It's been a while I didn't enjoy a Korean BL. I think the last one was Boys Be Brave! last May. Since then, I didn't find any I could really like. I also think we didn't get that much from Korea. It felt like the coming of new BL series has dried up and Korea didn't want to bring us new interesting BL (according to my own taste of course). Anyway, I watched LFTCOT and I was really impressed. There is this atmosphere you can only find in Korean BL. The setting of the story, in a rural and brutal town, reinforces this feeling.

It's not easy to bring a good setting and to make you care fast for the main characters, but this series did it very well. Do Hoe lives a violent life around his more violent father. You can't be indifferent to his hardships. When we first met the character, he seems like he's made of stone. However, you soon realizes that it's a very fragile armor he is wearing to protect his mind and his heart. There seems to be no ray of sunshine in his life. He has this posture where you feel like he is trying bravely to put up and overcome adversity, but it's like a losing battle. He can only win by leaving this place. There is a sense of hope, an ability to silently endure hardship and suffering in Do Hoe. At the same time, there is also this bitterness, a mixture of angst, endurance and a yearning for more in life.

That's where Ju Yeong's arrival is so crucial and bringing so much more in Do Hoe's life. It's like he opened the curtains that were weighted everything. You see how he get passed the defense mechanisms of Do Hoe and how slowly their relationship change and become deeper. Every time Ju Yeong was smiling, it felts so warm. I guess he is bringing such a contrast in Do Hoe's life. However, even if he has a very charming and cheerful personality, he is also a more complex character. He is not naive and he sees things. I fear a bit for the time where they are both going to drift apart only to reconnect later. How is "the oppressive culture symbolized by Do Hoe's father" going to twist their relationship and how will they find the way of freeing themselves from it ten years after?

I guess we'll get the answer in the coming episodes. As for now, The series did a great job so far in balancing the angst with more happy times. I especially like the "ice-cream" scenes. It feels so Korean BL to have a scene where the main characters share an ice-cream. I can't wait to see what will get in episode 3 and 4.

[mywritingonlyfans]

I’m not sure he to say this but I’m absolutely obsessed with prof turner I check tumblr 4 times a day and reread it once a day Ilysm for writing that masterpiece

I'm sorry I'm doing this with you 😭 I wish I wasn't struggling to write, I can't say when I'm going to post part2 than soon, I'm trying to finish it very soon so I can post it but I'm in a loop of thinking I'm being too long-winded describing things. And I had to change some things because of the size/long and it doesn't seem fair to you to have to do more parts. (I regret not having expanded to more parts but at the same time imagine me taking so long to post, you would hate me). Anyway, there are still some bites left to be written and I'm still going to proofread... it will take a few more days, but I hope it will be soon! Sorry it's taking this long, guys 🥹 BUT I DEAD GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT ENOUGH TO BE REREADING IT!!! it's lovely!!! Tysm!!

:this is a small wip from somewhere near the beginning of part2:

His messy and crooked handwriting on the napkin somehow lingered in your mind. Not as much as the possibility of him being someone other than yours, but it persistently surrounded your aura. Your idealization of Professor Turner did not fit with him being a traitor, so yes, the way you portrayed him in your mind did not allow for such a possibility unless he proved otherwise. And that hurts, from deep within your core to the bitterness in your mouth and the burning in your throat. It was frustrating, yet you still wanted him around. What continued to motivate you to read the book he had given you and delve into his notes was the feeling of having him by your side, reading every word with you. Sometimes you were certain that if you closed your eyes, you could hear his rough, accentuated voice blending with the characters.

Perhaps, if you were his age and already held a degree, maybe even a professor specializing in romantic literature, there might have been something between you two. Picture it: a rainy afternoon, your head resting on his chest, his warm lips near your ear as he read to you. You hadn't openly acknowledged it yet, but you felt a certain compatibility despite the numbers of years difference. It took you a while to realize, but his demeanor softened whenever he saw you, his gaze growing more serene, and even the beloved wrinkle between his eyebrows had time to relax. His voice became gentler. You weren't completely oblivious to these cues, though you did have your doubts.

It all traced back to that one night when he had come to your aid, opening your eyes to the possibility that he could belong to someone. The faint, woody scent of his blazer had found its way to your home. He had even apologized for pulling back from a kiss, not wanting to be rude, and left his phone number in your belongings with a simple message: "Call me if you need me, lil’ one." He left no room for doubt; your mind still spun, and you felt helpless, uncertain about what steps to take. But your desire to do something about it burned brightly.

"I can hear your breathing," his tone was relaxed. Just as you hoped it would be with you, and then you wondered if he could recognize you by your breathing alone.

You remained silent, there was no plausible reason or emergency that had made you call. It wasn't strange, just unusual. He laughed, which made you imagine him with a cigarette between his fingers, taking a breath on the balcony with his mouth slightly open to blow out the smoke. Maybe he just smoked too much, and you weren't obsessed.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence." He laughed, in a way that filled your lungs, and the little wrinkles around his eyes appeared for contemplation. At least in your mind, just for you.

You exhaled, your eyes filling with tears. It wasn't exactly a desire to cry, but you felt genuinely sad knowing that you weren't and wouldn't be his.

"How do you know it's me, Mr. Turner?" You wanted to sound playful, but your voice came out so shaky that it made calling him that seem inappropriate.

"It was a guess. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would call me at this hour and stay in deep silence. And, well," there was a pause, his guttural and muffled breathing making you take a deep breath. Enough time for a drag, you thought. "You know, I was ‘oping you’d call." He was sincere, typical of him. He always seemed too clear when he wanted to be. Everyone said he was strict, but you couldn't think of a time when he had made his students confused or uncertain about something he demanded. Demanded, that was a word that suited him in the classroom.

"Waited?" And you saw him nod with a sweet look for you, as if he were by your side. In fact, he just mumbled. "Expected me to be in trouble?" You tried to sound more cheerful.

There was a pause; you lay down, staring at the walls until you buried your nose in the pillow in a hug. He was close to his phone; you could hear him wet his lips and breathe lightly. You wanted to run your fingers over his face and hair again, but you couldn't deny that this was as magnificent as it got.

"Not at all, but I wouldn't hesitate to save you." His eyes closed tightly. The silence grew deeper, still comfortable, it was cute. If you had the chance, you would kiss him before that, before it got too cute. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding regretful, just reluctant due to your brief absence.

You laughed, not saying anything, but it was enough for him to understand that everything was okay.

"Are you sad?"

[whippedcloudsofcream]

This feels sad honestly

The fact that Mono,the MC of Little Nightmares 2, became the villain that has been chasing him the entire game,Thin Man is like saying "You eventually became the monster you killed" or "As a child,you hate the monster,As an adult,you are the monster"

It's interesting the music perfectly captures the scary atmosphere:

It started sounding like a lullaby when Mono is a child,it felt innocent at first,then it slowly became dark,the feelings that's chill your spine,Mono is growing up so he lost the innocence of a child. At the end,it just feels bleak,it feels empty as if this isn't a child who's naive. He became a man, he's not the little boy who's scared of the monster anymore,he is the monster now

I gotta say the song describes how cruel and hard it is growing up as a child,it ain't pretty,it ain't light. It's not a process you can turn back,once you began there's no way back

I'm starting to feel like Little Nightmares is just an exaggerated lense of a child towards the real world,well we are playing as a child ingame. The dystopian environment doesn't help,but it does make sense

Mono was just a normal child having a hard time growing up and after he was left by his dear friend, he became a bitter lonely man

Thin Man may have just been chasing Mono so as to prevent "himself" from making the same mistake: befriending someone who'll leave him anyway, it's like how one wants to change the mistake of the past. It sounds selfish, but it makes sense,we all want to turn back time to fix our mistakes. But Thin Man was unsuccessful showing that once you did it, you can't turn your head back

Or simply he just want to kill his child self bcuz sometimes we feel that we were such a mistake as a child,so we want to erase it and vice versa Mono wanted to kill his adult self bcuz this isn't who he is, this "monster" isn't him so it's not wrong to kill him right?

After all the past is what makes the future,so even if Thin Man dies, Mono still lives. But it's interesting that without Mono, there's no Thin Man. So yeah you can say Thin Man was trying to erase himself in the worst way possible,by putting it all on himself I have a feeling that he blames everything on himself after enduring so much tragedies

It's like one big circle you can't escape,even if you tried to change the past,you cannot change the inevitable which is growing up

I just love how Little Nightmares have a great metaphor to the modern life,everything in the game feels surreal but similar bcuz you can see these things in real life:

-> Modern city, TVs,the villains are adults who have normal jobs like chefs,janitor,teacher,doctor,how modernity has made human so pale, they're so comfortable with the modern world,they became indifferent to others, since the comforts are already enough for them to live, why care of others?

The real world is no dream, it's a realistic nightmare, since the children are likely orphans,we can tell they are trying hard to survive in a cruel lonely world that doesn't treat them kindly I wouldn't be suprised if this is an approach on how actual orphans survive in the real world

That's why it's called Little Nightmares,the nightmares are the little things we see in real life. It may sounds simple but not so simple,cuz well the little things here can be the bare necessities to survive

If we go with all this I said,then it means the children were struggling so hard to even see another day,when they grow up,they just can't stop doing that, surviving while keeping themselves safe even if it costs them a happy emotional life. Which is the reality of some well when life dealt you the worst hand at birth,you probably won't have it easy even when you're adult and you're secure since you never know what'll happen when you let your guard down eventually they became like the "scary adults"

Yeah it's fucking sucks growing up,when puberty hit,we all understand 😭

That probably is the metaphor/meaning behind little nightmares. The song is truly sad, especially the way Mono just looks around and then sits quietly, upset and scared. The way the music still holds that melody, but it becomes heavier and angry, more distorted. Mono gains power as the Thin Man, but loses all of his innocence, perfectly mirroring what Little Nightmares is about. I really hope we see more of him in the future 😭😭

[stariwrites]

Father’s Day

Reader and Endeavor

Warnings: reader has a shitty dad and gets comforted by Endeavor, Angst, Fluff, Reader is GN

Author’s Note: Something that has been stewing around in my brain for sometime. This is self indulgent he’s a shitty horrible dad but he allows his kids to heal in this and if that’s not something I’ve wanted my whole life idk what is. The daddy issues really popped out in this

The sunset was beautiful from where you saw it on the rooftop. Oranges melted with purples and the clouds held a pink hue to them. It would’ve been more beautiful if you weren’t waiting for a text. For what felt like the thousand time you checked your phone.

Nothing.

You scoffed and shut your phone off once more. Of course, today out of all days he would ghost you. Figures.

Before you could revel in the bitter feelings of betrayal, a set of heavy footsteps began to approach you.

If it was a few months ago you might’ve jumped at the sound, but now? You weren’t fazed at all, especially because this was your chosen rooftop to meet up on during patrols.

“Thought you’d be with family, Endeavor.” You said keeping your attention on the sunset. It wasn’t until he took a seat next to you that you glanced over at him.

He was wearing his hero suit, his eyes scanned over the city while his mouth harbored a small frown.

“I figured the same with you.”

You shrugged. “It’s overrated.”

Endeavor studied you skeptically before looking at the sky.

“I had lunch with Fuyumi, but Natsuo, Touya and Shoto didn’t want to see me.” There was a waver in his voice that was painfully sad.

You looked over at him. “Did they tell you that?”

Endeavor nodded, continuing to observe the people below. “It’s just a day and besides I deserve a lot worse than this. It’s their choice.”

“What about you?” He asks.

“Hang on, I don’t think I follow. They said they didn’t want to see you on Father’s Day and you just let them?!”

Endeavor looked at you with furrowed brows. “Yes. I may have apologized but that doesn’t mean they have to forgive me.”

He let out a breath and continued.

“You know I wasn’t a good father. I wasn’t even a good man. I was horrible and I wish I could go back and change it, but I can’t. All I can do now is try to be better, but through that I also have to accept that my family, who I’ve hurt in more ways than I can even say, don’t have to give me another chance. It hurts, but if it’s better for them and makes them happy that’s all I want.”

Your hands shook as you gripped your phone.

Endeavor reached out a hand for you. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to upset you-“

Before he could touch your shoulder you jerked away, guilt rushed through you at the crestfallen look that overtook Enji’s face.

“You didn’t, believe me. And you’re right You sucked as a dad and I mean really sucked I don’t even think there’s enough words to describe how horrible you were-“

“The point?” Enji asked breaking you out of your ramble.

“Right. The point is after all of that you’re allowing your family to heal. I wish more than anything for my father to sit me down, look me in the eyes and say ‘I’m sorry for what I put you through I was wrong. And if you don’t forgive me that’s okay.’ But the only thing he can do is bail on me and not even send a text to let me know.”

Silence fell between the two of you leaving you to watch the sun disappear from the sky.

You expected Enji to cough awkwardly and leave muttering something about hero work, but instead he moved closer to you causing you to look over at him. The flames had been burnt out and now you were just looking at him not as the hero, but as Enji Todoroki the man who had fucked up on several occasions but kept trying anyway.

He looked you in the eyes and said “For what it’s worth I’m sorry about your father. You’re a wonderful person and for him to not even contact you shows he’s undeserving of your time. I hope you know that it isn’t your fault, it’s his.”

Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes. Before you knew what you were doing, you pulled Enji into a hug. His arms hovered in the air taken aback by the sudden action before his face softened and he held you back.

The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry he sucks,” said Enji causing you to laugh.

The two of you broke from the hug, you wiped your eyes with a small smile.

“Thanks Endeavor. You know for somebody who used to be so bad at interacting with people you’re surprisingly good.”

He nudged you playfully. “Watch it. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“It’s paid off, seriously though I needed that.”

He smiled. “Me too.”

Before the two of you could say anything else your stomach rumbled.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

You shook your head. “After I figured he’d ignore me for the day I pretty much booked it up here. Happens a lot.”

Enji pursed his lips into a thin line, saving that information for later. He stood and began to walk towards the door leading back into the building.

“Did you want to go out to eat somewhere? I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

You beamed and began to follow him inside. “I’d love to! There’s this new Raman place that opened, they have a pro hero theme and from what I’ve heard they say that even you can’t handle their super spicy Prominence Burn.”

Endeavor smirked. “We’ll have to see about that.”

You nodded. “Oh and Endeavor?”

He looked down at you.

“Happy Father’s Day.”

[belog-grada-crna-princeza]

3 am.

saw someone write you can be both cynical and happy and it did something to me. ive been fighting inside my own head between my little girl self who saw the world so full of wonder and romance and this bitter suspicious and guarded adult. (ive officially turned into my dad). and let's not forget the pissed off defiant and rebellious teenager i used to be.

i did an exercise with my therapist last week where i am supposed to integrate all these parts into myself and it was actually crazy. in the exercise you imagine this table where you invite anyone who wants to come in to sit at. four different versions of myself showed up plus the current adult one. there was me at five, at 10, at 15 and at 17. they all felt like strangers to each other. the 17 year old talked first, she was angry, she was untrusting and she was argumentative. but actually she was so fucking sad that i betrayed her and became everything she despises. she saw it as me leaving her, telling she's wrong like everyone else did, in order to be a part of their world. the 10 year old was desperate for my approval, she just wanted me to like her, to tell her she's good enough. she was sort of fascinated by who i was and she felt proud of me even though i know i didn't become so many of the things she wanted. it didn't seem important. she thought i was cool and wanted me to think she is cool too. the third one was the five year old. she was jealous that she was left to be third because she wanted to be first. she wanted me to leave the others because they're annoying and go play with her. then our time was up and i found it interesting how maybe the saddest, most hurt one, the 15 year old me didn't even get to speak. invisible, forgotten, unnoticed, as usual. my therapist commented how all these versions were sort of hostile and demanding towards me. i laughed and said yeah. what i didn't say was how hostile and demanding everyone in their lives had been towards them. i didn't mind handling their hostility and demands because it didn't happen often that they could express those things and be safe in doing so. i could handle the fucked up emotions and resentment. maybe the hardest was the adoration from the 10 year old which i felt i didn't deserve. that girl saw the best in everyone and i just felt i let her down.

but, going back to, can you be both cynical and happy. i'd say yes, because you are never only one thing anyway. we are all too complex. the denial of any part of ourselves just makes that part scream out that much more. you must try and see all of them and let them exist within you without swallowing your whole being. you must both let them free and keep them at bay. when you know your "demons", you know they are not demons at all. they are just the parts of you that need you the most. if you hate them, they rebel. if you accept them, they are the most loyal mf's you'll ever know.

maybe i'll stick it out with this therapist for a while, even though i am sort of annoyed by some things. maybe i am looking for a perfect human being or maybe i am lying to myself because i just don't have the energy to keep looking and be disappointed again. my old therapist was so validating and deep, i felt she could talk with me about things so few people could even comprehend. i have to say often i felt she really got my way of thinking. but then there was no real resolution of anything and i got tired of knowing everything i knew and nothing about what i should do with it all. this new woman isn't great at the talking part and i sometimes feel like i am speaking a different language than she is. but she loves the exercises and shit and it's actually been helpful every time. i feel different and changed on an emotional level when we do them. i wish i could combine my old therapist and the new one into one person lol. but maybe this is just a next step. maybe the final destination will be when i realize i am perfectly whole on my own. i don't even know what the goal of therapy is, if not going back to yourself and getting back all the parts of you that outside events have forced you to cut off. surely it's too megalomaniac to think you will ever be above needing others and i don't think that's what i even want to strive toward. i think we need to lean on others and have them lean on us.

i guess my goal is just that: wholeness. or getting closer to it. growing into my own skin instead of constantly wanting to jump out of it. seems like an alright goal, really.

[tributepordoom]

Where does the time go. I wish I could say I moved on. Things changed. I found someone new. Etc etc etc. but they haven’t. I still think about the last conversation we had. You said quite a bit and I didn’t really respond to it. Which probably made it seem I didn’t care or just wrote it all off like whatever right. But it wasn’t really like that. I took it all in. Had a response for everything. And wanted to beg you to stay. But. Then I just. Let you go. It’s not that I didn’t have answers or responses. I just didn’t want to hold you here any longer than you wanted to be. And you wanted to go. So why would I fight to keep you? Not saying I don’t regret not speaking up. Or trying to keep you in my life a few more days or minutes or even seconds. Maybe I convinced myself I’m the worst thing for you and being gone would be the best thing. I mean. It seems so. You’re with someone else. Have a heart and his initial in your bio. Seem happy. Kind of like everything is finally going your way and the depressive episodes and downward spirals have stopped. And I know I haven’t tried to break the silence or reach out to say anything. But idk. Why would I?

Not that I don’t want to. Not that I don’t crave your presence in my life. Sharing memes. Discussing lore. Talking games. Just burning hours away like they were seconds talking about nothing at all. Just happy to be conversing with you. I see all that. All the progress you’ve made without me. And every time I type something and before I ever hit send. I Just think about all that. And delete delete delete. I’m not wallowing in misery or anything. I tried moving on too but that ended. Like six months ago. I couldn’t make it work. We had our issues and parted amicably but deep down. I am not over you. I’m not bitter either. But everything I do you’re still there. You’re in all the music I listen to and everything I watch. Even crafting and hobbies. Would she like this. What would she think. I Can almost feel your gaze on me as I paint or color. That wonder in your stare that I pretended to not notice.

I’ve gone over a million times in my head how I’d be when I see you again. Which is coming up soon, and despite my best efforts have still yet to find a good enough reason to skip. Some days I think it’ll be fine. You’re over it all so I have to pretend to be as well. Hey. How’s it going. Glad it’s all going well for you. Great seeing. Yea we should catch up sometime knowing it’ll never happen. But knowing I’ll likely just keep my distance avoid it all costs and duck out of the event at the earliest time possible so you two can enjoy the reception and I don’t have to watch you smile dance and be happy in someone else’s arms. Which. I am happy for. That you are. But won’t lie and still wish it was with me. But that’s not our path is it. Not right now anyway. Maybe down the road things will change and stars will align. Wishful thinking probably. I just know how I feel. And while I won’t intrude on your new life, I can’t say I’m ready to let go yet either. Not in the vain hope of “oh she’s gonna wake up and choose ME” or anything. No. I hope first and foremost you choose yourself. And if I somehow someway fit into that somewhere then so be it. But I don’t want to let go of how I feel. For myself. It’s the realest thing I’ve felt in years. And I hope if we do cross paths again, intentionally and not because we happen to both be at the same wedding. You see me as I am. Taking care of myself. Working to be better. Not the sad shell you may remember. Diminished and broken as I was.

One thing you said was you never thought you deserved me. And I think that’s the most incorrect thing you’ve ever said. It’s I who never deserved you. Pushing you away and doing things to keep you away. Convincing myself it’s what was best when you were practically begging for us to just be together. Not letting you love me. Like I never deserved it. When you didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I’m very sorry for that. Easy to look back and hate myself for every misstep but it’s worse knowing when I’m making them as I’m making them and doing so anyway cause “she’s better off without me”. It was never my choice. And it’s not one I should have ever made for you either.

[fallout-lou-begas]

idk as a trans male i dont think that comic helps much. Idk who that man is anyway not that i want to be the perfect flowy fem boy but you know. i'm five foot tall and will never be able to pass probably even as im on T. And looking like a short pudgy kid isnt gonna help anything. Anyway i think its okay to have fears and to be worried and we need to care more about that?

i don't think you are wrong for wanting to pass. with the caveat that passing is not some permanent fixed state, but rather a circumstantial effect that either applies or not between specific individuals in specific situations, passing as not-trans can blanket a lot of trans people from day-to-day danger and harm. this is valuable.

however, my earnest response to you asking me this in my inbox is that it's sort of a non-sequitur because all i implied in the tag you're responding to is that i don't think it's healthy for people considering testosterone to talk themselves out of it because they're afraid of turning "ugly." and second, it's honestly very sad to me to hear that you may be considering only whether testosterone would make you pass, because i would like to ask if you have considered whether testosterone could make you happy? whether the effects of testosterone would be desirable to you regardless? maybe you have, but i do not know you and i cannot know you, anonymous question asker.

on this point i have no words to say that would be better than the ones from an essay by David Davis about what testosterone did for them, which I can't help but cite quite a large portion of. if this does not help you then i hope it helps anyone else who may read this, as i thought about ignoring this ask but then wondered how many others may feel the same way and could use a sincere response.

From "David Davis XII (2020)": It wasn’t until second puberty really kicked into gear this past January that I started to feel good. The things that I had been afraid of were coming to pass in and on my body and I was shocked, if you can believe it, to find them to be not only not horrifying but pleasurable. Where I was once almost hairless, follicles of white and fawn were sweeping up my thighs and toward my navel, feathering my forearms and knuckles and knees, like a time-lapse video of springtime shrouding a meadow. The ways that I weep and cum have evolved like Pokémon—similar enough to be recognizable, but different enough to merit, perhaps, new names. All my clothes feel new again, except for the shirts that no longer fit me.

Though there were aspects to these changes that were challenging, and even sad, I didn’t feel the pain of pointless suffering, which meant I could experience the sweetness along with the bitterness. For a few weeks in April, for example, my throat started to feel tight yet charged. As your voice deepens, there is a window of time where you can no longer hit the high notes, but the low ones haven’t shown up yet. I pictured my voice box like a brown paper package that had been shrunk down to two sizes too small. My access, such as it was, to Kate Bush, Christina Amphlett, and Donna Summer was gone forever. I miss it. There was even a day where I felt sad enough to cry over it. But I don’t regret that it had to happen, and I am starting to learn that growth is not a zero sum game.

It feels right, what’s happening to me, and long overdue. Over the past ten months, my sympathy for teenage cis boys, whose hair and horniness and hunger descend on the pre-androgenized body like a typewriter on paper—hard and fast, sometimes all at once and sometimes in tiny, concentrated stabs—has grown a thousandfold, for even as distressing as my first puberty was, it did not feel as dramatic as this one, though admittedly that could be because I don’t have to psychically leave my body to tolerate it. I feel a kinship with those boys and their zits and confusion and desires, reminding myself that when I am at a loss for what to do with my irritability, excitement, horniness (did I mention that?), sore throat, urge to move—to drive fast and punch walls, which as a grownup I can do with fewer consequences than teens can—that it’s because I am still getting used to a vitality I hadn’t felt since I was a little girl who wanted to be a little boy.

I have this memory from my freshman year of high school, clear as a bell in a quiet room, of seeing my reflection in the glass wall outside the girls’ lockers. I was in my very short cross-country uniform, so I could see my thighs, which I normally hid from myself and everyone else. They were becoming womanly, like everyone said they would, and I knew that they were not supposed to be like that, and it was unbearable, though of course I bore it. The knowledge that I was going the wrong way, known before I knew that trans people could do things to their bodies to correct them, or that people like that even existed, was one of the only bits of information my soupy, sedated mind could retain, pooled at the base of my brain like black ice, a sad and ominous awareness that someday something would have to be done about all this. At the time, I couldn’t imagine that something as anything other than drifting away in a cozy, well-insulated garage.

With my second puberty, the things I have spent my life fearing—having trained myself, as most queer people do, to hate and fear what I want—were finally happening to me. Even as I gave myself my weekly dose of testosterone cypionate, I was certain that my new form would be bad and hateful, that I would become more and more ugly with unnatural and unwelcome changes on my already unnatural and unwelcome body. It was hard for me to imagine looking uglier than I already did, but I knew it would happen. I had no point of reference for a puberty that wasn’t catastrophic, which should make clear, I hope, just how last-ditch HRT was for me.

Like other transsexuals, perhaps, I had to become one to truly understand how much I hated us. It took me a decade be graced with hormones, but I still believed, even if I was conscious enough of what that belief betrayed not to say it aloud, that I didn’t actually want what it would do to me. I’m going on HRT for the fat redistribution, I told myself. I’m not thrilled about the voice change or gaining (and losing) hair or the clit growth or the many real terrors of living as a transsexual among these cis demons, but what do I have to lose? I’ve already mutilated my body from years of self-harm and SM and surgery and substances and sickness, and anyway, I told myself, I’m already ugly and past 30. Who cares what I look like now? Who cares if this is the wrong choice?

The things I told myself about myself were the kind of things that I would never say to another trans person, especially another person on testosterone, and would recognize as virulently, violently transphobic were they coming from a cis person (which of course they do, all the time). But as HRT has continued to change me, I’ve begun to think like this less and less. T can’t take all the credit, because I’ve done a lot of work, over the past decade, to make my mind ready for this time. Still, where I was before, pleasure was almost impossible. I was hardly capable of it.

For the first time since my first puberty, I do not actively want to die. Limited though it may be by climate change, fascism, and family concerns that constrain how and where I live my life, I have begun to think about my future as mine, with curiosity and sometimes even anticipation. The great pleasure of medical transition has been an integration of pleasure itself into my life.

oh, and that man from the comic is Kim Kitsuragi from the video game Disco Elysium. he's just great. a great guy

[devilyn]

i want to tell you i love you | tsukishima kei

— alexa, play: i won’t let you feel alone again by demxntia

Every single time that I lay my eyes on your face I'm falling for your body and your mind too Forget the past we can leave it all behind you I won't let you feel alone again I won't let you feel alone again, no

— synopsis: sometimes, tsukki wished he could be more honest with himself. because if he had honestly told you how he felt about you, he wouldn’t be standing outside your front door wondering how he should beg you for forgiveness right now. — genre: angst, happy ending, implications of nsfw, tsukki’s pride again. — word count: 1.8k

He wondered if he should even be here, standing outside your door without calling you beforehand. He knew you had to leave in 10 minutes if you wanted to make it to lecture in time, and he knew if you saw him your day would most likely be ruined.

Yet he didn't move from his spot by your front door.

Did you even want to see him? Chances were low. If anything, him being here was more likely to hurt you. But without thinking, his feet had brought him to your doorstep. Softly, he cursed and ran his hand through his hair.

He never knew what to do when it came to you and your undefined relationship.

"What are we?" you finally asked the other night with a softness in your eyes he never wanted to let go. 

"Nothing," is what he instinctively said to keep the walls around his heart up, but he felt it throb in his chest when he saw the way your expression fell. 

He hated labels. He hated defining things. It's why the two of you lasted so long. But it was only natural that you'd want some sort of definition of what was happening between the two of you.

If his high school teammates saw him now, most of them would probably be disappointed in the type of man he became. In fact, they'd yell at him to treat you better. So what was stopping him?

Pride. It was always his pride, and he hated it.

He nearly jumped in surprise when he heard your front door click and then swing open. You let out a similar noise of shock before finally looking up and meeting his golden eyes. Your haggard expression managed to become even more tired than before just at the sight of his face, and suddenly, he regretted coming.

"Why…?" you trailed off, knowing he knew what you meant.

"...needed to see you," he answered honestly, though he almost regretted that too when your brows furrowed and your expression darkened.

"I have class," you responded coldly, stepping outside the warm comforts of your apartment to brave the winter air. Tsukishima could see your breath, and the way you shuddered at the cool wind that blew by.

"M'not here for sex," he murmured and you scoffed, checking the time on your phone.

"Yeah, I figured that. You never come anytime before 9pm for sex," you tilted your head. "In fact, you never come before 9pm at all."

He felt like he was going to collapse, but his feet stayed rooted to the ground as he gazed down at you with an unreadable expression. Despite that, your hard expression softened into one he couldn't understand. He watched you glance at your phone again and curse under your breath. You would be late if you didn't leave now.

"Look, Kei," you stated quickly. "I need to go or I'll be late to class."

"You can miss one lecture."

You rolled your eyes and took a step forward in an attempt to slip past him. He wasn't sure how, but he managed to pull his feet from their spot by your front door to plant himself in front of you instead, blocking you from taking any more than three steps away from your doormat. Your expression morphed into one of displeasure once again.

"Kei," you spoke in a warning tone. "I'm going to be late."

"I want to talk--"

"You had your chance to talk last week," you interrupted, voice calm. "So move out of my way, or I'll block your number and you definitely won't be able to talk to me then."

"Either way, we know you're going to end up blocking my number after today anyway," he retorted with narrowed eyes, as you desperately looked for a way around his unnecessarily tall frame. "so let's talk now."

You scoffed and threw your hands into the air in defeat. Quickly, you whirled back around and forcefully unlocked your front door before yanking it open. Before stepping inside, you turn your head to glare at him.

"This is your last chance, Tsukishima Kei." 

He flashed you a bitter smile before following you inside your familiar apartment.

"Excuse the mess," you mumble, dropping your bag by the couch as you head into the kitchen to grab him a beverage.

He closed the door behind him, the soft click of the lock sealing his fate. How would he go about this? It's not like he came here with a plan. He had acted on emotion alone, and somehow ended up here. Yet, as you said, this was his last chance to be honest with himself, and with you.

"I hope water's fine. I don't have anything else," your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He watched you toss used tissues and napkins from the coffee table into the trash, briefly wiping it down with a wet towel before setting his beverage on top.

He took in your apartment for the first time during the daylight. It was uncharacteristically messy, with an emptied bag of chips tossed aside and a blanket and pillow laying haphazardly on your only couch. Your shoes were kicked to the side, and some clothes that he deemed as your pajamas were on the ground by the couch. As if you knew he was observing the sight, you hurriedly cleaned up the area.

"You don't need to clean," he said softly, though you made a soft noise that sounded like a snort. Clearly, you weren't going to listen to him.

"Sit," you told him as you made your way back to your bedroom to toss everything onto your bed to clean later. "And think thoroughly about what your excuse will be."

He did as you told him, taking a seat comfortably on your couch. He's spent an excessive amount of time here with you, usually with you perched in his lap with your lips against his. You always had this soft giggle he adored, and would try to draw out of you by kissing areas on your neck he knew were ticklish. He would rest his head on your lap after a long day of classes, volleyball practice, and generally dealing with others. You would run your hand through his hair absentmindedly while watching a show on your laptop, and he would gaze up at your focused expression with stars in his eyes. Then, his hand would reach up and pull you down for a kiss, which would eventually lead to more. 

There were many nights where he'd let you force him into washing the sheets because of the mess the two of you made, and you insisted it had to be a team effort because it was mostly his fault for initiating in the first place. Still, the sight of you writhing beneath him with red cheeks pleading for more always made the laundry day worth it. Plus, the bright smile you wore watching him reluctantly pull the sheets off your bed made him feel things he couldn't put into words.

"I love you," Tsukishima whispered softly to himself, as he heard the quiet pattering of your feet become louder with each step as you approached the common area. That was the lame excuse he had come up with.

You took the spot on the other side of the couch, turning so you could face him.

"So?" you tilted your head, fingers messing around with your phone as a distraction. "What's the excuse you came up with that was good enough to force me to skip class?"

He was silent, eyes taking in every inch of your face and the small changes that occurred over the span of the two days he hadn't seen you.

The bags under your eyes were new, along with your chapped lips and the sadness in your irises. His hand reached forward and he inched closer to you, leaning in to cup your cheek gently. Though you allowed the action, you stiffened and never tore your gaze from his. His golden-brown eyes flickered to your lips, thumb brushing over them slowly.

"I'm sorry," he finally mumbled, eyes closing as he leaned in again to rest his forehead against yours.

"For what?" you inquired quietly. You were testing him, and he knew it. He deserved it, really.

"For saying you meant nothing to me when that obviously isn't true," Tsukishima still had his palm cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your supple skin as he sighed quietly. The two of you were silent for a bit before you spoke up again, your voice shaky.

"...what am I supposed to believe, Kei? That you really want to be around me for more than just sex, or are you cruel enough to lie to my face to keep me around as someone you can run to whenever you wanna fuck?"

"You're worth more than that," his voice was weak, and he suppressed his pride that scolded him for speaking his true feelings. "And I'm sorry that I made you feel like you weren't. I'm sorry that I disproved my actions with my words because I was scared of giving my heart to someone."

He finally opened his eyes, and his heart trembled at the sight of your teary expression.

"I can't forgive you so easily, you know," your fingers reached up to trace the outline of his jaw, and a pleased hum left his lips.

"I'll make it up to you, until you believe me," he placed his hand over yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips and pressing light kisses to your fingertips. Your gaze was soft, admiring the adoration in his eyes.

"I like you a lot," you whimpered weakly, and he couldn't help but smile. He leaned down to finally kiss you like he had been wanting to since he first saw you, his fingers intertwining with yours.

"I know," he mumbled against your lips, and you weakly smacked his shoulder to which he snickered.

"Do you like me…?" you asked quietly, voice even smaller than before, as if you were afraid of his answer.

"...yeah. A lot," he answered honestly, and his heart swelled up with joy at the sight of your teary smile. With a soft giggle that sounded like home to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of you to press your lips to his again.

One day, he'd be able to vocalize just how much he loved that laugh of yours. One day, he'd be able to tell you honestly just how much he loves you.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Prologue (OHTY)

Open Heart: Third Year Rewrite

Book: Open Heart, Book 3 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Words: 1K Premise: A new year, a new relationship, and a new Edenbrook. Will everything go as smoothly as they had planned?

Author’s Note: That summary sucks but this is my OHTY rewrite. I plan to make it dramatic. And angsty af. Here we go! Hope you like it. 

Prologue: His Beloved 

Caroline's eyes roamed the cavernous space, taking in the upgrades with something akin to wonder. Even from afar, he could see that sparkle in her eyes, the curiosity that was ever present whenever she beheld his newest innovation. It was enough to inspire anyone to conquer the world itself. 

Now more than ever, something burned in his stomach: The urge to hold her. The despair and rage at being unable to. 

As the seconds ticked by, his wife remained silent, nodding and humming here and there. Her soft, expressive brown eyes fell on the new kiosk at the reception desk and she quietly chuckled. A delicate, gloved hand hovered over the gleaming surface, almost as if she was afraid to touch it. 

“These are the same ones I suggested for the Princeton tech lab.” 

With the words, came a memory, unfurling before Leland's mind like a heavy mist. Their last trip to Paris, gazing at the Eiffel Tower from the patio of a small but elegant café. Caroline's hand in his from across the table as they talked about the Princeton project, her smile far more beautiful than the whole city in Springtime. 

“You thought of everything, my love.” Her eyes met his with such sadness, he was certain she remembered too. 

“We will be the prime research facility on the East Coast by the time we're done with the renovations,” he told her, willing her to understand he was doing everything to remedy their situation. 

At this, her smile turned genuine, shining with pride. “You're going to help so many people.”

Leland almost scoffed. He didn't give a damn about other people. 

Before he could blurt out the bitter words, however, Arthur, his driver, approached with a single nod at Caroline. She sighed, returning her gaze to Leland. 

“I must go if I am to board the train on time.”

“If you miss it, you can always just take the jet. It's much faster and comfortable anyway.”

Her soft laugh was the best thing he'd heard all day. 

“You know me, my love. I will enjoy the view of the countryside any opportunity I get.” And this time, when she paused, there was undeniable misery in the way her eyes shone. “Plus, you know I'm a nostalgic old woman. Train travel will always have a special place in my heart.”

They had met on a train for the first time many years ago. 

The words hurt more than the prospect of not seeing his wife for months. They had mutually decided that time in the serene seaside town of York would be beneficial for her. Rather, Caroline, unable to bear their forced distance much longer without breaking down into tears, decided this was the best temporary solution. 

“Shall I wait outside?” Arthur asked politely. 

With a start, Caroline seemed to wake from a reverie. “I'll be right out, Arthur.”

After the driver disappeared through the glass doors, Caroline turned to Leland, her body almost quivering with the restraint of keeping its distance. Instead of the customary kiss and hug goodbye, they simply gazed at one another, Caroline with palpable despair, Leland with renewed determination. 

“Goodbye, my love,” she murmured, the sound almost lost in the hubbub of the atrium. 

Leland heard it, though, as loud and final as the clashing of iron bells. 

“Goodbye, Caroline.”

Before long, she turned on her heel and walked out the doors with as much dignity as a broken heart allowed. 

Leland, meanwhile, remained fixed to the spot, watching her go. The pain of his own suffering was muted by the fierce rush of conviction. The determination to find a cure was the last tether holding him to sanity. 

Before he could move or even think about anything else, a note of delighted laughter echoed nearby. His eyes fell on a couple, traversing through the atrium hand in hand. The lively brunette gazed up at the tall and seemingly brooding man, her eyes sparkling with adoration. When the man finally submitted to her teasing , it was clear that he, too, was completely besotted by her. 

“... not a hospital. More like an Apple store,” she was saying. 

“What the hell is an Apple store?” 

“Oh, that's right. You're a sworn Android user, I forgot.”

Ethan Ramsey rolled his eyes. 

“They're phones, Lilac. The rivalry between the two is absurd when people use them equally to waste their lives away.”

This time, it was Lilac Allende who rolled her eyes, but not without a loving smile. “You're such a senior citizen sometimes.”

Ethan halted his steps at that proclamation, tugging at their joined hands and pulling her close to him. Lilac's small cry of surprise melted into one of knowing amusement under the intensity of his roguish smile. Without much preamble, he leaned in and whispered something that made her both blush and nod, impressed. 

“You're an incorrigible flirt, Ethan Ramsey,” she tried to admonish, but the effect was tarnished by how pleased she sounded. 

Ethan, undeterred, murmured something else into her ear. With a very serious expression, he pulled back to look into her face. There was no humor left in their expressions as they gazed at one another, only pure longing and affection. Then, he held the tip of her chin in gentle fingers, like the most delicate of songbirds, leaned in and kissed her. 

Leland glanced away, unwilling to accept there could be love and affection in the world. Teeth clenched, his eyes returned to the couple before he could avoid it. It was almost as if they were flaunting their romance for everyone, including Leland, to see. 

They couldn't do anything for Caroline and now they taunted him. 

The bitter burn of jealousy and rage pumped through his veins like a poison with every beat of his heart. 

That  the two doctors could touch and love so unabashedly was…unacceptable. 

“Have a good day,” Lilac whispered to her beloved before moving away. 

Their hands were still clasped and Ethan seemed unable to let her go. He tugged her again and Lilac looked at him curiously. The man looked on the verge of saying something, his throat working in the small pause. Then, appearing to change his mind, he kissed her forehead instead. 

Ethan Ramsey didn't have to say a goddamn thing for Leland to know. Leland had looked at his Caroline the same way before uttering the three words.

Love.

Ethan was in love with her. 

The solution struck Leland with such intensity that he remained immobile. It was so simple, he felt like a fool for not having thought of it before. At last, he knew of a surefire way to secure Caroline's cure. 

“Sir?” His assistant, Parker, enquired when Leland silently beckoned. 

“Have Ethan Ramsey meet me in my office this afternoon,” he commanded simply. “Make it clear the meeting is not optional.”

***

Author’s Note: The following chapters will be longer! I won’t have a posting schedule. I think I’ll just post these bad boys as they’re ready. Approximately weekly? Thank you so much for reading this far!

As a side note, this will be Ethan x MC centric. I will try to include other characters but I can’t promise you much. Also, I’ve kept some things from the original mess that is book 3, but the overall plot will differ. (Hey crazy idea but if any of my mutuals wants to write for other characters, hit me up?)

Chapter 1 coming soon!

*Tagging in a reblog*

[il-ballo-della-vita-maneskin]

Hiiii first, I'm totally in love with your blog...

Second I'm obsessed with that video of Damiano were he pulls vic all of the way of a motorcycle, could you do a imagine based in that and it turns in a argument with reader maybe fluff in the end just him being protective and all...

sorry it took me so long to write this, but here it finally is

i really hope this is somewhat what you wanted. i maybe have gone in a sliglty different direction, but i honestly couldn’t help myself, i really love mutual pinning, lol.

anyway, i hope you’ll like this, i had so much fun writing it and thanks for the request (if you have any more, send them in).

damiano david x reader

word count: 1802 (i think, lol)

warnings: mutual pinning, arguing, make out scene, cursing, maybe a little pathetic characters ng

gender of the reader: unspecified

~

You knew Damiano was next to you and that he was telling you something, but you didn’t pay much attention. You absentmindedly nodded your head while writing a message to Victoria to tell her you’ll be back soon.

It was already much later then you have expected it’ll be. Damiano and you had a meeting with some photographer, that will take pictures of the band. All of them were supposed to go, but none of them felt like going, so Vic asked you.

With your feelings for him clouding your thoughts and leaving you awake at night, you weren’t sure how clever of an idea was that. Though, it didn’t seem like he was enjoying it either. For quite some time now, he’s been acting distant, hasn’t really been talking to you. And it was the same way today. He barely said a word to… 

A hand grabbed your forearm and yanked you aside, just as you had sent a message to Vic, to tell her you’ll be back soon. You raised your head to see what’s happening and a motorcycle passed by you. Judging by its speed, you knew that if you weren’t pulled away, you’d most likely be hit.

“What in the…” you murmured and turned to see who saved you, only to be met with Damiano’s furious gaze.

“What were you thinking!” he shouted too loudly and you flinched. The night was so quiet, with the humming of the wind as the only source of sound, and his raised voice was almost like an explosion.

“Don’t yell,” you said and jerked your hand away. His eyes crossed your body and you unintentionally held your breath. You could hear your heart beating rapidly and your mouth got dry. You felt like kicking yourself. What about him forced your body to react this way, as its only wish was closeness to him, as it only yearned for his touch and it couldn’t focus on anything but his presence?

It was remarkably irritating, really.  

Especially now, when you didn’t even realize that he was talking to you, until his features changed into a frown.

“Are you even listening, Y/n?” he asked.

When he didn’t get a response, he heavily sighed and ran his hand through his hair. You wondered would it be like if you did the same thing.

“You are unfixable,” he said.

Thoughts about touching his hair vanished and your head suddenly cleared.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“It means, Y/n, that you can’t even not get yourself killed. You were on the middle of the fucking road! You could have died and you aren’t even bothered about it,” he said and got a step closer too you. Unlike usually, it didn’t wake a nauseous feeling, like someone removed earth under your feet. This time, it just angered you more. You knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t bottle up your feelings any more.

“Well, you wouldn’t be bothered even if that did happen, so you can stop already with that bullshit. Thank you for pulling me aside, but now we can just get back to the ignoring and not giving a fuck about each other, like recently. I assume you must miss it, after helping me and stuff. It’s a big deal, as you’re usually not able to be polite to me for a minute,” you said, surprised how steady and stony your voice sounded, despite the devouring ache in your chest. You wanted to hit him, push him, scream at him, pull him close, hold him, kiss him, but you stayed still.

“Oh, gladly! Tell me, do you want us to completely ignore each other despite being friends once, like you did for last couple of months, or do you think we could actually explain what our fucking problem is?” he said and raised his eyebrows at you mockingly.

“Don’t even try,” you said through gritted teeth. “It was you who stopped talking to me, you who pretended I’m not in the room and you who killed our friendship. Don’t blame it on me.”

He was dangerously close to you now and your brain only managed to process it when his breath fanned over your face. The realization left you breathless. It was like you couldn’t inhale properly and it made your head spin.

“Well, I do. I blame it on you, Y/n. If you weren’t- fuck,” he cut himself off and took a step back, his eyes purposely not meeting yours.

Despite air absence, you managed to crook out “What? If I weren’t what?”

Your feet twitched, begging you to run away. The way street illuminated his features, made his skin glow almost an ethereal shine and brought warmth and depth into his eyes seemed like too much. After having him so close, no matter that it was only due to a fight, you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You needed to leave. Or you might do things you’ll regret later.

Though, your curiosity got the best of you, as it’s prone to do.

“Damiano? If I weren’t so what?” you said and now it was you who got dangerously close. You pulled his shoulder to force him to face you. When he turned, you were only inches away, but you managed to disregard the throbbing pain in your heart. If only you could lean a little closer…

“Stupid. That fucking motorcycle almost hit you! You were walking on the middle of the roadway. It could have hit you,” he first raised his voice, but then it got quieter. You could swear his face softened, but then every trace of that disappeared again.

“What were you fucking thinking? If you didn’t focus all your attention to sending messages, you would’ve heard it. Or heard me when i was calling you.”

You didn’t know how to answer him. You were already tired and this fight seemed needless.

“Look, Damiano. Can we just stop now? I was reckless, I suppose, alright. Thanks for not letting a motorcycle kill me, if that’s what you want to hear. Can we just go-“ you started but was cut off by Damiano:
“That’s not what I want to hear! How can’t you see it, Y/n?” he said and only then have you realized how tired he looked. And somehow… sad.

Last few months, something in your relationship with Damiano changed. There was that constant tension when the two of you were in the room. Gradually, you grew apart. And you hated that. It might would’ve been easier for you to bury your uninvited feelings for him, but you loved Damiano. He was your close friend and you didn’t want to lose him.

You blamed him for fall of your friendship, for the hole he left in your heart, yet it never occurred to you that it might be just as hard for him. You knew friendships sometimes fade and there in no one to blame for that. But you refused to let it happen with you and Damiano. Even if you needed to sacrifice your own feelings. Maybe, after some time, they will disappear.

“I don’t want you to thank me. I just… be more careful. I- “but he stopped. You wanted to urge him to continue. But you resisted.

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s just get back.”

You needed to fight the tears. It felt so bitter, saying goodbye. But it was better to part from your emotions than from him, right?

He grabbed your hand. You turned your head to face him again. His scent was so familiar, every little part of his face you knew better than your own. His dark eyes looked at yours, but something in them changed. His gaze wasn’t angry anymore, but some new determination found its way into it.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke quietly, almost whispered. A sad smile formed on his lips, as if every word hurt him. “I just… I don’t want you to get hurt. I got scared and… I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want you to be hit by a motorcycle.”

“I don’t want you to be hit by a motorcycle either,” you said, before you could stop yourself. You wondered why did you say something so stupid, even though it was true, but it was too late. Though, on your surprise, he lowly chuckled.

The sound was so beautiful it put you in a daze, but you soon joined him. You were laughing for some time, the sound spreading through the chilly air of the night and filling the empty street. Though, he got serious again.

“But I really am sorry, Y/n. For acting the way I did for last few months. I wish I could say I didn’t mean to push you away, but that’s exactly what I wanted. I- “

The said smile stretched his lips again. It didn’t fit him. You preferred his laughter from few moments ago.

“I suppose I care about motorcycle not hitting you more than as for the other people.”

Your heart threatened to burst out of your chest.

It maybe didn’t mean anything, of course. You were close friends, that was probably what he implied to.

Though, you could wait no longer to find out.

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

But he didn’t kiss you back.  

You could feel something inside of you breaking as you backed away quickly, and you knew it was something vital. You fucked this up, you just ruined…

His hands grabbed your face and pulled you to him. Your lips collided with such force it made you lose your balance. But he held you tight and you placed your arms around your neck, as in wish to pull him closer, though it was impossible.

His lips tasted of cigarettes and whiskey he had at the meeting with the photographer, his tongue fought for the dominance with your own. Your teeth clashed in the kiss so passionate and hungry, yet capable of showing how much you needed each other, to make known all of your hidden wishes and pains.

His fingers pressed your waist, so hardly you were sure you’ll wake up with bruises in the morning. Yours were pulling at his hair, which made him shiver and deepen the kiss even more. You could feel his heart beat and chest heavily ascending and descending against yours.

You slowly dragged your fingers on the back of his neck and into his t-shirt, but you needed to pull apart when you lost your breath.

It spun in front of your eyes and you couldn’t even see him clearly. But you could very well see the grin on his face and it brought the alike on your face.

You placed your head in the crook of his neck. His arms embraced you and he was about to say something when your phone buzzed.

The message was from Victoria: You will come back soon, huh? Well, I guess you and Damiano are busy

i know this went in quite different direction, but i hope you still like it<3

Love, Ri✨

P.S. imagine requests are open, so feel free to send requests, i really like getting them (and sorry if it takes me a while to answer to you!)

[davenderwolf]

Plants VS. Zombies Humanized A humanization for both Peashooter and Sunflower. Notes: -All of these humanized plants live in a universe that has a few differences than ours, example is that there was another Cold War albeit nothing worldwide and a bit literal and, oh, there's also magic. -I humanize these plants in my way, My Style. -Almost all of these humanized plants live in the same town the original game takes place, Neighborville, and all present events take place in 2009.  What that means is that, Penny and Sunni currently are not 31 yet.

Penny P. Shoodor (Transwoman) . Birthdate: May 05, 1991  American, with a bit of egyptian origin.

Personality: Mostly normal, sometimes socially anxious. Bio: Just an ordinary vegetarian suburban girl who loves music and lives in the suburban side of Neighborville.  Her father was a heroic soldier who prevented the freezing of Neighborville in 1991.  Unfortunately, her father, Gary, died heroically after preventing the freezing machine from making Neighborville a frozen wasteland, right before Penny's birth too.  After her birth, Penny, originally named Peter, had a normal chiildhood.  That is until when she transitioned from a boy to a girl at the age of 12.  At first, she hated the change, but with the help from her family and the local Hawaiian man named Keahi, she accepted her new gender.  Right after Penny's gender change is when she met Sunni.  Up to this moment, Penny did not have many friends, especially after her transition, so Sunni was a needed friend to her.  However, this was temporary as Sunni traveled to Mexico so that her auntie can take care of her after her mother passed away.  Penny felt sad, but Sunni did came back when she was 17.  After that, Penny had a usually normal life, with some unorthodox events happening.

Sunni Kim de la Cruz . Birthdate: May 06, 1991

South-Korean x Mexican, with a bit of Japanese origin.

Personality: Euphoric/Happy, loves to smile a lot, hates to frown Bio: A daughter made from the love of a South Korean woman and a Hispanic man, she was a happy child.  She got this from her mother, who was a bit more happier than Sunni.  Sunni's twin sisters and father, however, are the opposite.  Her twin sisters are always grumpy and would fight each other, while her father is a bit apathetic towards anything.  Sunni still had a happy childhood, that is until her mother was diagnosed with Tuberculosis when Sunni was 12.  Sunni's mother owned a flower shop, so Sunni used the money for her mother's treatment.  Unfortunately, her mother passed away anyways.  To make things worse, her father flew out, never to be seen again.  This understandably left a huge hole in Sunni's broken heart, and she could not smile like she used to.  Eventually, she decided to never forget her mother by smiling almost all the time.  Now, Sunni runs her mother's flower shop, and she may have a bit of a relationship with Penny, though neither of them tried to tell their feelings to each other.

Notes:

*Penny can't do more than two push ups.

*Both Penny's family and Sunni's family are catholic

*Penny has an older brother named Ryder, older twins named Pat and Split, and younger triplets named Peana, Theor, Teri.

*Sunni has older twin sisters named Tinia and Winia. They were very bitter to each other.

*Yes, they look cute together. *Fanart is definitely appreciated, as long as you credit me!

[esther-dot]

Wasn't Tyrion had been in relationship with Shae when he married to Sansa in books like show? Yet he felt victim because Shae 'betrayed' him but he could lust after both Sansa and Shae. He was angry that Sansa is not committed to relationship but had no problems in having sex with other girls. He hold power over both of them and he knew that. Yet he plays pitty party. Also he knew his father role in destroying Tysha, Shae and Sansa lives.

Yes, he was involved with Shae in both, but there are differences in characterization which change the impression of their relationship, imo.

I thought it was pretty clear Shae was doing what she needed to do to survive in the books, and Tyrion didn’t realize that. I thought his desire to send her away felt like it was for her safety, but (if I’m remembering correctly) the show made it more questionable/hinted that it might have been about the difficulty of having Shae around when he was marrying someone else. In the show, Shae seems to genuinely care about him, but Tyrion chooses to stay in KL because he enjoys the game, so when he turns around and feels betrayed that she spoke against him/sleeps with his father, it feels completely out of touch with the position he chose to put her in. And, to me, in the show, theirs was a real, mutual, relationship, so Shae had a reason to feel betrayed by his marriage because it forced her into the role of whore again, when, that really wasn't her relationship before. I think for book Shae, it was far more practical considerations. She believed the only way to be safe/taken care of was to be with a man or he would lose interest. She has a line about impregnating Sansa but Tyrion still coming back to her that gave me the impression. I sometimes accidentally mishmash book and show stuff, so I’m trying to be careful about what was what!

Anyway, the fact is, Tyrion didn't have to marry Sansa. I think in the show they made it feel like he didn't have as much of a choice as he did in the books (but again, foggy memory). In the books, Tywin would have married Sansa off to someone else, he would have married Tyrion off to someone else, but Tyrion chose to accept because he was tempted by Winterfell and then tempted by Sansa herself. Sansa and Shae, not Tyrion, are the ones who didn't have a choice. So, if, unlike D&D (who took Tyrion's side), we take a more balanced view, we can see that there are layers here.

We have a victimized person (Tyrion) who turns around and victimizes others. I think we’re meant to understand that because Tyrion has been so mistreated, because he has suffered so, he has good reason to feel wronged by his family/the world and no matter what he tells himself about why Sansa couldn’t love him (her being a Stark, him a Lannister) he can’t get over his bitterness because he has been unfairly hated/treated before. Cumulative effect. In fact, when he kills Shae in the books, to me it felt like that was more about his dad than her. He learns the truth about Tysha, we learn that he had raped her, and here, instead of that making him have any sympathy for people caught up in his father’s machinations, he immediately murders Shae. So you’re definitely right that there is something here about how his father pulls these women into this mess and then they suffer at Tyrion’s hands.

And, worryingly, Tyrion does associate all of these women:

""She was Robert's," Tyrion said bitterly. "That was enough for Cersei, it would seem."

"Yes. It is grievous sad. I must blame myself for the poor sweet babe and her mother, who was so young and loved the king."

"Did she?" Tyrion had never seen the dead girl's face, but in his mind she was Shae and Tysha both." (ACOK, Tyrion II)

and

"Was she your wife? She … she was very beautiful …"

And false. Sansa, Shae, all my women … Tysha was the only one who ever loved me. (ADWD, Tyrion IX)

@agentrouka-blog has speculated about Tysha’s fate here, and the way Tyrion grouped Shae and Tysha and then lumps Sansa and Shae together...I worry fam, I worry! Especially because, Shae and Sansa’s response to him is described in the exact same way:

For a time she said nothing at all. Tyrion tried to speak of other things, but he met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he'd once walked in the north. (ASOS, Tyrion II)

and

He wanted to reach her, to break through the armor of her courtesy. Was that what made him speak? Or just the need to distract himself from the fullness in his bladder?[...]Gently, he spoke of Braavos, and met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he had walked once in the north. It made him weary. Then and now. (ASOS, Tyrion VIII)

Even knowing Shae is a whore, referring to her that way, using her as such, not giving her more, and even knowing how his father uses people, Tyrion has no mercy for her. Even knowing what his father/his family has done to Sansa, Tyrion still resents her for not opening up to him, not wanting him, and then escaping when she had the chance. He thinks Sansa is “false” when Sansa had been forced to marry him, as if he had a right to her love.

I didn’t read the story thinking this, but it occurs to me that Dany and Tyrion both desperately want love. They love their first spouses, they possibly both killed them (see that link to agentrouka’s post), they have political marriages while carrying on affairs with someone else. Idk, I don’t really have anything on that, it’s just odd.

I think the way Tyrion was made to feel unlovable as a child translates into how he resents that he is unloved by these women even though, they aren’t wronging him the way he was wronged by others. There are genuine reasons to pity him, but he is so lost in the trauma of what he experienced, he doesn’t see how they are to be pitied too, and if he had been able to step outside of himself, his own emotions for a moment, he could understand. But, he can’t, so he wrongs Sansa in a way no one could reasonably expect her to forgive (marrying her to take Winterfell/the North from her family), and he murders Shae. And yet, to him, he is still the victim.

[lebrookestore]

tape 5: play

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x reader

Themes: angst, ex! au, college-ish au, small town au. It goes back and forth a lot

Warnings: heavy angst, bittersweet ending, swearing, its very sad, chenle is a jerk

Wc: 6k

Playlist: 2 kids by Taemin, Gone by Rosé, Instagram by Dean, I still do by Why Don’t We, Believed by Lauv

Taglist: @danishmiilk @channoticedmeuwu @chicksung @1-800-seo @blueprint-han @jenosslut @cupidluvstarrz @kkakkdugi @sweetlyjaem @vera-liscious @leetaeyonglover @kunrengui @unknown5tar @kisshim @intokook @mrkcore @coco-riki

Summary: A year after your boyfriend moved away, you find yourself sitting in your room with five tapes, earphones, a cassette player and what you hoped, and feared, was closure.

Authors Note: hello! this fic was supposed to be a small blurb but then i got inspired and lo and behold its a full fledged fic! I can’t believe I wrote this in two days sdfjfjkfjk. Feedback would be very much appreciated for this, since I’ve never written anything like this before ;-;

Midtown, almost got a place out of midtown, Instead I took a plane out of this town, And missed out on us 

~

It was a sunny Saturday morning, as you pulled into your driveway, coming back from the store. 

Parking the car and getting the bags, you walked up to the door, knocking it and waiting. You were met with your mother’s smiling face as she took one of the bags of groceries from you.

You lived in a small sleepy town, and attended the college there as well, which meant you still stayed with your parents. You were fine with that, you liked living there, and you could forgo the stress and anxiety of having to re adjust to a new place.

This was your home. It always had been.

Of course, you had been on holidays to other places, you had visited the other town, but when it came to it, you had always found yourself back where you started. There was no other place for you, there never would be.

It was the truth, but it held something bitter.

Then again, you had enough going on already, with being in your freshman year, straight out of high school, college life was very different. You had been to a total of two parties so far, courtesy of your best friend— Lia— dragging you with her. 

You had enjoyed them, but it wasn’t something you would voluntarily participate in again.

The workload was something that had definitely changed, bogged down with mandatory lectures and assignments, tests popping up like a bad smell, you had more than enough to occupy you.

“Something has arrived for you!” Your mother said, almost excitedly, “It’s on the table.”

You helped her put away the groceries, walking to your living room, eyes falling on the package sitting on the table. It was somewhat shabbily wrapped, with tape haphazardly stuck on it to keep it together, and a tag pasted on the top.

Picking it up, you pass it from your right hand to your left, feeling its weight, reading the little tag. It held your address, your name and another name you hadn’t seen in almost a year.

Your mind ran at a hundred miles per minute, wondering why it was here, why his name was on it. It made no sense to you.

“Darling? Are you okay?”

Your mothers voice snapped out of your reverie, nodding slowly, “I’ll be in my room, finishing off a project”, you said carefully, trying not to show any sort of emotion as you climbed up the stairs of your house, two at a time, making sure not to drop the package.

Closing the door, you place it on your bed, reading over the tag again, a bitter taste filling your mouth. A name you hadn’t thought of in a year coming back now. It was so random, so absolutely unnecessary.

You curled your fingers around the messy brown paper, tearing it open as your mind reeled. The crackling sound filled the silence as the contents of it make itself known to you.

A shoebox.

It’s dusty, a dark blue colour with a line of red running at its side. There were two holes on either end, lined with metal piping and you could just about make out the nike symbol on the top. You brushed your hand over it, the dust coming off easily and sticking to your fingers.

Why would he send you this?

His name sticks out on the tag like a sore thumb, reminding you of what you lost, mocking you. Always content with where you are, hmm? His voice comes back, as clear as day. It’s as if he’s standing there, giving you his chesire cat grin as he spoke the words.

Zhong Chenle.

Lifting the lid off the box, you’re thrown into confusion. A cassette player, a pair of earphones, and five tapes. Picking up the player, you smile briefly at the dramatic set up. He could’ve called you, or sent a message, so why did he take the pains of sending you something as old and unnecessary as this?

Then again, it had been a year since he stopped picking up your calls, since you stopped trying to call him.  A year since all contact had been cut off, as if he had never existed in the first place.

Sometimes you wondered if Chenle had been a hallucination. An imaginary friend.

Friend.

The questions filter in. Why? It had been a year, so why had he sent you this now? You had finally told yourself you were over it, that you didn’t need an answer, but somehow as soon as you did that, you found yourself sitting in your room on your bed with what could be it.

The tapes were numbered in permanent marker in his messy handwriting, from one to five, indicating the order in which they were to be listened to in. You picked up the first, slotting it in the player and waiting.

You didn’t know what you were waiting for.

You pressed play. There was crackling, but only for a moment, until  it went silent. Maybe this was all a mistake, maybe this wasn’t even happening. Maybe-

i] tape 1: you deserve to hate me

Hey

His voice cut through your spiraling thoughts as you froze in place. He sounded the same as you last heard him, a little muffled due to the recording but the same. At the same time he sounded like a stranger. There was silence for a moment again, before he spoke up.

This is stupid isn’t it?

You felt the urge to answer, but your mouth went dry. It had been so, so long, and even though you had adequate time to get over him, it suddenly felt as if you were treading unfamiliar territory once again. 

I-I don’t know why I’m doing this. I think it’s because I feel so horrible, I need an outlet. I guess speaking it into existence and recording it makes is my outlet. Making it all real.

But that’s fucking terrifying.

You don’t think you’re following, confused once again. 

Y/n

You hear him take a deep breath right after your name, and it sends a chill down your spine, hearing him say your name once again. You had almost forgotten how it sounded.

I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, or listen to it. If you don’t I’ll actually be glad. You don’t deserve to, I’ve been a jerk to you. I’m sorry. I hope you hate me, I definitely deserve it.

I’m moving in two months.

The realization hits you, this had been recorded a year ago as well, two months before he left without a word or warning. It was old, he was here when he recorded it.

You didn’t quiet know how you felt, not yet anyways.

And you won’t know until I’m gone.

I’m moving to Korea, and I refuse to tell you, even if it makes me the bad guy, even if it feels worse, because that’s my dream. 

I got signed by a record label after sending them that demo I did —remember it? We both went to the studio together, you listening outside as I sang. You were right by my side, all the time.

Except now when I record this, except when I leave. 

I refuse to tell you, because the moment I do I know it’ll be real, realer than it is now as I say it. I don’t want to see the look on your face when I say I’m going, I know it’ll make me want to stay, but I don’t want to stay.

You knew exactly what he was talking about, you could recollect that day clearly. There was a small studio a little outside the town. That day, he had booked it for two hours to record a demo, his singing mentor with him and you tagging along.

It had always been like that, the two of you against the world, until, of course he left.

I physically can’t stay, I hate it here Y/n. It’s not for me, I want to get out, that had always been the plan. I want to get out and be free, I want to achieve my dreams. Maybe it’s selfish, maybe I don’t deserve a minute more of your time, but I want it all.

That’s why I’m not going to tell you —so I can have it all, at least until I don’t have you.

But you, you don’t deserve this, do you? Of course you don’t, but I suppose you’re the one with the shitty luck, you’re the one who ended up with me and now I’m going to hurt you. 

He laughs a dry, breathy laugh. It was half hearted, as if he was trying to get himself to believe the situation was funny. 

It’s not your fault I-fuck I’m sorry.

You heard a click and the tape died off, he had stopped recording there. The first tape was finished, and honestly, you didn’t know how to react. One part of you wanted to feel nothing, you wanted to put the player and the five tapes back into the box and send them away, or lock them in your closet to never find them again.

But the other part of you wanted to know more. You wanted to know how he felt, what went through his mind during that time. You wanted to know just how you lost Chenle, the first boy you ever loved.

Suddenly you felt overwhelmed, vulnerable almost. It was as if someone had opened up an old wound and left it open.

You got to your feet abruptly, pulling the earphones from your ears and dropping them on your bed, taking a step away and blinking rapidly. You couldn’t get caught up in the past, you couldn’t put yourself through that again.

But it was hard when the past was in your present.

Wasted, and all of my regret, I can taste it, If I had a time-machine, I would take it, And make it back to us

~

That night you couldn’t sleep.

The box sat on your desk, right next to your laptop, staring at you. You turned around on your bed, looking the other way, only to be met with the white of the walls.

You never liked the colour white.

It was too plain, too open for interpretation. It never had a solid answer. You liked stability, you wanted something permanent. You were the type of person that needed that reassurance.

Perhaps that’s why you were happy where you were, you didn’t find the appeal in starting over, because that meant nothing was certain. You stayed where you were because everything was already laid out for you.

It was like a colouring book in your little town, the lines all set out, everything drawn for you. Change meant you had to sketch everything from scratch. What if you messed up?

Needless to say, it was a good thing you weren’t an art major.

“This is ridiculous”, you whispered to yourself, sighing at the fact that you were now talking to yourself. You rolled over so that you were lying on your back, staring at the ceiling. The glow in the dark stars shone with their dull green light. You remember the day you had put them up, with Chenle.

You shared a lot of memories with him.

“Fucking hell”, you hissed, sitting up, swinging your legs off the edge of your bed and walking to your desk, sitting on the chair. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you picked up the second tape, inserting it in the player and putting the earphones on, waiting for it to begin.

ii] tape 2: milk before cereal

I know I’m making some terrible decisions, I really do, but if there’s one thing I stand by, its the fact that milk definitely goes before the cereal.

Why am I talking about this?

Well, because today you came over, Y/n, you came over and the two of us were watching a movie, and in the middle of it, you decided you wanted to have cereal, specifically frosted flakes.

So what do we do? We have cereal because I can’t say no to you. You’re welcome by the way, honestly, I deserve the boyfriend of the year award.

A moment of silence.

No I don’t. I really don’t.

You bit your lower lip, shutting your eyes. It was the way he switched, the way his demeanor changes so suddenly that made you want to scream. Sometimes it felt like he was telling a story, one you knew and loved.

Only for the next moment to bring you down to reality, reminding you that all stories don't have happy endings.

Anyways, we got the cereal and you objected when I put the milk first, saying that it was wrong, but how? In what way? Here me out Y/n, I shall tell you why I’m right, even If I’m not actually talking to you.

You couldn’t help but scoff at this, shaking your head at Chenle. He had always had a flair for being dramatic in the littlest ways possible. It was endearing.

Putting the cereal first means it sits in the milk for longer! If you put the cereal last, you can have it crunchy! Isn’t that ten times better? Unless you’re one of the devils spawn and like soggy cereal. If so I’m hypothetically breaking up with you right here right now.

Ah...bad wording. I keep forgetting I have to break up with you. I don’t want to, is that selfish?

You deserve the truth, if only I was strong enough to give it to you. Staying silent is so much easier.

It’s not lying, not completely anyways. I’m not lying if I don’t tell you at all. I suppose it’s a half truth then, with the truth hidden in plain sight. 

*click*

Lying. That’s what he did, even though he spent the last few minutes of the tape trying to justify it, he lied. He trampled all over your heart without a single warning.

You had trusted Chenle, having known him since you were thirteen. He had completely destroyed that trust. Something like that couldn’t be fixed so easily, not even if he had sent you these tapes.

Then again, you didn’t know why he sent them.

You retreated to your bed, turning away from the tapes, the words and memories they held, facing white once again.

You had met Chenle when the two of you were thirteen, in eight grade math. The boy was failing the class, and one day you found him sitting early morning in class, with his head in his hands as he groaned over some sort of equation.

You had offered to help, and the smile he gave was the brightest one you had ever seen, he was practically grinning from ear to ear. That was the beginning of your friendship, and the two of you were inseperable.

Ninth grade it was confirmed that the two of you were best friends, sitting together, complaining about teachers together, going places together so your parents didn’t need to tag along.

In your last year of high school the two of you started dating, and when you had told your parents, they were ecstatic, confessing they had always thought the two of you would end up together.

He was always there for you, every time you needed him. You could give him a call and he would be outside your door. If you were feeling insecure or scared, he was always there to hype you up.

You had been best friends before, you were lovers then, and it was amazing. You loved everything about being with Chenle. You loved everything about him, from his toothy grin to his obnoxiously loud laugh.

You loved the way his eyes sparkled when he had an idea (which, for the most part, were absolutely terrible. Needless to say the two of you got in trouble a lot), when he sang for you when you stayed over, the way he would always make sure you were never cold.

You loved him.

It was written in the stars, you were meant to be, it was the perfect combination. Chenle was the right person for you- the perfect person.

A year later you woke up with him gone, no texts, no warnings. He had just gone, leaving you alone.

Right person, wrong time.

Monday came around sooner than you thought it would, the weekend passing in a blur as you walked out of your first class, spotting Lia leaning against the wall outside your class, scrolling through something on her phone.

She was an exchange student, not originally from your town, but had fit right in. Sometimes you wished you could be like that.

“Oh! You’re out! Listen, there’s a party on Friday and you’re coming with me”, she stated. It wasn’t a request, it was a fact, you were to go with her. In her own words, ‘if I didn’t exist you’d probably have no social life.’

To be fair, she wasn’t wrong.

You nodded defeatedly, walking with her down the hallway, “I assume you want to go because of the cute new guy?”

She glared, but didn’t refute your accusation, “His name is Mark”, she said, “And that is none of your business.”

You snickered, “Oh it so is, you like him don’t you? Is this going to be another one of your crushes?”

Lia was notorious for having a new crush almost every week, being a very flighty person, her mind changed before you could even say her name. This was a bit of a problem, considering you went to her for advice a lot.

Her indecisive nature was not the best for that.

She rolled her eyes at this, “He’s cute, why not? Wonder if I can get him to dance with me at the party. You’re going to be my hype woman-”

“And the sober buddy?”

Lia ignored that.

“Also there’s this new singer”, she said, handing you one of her earbuds, “apparently he came from here!”

Taking one of the earbuds, you were hit with a familiar voice. It sounded amazing honestly, catchy, everything a song needed, but it was the voice that hit you. You didn’t even need to ask Lia for the singer, swallowing the lump in your throat and glancing at her phone, which confirmed your suspicions.

Filling with some sort of dread, your hands immediately went to hold your hand, specifically the bottom where the cassette player and the tapes were. You had been carrying them around with you, as if scared they would disappear if you left them alone.

“Isn’t he good?”

You nodded, not daring to answer as you bit your lower lip, “Hey Lili, I need to use the washroom so see ya later”, you said, handing her the earbud and taking off in the other direction, pushing open the doors to the washroom and getting into one of the stalls.

You had stalled listening to the next tape all Sunday, you didn’t even know why, but hearing him sing, that fact that he had actually made it, it struck something in you. You wanted to feel proud of him, but all you felt was bitter.

Was it a coincidence that this new singer had come out- Chenle himself- right when you received the tapes?

Pushing the top of the toilet down, you took a seat, taking the player out and plugging in, you pressed play for the third tape, waiting for it to begin playing.

tape iii] ill miss our dates

Remember when we went for that field trip? Ninth grade? We sat in the back of the bus together avoiding the stares of our teachers when they told us to sit down?

Then they pulled us apart? Yeah, mean fuckers.

Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about, I just felt like reminiscing for a sec there, but today we went of a date! Well, I mean we got ice cream and then went to the park, but hey, it was fun.

You smiled. He had always jumped from one topic to another without any meaning to either. Sometimes it was a frustrating habit, (you had been on the receiving end of these useless conversations several times, which ended with you glaring at him exasperatedly), but for the most part, extremely comical.

I’m going to miss that. I’m going to miss you. Your little smile — have I ever told you just how pretty your smile is? Your eyes light up and crinkle at the sides and its something I don’t think I’ll ever forget, even when I’m gone. 

You clutched the cassette player, marveling at the irony. He was talking about your smile, but why did you want to cry?

It’s a month left now, and I want to make the most of it. Tomorrow I’m taking you to the amusement part and then next week I’m surprising you with dinner. I guess doing things for you —for us — makes me feel better, like I’m compensating.

You deserve the world Y/n, and I want to see that world while you’re happy where you are.

You don’t deserve having to deal with me.

*click*

Your eyes burned, because you remembered each of those events. You had been so happy, so overjoyed at them. They burned with tears because there it was again, that reminder that you were destined to be stuck right where you were, because you were that idiot who was content.

But if someone, anyone, asked you at that very moment if you were happy, the answer would’ve been an outright no.

1 YEAR AGO

~

“Hey Chenle?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you want to leave?”

The boy thought about this for a second, before smiling wistfully, “Don’t you want to know how it is outside home?”

“But everything I need is here.”

Your eyes held a question, you were genuinely baffled by his reasoning, the way he was so stuck of getting out. You studied your bewildered expression, shaking his head. “You’re lucky”, he said finally, “You know exactly what you want.”

“Of course I don’t, but I know what I need Chenle, and that’s all around me.”

He shook away his other thoughts, “Hey maybe we’ll go exploring the world together some day. 

You blinked, “You want me there with you?”

He nodded, grinning widely, “I want to take you along, Imagine, it’ll be fucking awesome, and hey this time there will be no teachers to separate us. We can even stand in the bus-if we’re taking a bus, that it.”

You laughed, “Maybe”, you mused, looking back down at your phone, “While I don’t exactly see the appeal, it would be fun to be with you.”

Chenle’s smile faltered, but he didn’t let it fall completely, wrapping his arms around you and sighing, closing his eyes and whispering something just loud enough for you to hear.

“Maybe.”

Why did it feel this way?

Chenle was right- you didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to feel this way at all. It had been a year, so why did it affect you?

Why was it all happening at once?

You clicked your tongue, eyeing the player with contempt. You felt pathetic for being curious, for still feeling so attached to old news. It wasn’t as if it was going to change anything, so why?

Why did you still want to know?

Curiosity killed the cat. You wondered if knowing would somehow kill you.

No one was at home currently, so you sat in the living room on your couch. The items you were trying so hard to ignore were sitting on the small table in front of the couch, as if waiting for you to pick them up once again.

You wondered if you should tell Lia and ask her opinion about the situation. She may not be that helpful, but hell, she could help you burn the tapes if worse came to worse.

Sometimes you wished you had never met Chenle, that your history with him could be erased from your memories. You wished it never existed because fuck, it still hurt.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and pressed play.

tape iv] firsts with you

Do you remember our first kiss?

We were eighteen, in my room, playing Jenga. That was a year ago, oh god, I can’t even imagine, how has it been a year? You were wearing one of my shirts and jeans, your hair was in a ponytail. The two of us were sitting on the carpet on my floor.

You had successfully gotten one of the wooden pieces out of a risky area of the tower, but then it was my turn, it feel to the ground, destroyed.

I blamed you, and you laughed, and our banter continued. We argued and at one point I started tickling you to get you to shut up, because honestly-Jesus Christ Y/n you’re fucking stubborn.

Anyways I ended up on top of you and the two of us were laughing. You looked so pretty, hair messily scattered around your face as you attempted to get out of my hold. 

I leaned down and kissed you.

Your throat closed up as he spoke. Your eyes stung and you raked your hand through your hair, biting down on your lower lip. The way he was speaking about it, as if he would do anything to go back, it struck something in you.

Because if you had the chance, you would go back as well.

You tasted like that strawberry chapstick you liked to wear. I could tell you were surprised, because you didn’t kiss me back for a good two seconds  —which, by the way sent me into a panic for a moment there.

But then you kissed me, and fuck, it was like everything had stopped. I couldn’t think for a second, it was like the world had started spinning around me, and the only thing that was keeping me grounded, was you.

Was it supposed to hurt like this?

You sucked in a sharp breath, fingers fisted the material of your shirt as you tried keeping your composure. You didn’t want to cry, but he was making it so, so hard for you. 

You remembered how it felt when he kissed you, you were legitimately so confused, was he really kissing you? Your best friend, the boy you had loved quietly for so long, kissing you?

Chenle was your first kiss, and it was the most perfect first kiss you could have ever asked for, even if you were on the floor, with random Jenga blocks scattered around the two of you.

The smile you gave me after I pulled away, I wish I could remember it forever. It was goofy as you burst into giggles, and asked me, “What was that for?”

I blinked in surprise, wondering how you seemed so normal, when for me everything had changed. I had kissed my best friend, the one girl I care the most about.

I must have looked like a tomato oh god.

Instead of waiting for my to answer, you sat up, pulling me into another kiss. This time it was me who was unprepared. The kiss was messy, it had no structure or plan, but I realized in that moment, that I really liked kissing you, and I wanted to do it more often.

You became my girlfriend.

The wistful tone he was using was starting to affect you. You had loved Chenle, almost too much. You could almost feel that nostalgic happiness you felt that day when he kissed you for the first time, the disbelief and joy that wrapped around the two of you. 

A wave of sadness followed that nostalgia.

Our first date was so fucking awkward. We were at that little cafe you loved, you ordered a cheesecake and I got a smoothie, and then we sat in silence for a good five minutes.

It really shouldn’t have been that painful, considering we knew everything about each other already, then again that might be why it was awkward, I had nothing to ask you about.

So naturally I brought up school and that started it, the two of us complaining about the amount of assignments we had, and Mrs. Choi’s annoying squeaky voice- I swear to god that woman took a second for each word.

But I digress.

Slowly our conversation felt normal again, it was just us, eating cheesecake and drinking smoothies, together.

That wave of sadness crashed down upon you like a tsunami, trying to snuff you out. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, you were struggling to keep yourself together. You were struggling to stay afloat, you had lost any leverage you had that was holding you up.

You couldn’t fight the waves.

My flight is in two hours. It’s four in the morning and we’re about to walk through the door and get to the airport, but I wanted to talk to you once again, even if we’re not really talking.

I’m pathetic.

You’re sleeping, in your bed at your home, you don’t know I’m going because I’m the coward that refused to tell you the truth. I’ll be gone by the time you wake up and then you’ll know.

You’ll know how much of a waste of time I was.

And then you were angry.

You were angry because he had no right to just come back into your life like this, no fucking right to make you cry. He wasn’t even here, but somehow he had managed to make you fall apart just with his words, with his voice.

He had no right to tear your world apart, the little composure you had standing. You had finally accepted the fact that he was gone, you had moved on, and even tried to forget.

But here he was, making sure you could never forget.

You hated how selfish he was, how absolutely fucking oblivious. He had no clue, not even one as to how you felt when he just disappeared from your life, as if he never existed. He had broken you and here he was, breaking you again.

With trembling hands, you stopped the tape from playing any further, angry tears making their way down your face as you flung the player across the room. You had no intention of listening any further, you didn’t want to, you didn’t care.

Closure hurt more than him leaving.

You buried your head in your hands, letting yourself fall apart, but just this once.

tape iv] continued [unheard]

I’m sorry Y/n. I’m so fucking sorry. 

You don’t have to believe me, because I’m leaving anyways, so I suppose that cancels out my apologies huh? I’m the worst person you ever met. I’m not stopping, I’m not going to leave you a text.

Because I don’t want to hurt you anymore.

I’ll be gone before we could ever be.

Should’ve believed in us, while we existed, cuz now the whole things fucked, and just a figment of my imagination

~

Time heals all hurt, and reminders bring them back, cutting through your skin like a knife, making you bleed.

A week later, you found yourself sitting in your favorite cafe, the same cafe Chenle talked about in the last tape. You ordered a cheesecake and a smoothie, inserting the fifth and final tape into the player.

The last time you did this, you were left hurt and distraught, promising yourself you would never go back to listen to him again. You had put the shoebox in your closet, hiding it behind your clothes that hung from the rack.

Yet here you were.

You didn’t bother finishing the fourth tape, you didn’t see the need to. 

This tape, you observed, was newer looking, with less scratches on the plastic, even the marker on the side looked more recent, a little rushed if you went into detail. 

The cheesecake and drink arrived, and you took a bite, pressing play.

tape v] play

Hey.

He sounded a little different too, older perhaps. His voice was smoother, but he sounded unsure of himself. It sounded as if he was trying to figure out how to approach the topic. He was being cautious.

It’s been a while. I...I don’t know why I’m doing this. There’s no point- you’re not even here. I found these stupid tapes yesterday in my dorm when I was cleaning out and gave them a listen.

Silence.

I envy you, Y/n. I wish I was like you, happy wherever I was. But I’m not, and I probably caused you great unhappiness while trying to search for my own- but I was happy with you, so happy it was ridiculous.

I sabotaged that.

You sighed, realizing you felt nothing. You were tired of crying over Chenle, you were done doing that. Instead you felt empty, like you had been tired out, like it didn’t matter anymore. At this point you were to get it over with, to finish it off on  clean ending note.

My song comes out next week, and it’ll be done. I’ve made it Y/n, I’ve gotten to where I wanted to be, the place I had worked so hard to get to. I’ve sacrificed so much for this and it’s all been worth it- except one thing.

I don’t expect you to listen to my song, I just wanted to tell you. I..I hope you’re proud of me. Even if I was a jerk, I hope you can be proud, at least a little bit, because then I’ll have finally made it.

I miss you.

The same words are at the tip of your tongue, I miss you, I miss you so fucking much, but they never came out. They didn’t have to, it would be useless. He would never hear them.

Instead, you swallowed them back down.

And even though I made fun of you for staying home, I hope you’re happy like I am, I hope we’ll meet again one day. If we do I challenge you to a game of Jenga, loser buys the winner ice cream.

I-fuck this is the hardest part- but I hope you’ve moved on. One of us has to.

*click*

You don’t take the tape out of the player, you don’t touch it at all. You feel oddly calm as you take another bite of your cheesecake, savoring the strawberry reserve that it came with it. You could almost imagine yourself at eighteen again sitting opposite your new boyfriend.

You missed it, the memories that came along with it. That was it, you missed the feelings you had.

But you were okay. You would be okay right where you were, because that’s where you belonged. It hurt, yeah, but it had hurt back then as well. Now it was just a dull ache, all that was left was regret.

Regret that it didn’t work out, regret over unspoken words and unnecessary pain.

A familiar song filled the cafe as you smiled somewhat sadly, leaning back in your seat and closing your eyes.

“I’m proud of you Chenle”, you whispered, “Because you did what I couldn’t”

You left the cafe a little later, with the cassettes in your bag, an empty plate and the smoothie sitting on the table, untouched. After all, that smoothie wasn’t for you.

There was nothing to wait for anymore. You had loved and you had lost, Chenle was a stranger with your secrets and a familiar voice and that was it. 

You had forgiven him a long time ago, even without him being deserving of it. Now with all the loose ends being tied up, it felt like you could finally let go of him, you could finally move on.

And forget.

[dancingazaleas]

zeke yeager | my baby

this is bc of the new episode; i’ve known his backstory for a while but i didn’t come up with the idea until now LFMAOOAOA

anyways zeke supremacy

edit: this is so bad but enjoy LMFOAOAOA

warnings/notes: this is strictly platonic, takes place in canonverse during zeke’s childhood then to the beginning of season 4, cursing, mentions of mental abuse from family, murder, fem!reader(feel free to change if u want), yeah i’m unoriginal and the reader is the female titan before annie, angst,

when you first met zeke, zeke was extremely hesitant towards you.

grisha and dina had brought you into the house, a 17 year old girl who had soft and gentle eyes along with a nice smile. zeke had recognized you from the warrior program. you hadn’t inherited your titan just yet, you still had a few more years before they would allow it to be given to you. your predecessor gained the titan around your age, no one really knows why. zeke assumes that it must be a similar case with mr. ksaver and himself.

it shocked zeke in all honesty. they’re letting a warrior watch over him? one that isn’t in cahoots with his mother and father?

it wasn’t until grisha and dina pulled him into a different room and told him to get information on your views that he understood why. they wanted to use you, just like they wanted to use zeke. the worst of it all was that zeke knows you. he looks up to you, you graduated third out of all of your peers, you express love with the younger candidates such as zeke.

he felt like curling up in his bed and crying, he didn’t want you to babysit him just so his parents could use you.

but whenever the couple left, your arms encased him in warmth. you were hugging him tightly to you, fingernails surely digging into the fabric of his shirt. he felt his eyes widen whenever he felt a drop of a liquid on his shoulder. you were crying.

you pulled away and put a hand on his cheek, looking at him with endearment. zeke started crying at this, not once had dina touched him like this. not once had grisha looked at him like this.

“it’s okay, my boy,” you pull him close again, “i’m here.”

for the first time, zeke wasn’t cowering in a corner while he sobbed. he sobbed in the arms of a person, one that loved him dearly whether he knew it or not. you were even crying for him.

“my mother and father were apart of the same group,” you whispered as you stroked his hair, “they pushed me so far to my limits.”

“so, i did something i regret,” you sob, “something i hope you’re never forced to do.”

your whimper gave him chills, “i murdered my mother with a butcher knife and pinned the crime onto my father. all at the age of ten. to this day, i don’t know how i got away with it. maybe the police pitied me or found it excusable because of their affiliations with the group.”

“you hurt someone,” he sniffles, eyes widened in fear.

it gave you a frown, however you couldn’t blame him, “i did. it was mistake and i wish i had never done it. i just wished for my mother and father to love me, not to use me. after that, i found myself in the warrior program. maybe with this power, i could do some good. to show marley that us eldians are not devils.”

you rid him of his snot and tears with your shirt, “when i saw your father the time he came to observe you, i was immediately able to tell. your reaction had said it all. i can’t allow myself to witness you go through what i did without doing something. even if it’s small.”

he blinks at you after you softly kiss him on his forehead.

“now, is there anything you want to do?”

————

that afternoon, you played catch and volleyball with zeke. after that, you bought him whatever meal he wanted from the market and ate with him at the table. he told you about his stuffed monkey, who he named jerry, and his adventures.

he was sad when you had to leave, to which dina and grisha informed him you would come to their home sparingly. although he was delighted, he was also sad.

the next day, you doted on him during the short breaks between his training. patting his head, shaking him by his shoulders, and giving him a hug. when lunch came around, you pulled out a home cooked lunch for him as you sat on a bench. you would give him advice with training and his health while he ate.

he even shared some of his food with her.

after that was his time with ksaver. he didn’t see you during that time, obviously, but that didn’t mean you didn’t come during their conversations.

zeke was surprised to hear the praising from ksaver. ksaver said that you were a good figure for him and that you had a genuine heart. it made him feel at ease.

when the day was over, you walked zeke home and even ate dinner with him and his parents. it was a surprise that made you slightly bitter, but you accepted nonetheless.

they talked to you excitedly, asking about your duties as a warrior. you exceptionally avoided answering the questions, instead prodding at their own occupations and duties.

in the end, it felt like a game of tag. avoiding and then charging.

the night you were on your way to watch zeke, you felt your heart drop at the feral screeching of grisha and the reassurance of dina. you banged your fist against the door worriedly, sweat forming at your hairline.

the yelling stopped and you heard the patter of footsteps against the floor. dina looked flustered as she opened the door, face tear stained and eyebrows knitted up in concern.

“oh, (name), we don’t need you to watch over him anymore.”

“no, please, allow me,” you put on a fake smile that made her relax.

“you can take him out for a bit,” she, surprisingly, compromised and stepped aside to let you inside.

you bolted to zeke’s dark room. he was in a corner with his knees pushed against his chest and his hands covering his ears. his tears were making puddles on his knees as he stared blankly at the wall. you rush to him, pulling his head into your chest and picking him up.

“it’s alright,” you whispered, “you’ll be with me for a little bit.”

he didn’t respond but just wiped his eyes when he realized he would pass by his mom. you gave dina a brisk goodbye before leaving and taking him to a nearby park.

“it’s alright, my boy, it’s alright,” you coo and stroke his sweaty back.

for once, he felt okay.

————

the day zeke reported his parents, you held him in your arms. from then, he stayed with his grandparents and often found himself spending time with you after training when his schedule allowed it.

now, zeke is 16 and you’re 29. zeke was often seen with you or ksaver during his free time, now having the power of the best titan secured when ksaver’s term is up.

you mentor a girl named annie leonhardt, the next inheritor of the female titan. zeke occasionally sees you and annie catching some bugs in the grass during your mentoring. other days, you talk to her or just look at the sky. once at the beginning of the year, he once saw you take annie ice skating over a lake.

when he spends his time with you, you’re often doting on him and taking care of him. one time, you convinced the kids and some of the older soldiers to all play a game of baseball after your training was over.

you walked the extra mile for zeke no matter what. zeke was in trouble during a war and you swatted him into the trenches with your hand before attacking the enemy a year ago. whenever zeke would get hurt, you’d be his nurse.

if zeke’s being honest, you’re the maternal figure in his life. you act as if he’s your son, love him like he’s your son, and sometimes you even let it slip and call him that. sometimes zeke messes up and calls you mom.

in your eyes, he is your son.

in his eyes, you’re his mom.

but with being a parental figure came with fighting. it didn’t happen often, but whenever it did it was bad. zeke would become more irritable and angry while you would become reserved and melancholy.

when zeke was 14, you got into a fight so bad that it ended up getting you bedridden. you’d been sick from stress and it lasted for weeks until zeke swallowed his pride and apologized.

it almost made bertholdt, annie, reiner, porco, pieck, and marcel laugh at how domestic the two of you are when together. but as soon as you left zeke’s side, he would revert back to his quiet and receptive personality.

“zeke, my boy,” you call as you walk towards all the warrior candidates, “i’ve got your favorite.”

“thanks,” he hums when you stand beside him.

“i also brought some food for you all too. since we didn’t have training today, i thought you all could enjoy a nice break by having a picnic,” you clap your hands with a smile and they all feel like they’re seeing an angel.

they all agree and follow behind you when you start leading them towards a grassy field. you set the basket down and rummage through it, pulling out a nice thick blanket so the blades of the grass wouldn’t poke through.

“help me lay this out,” zeke sighs but obliges.

with zeke’s help, everyone is sitting on the blanket and eating and conversing. you listen quietly as you chew on the sandwich you made.

“miss (name),” pieck’s soft voice said beside you, “thank you for the picnic.”

you smile and shake your head, cheeks puffing out from the food that’s still in your mouth.

“can we do this again,” shyly asks reiner.

you gulp down your food and choke a bit, “y-yes! of course!”

you turn to zeke and speak quietly, “how was training yesterday?”

“it was fine. my calves are kind of sore though, it’s been a while since we did squats,” he shrugs and looks up, “ksaver let me pitch to him again.”

“i’m assuming it was at least enjoyable?”

“yeah...,” he trails off, “could you massage my calves for me in a little while?”

you pinch his cheek as you laugh, “of course! anything for you, my child.”

he chuckles while he swats at your hand, “quit that. it hurts.”

before you could pinch him even harder, porco’s loud voice interrupted.

“miss (name), are you zeke’s mom?”

his brother and annie hit him, scolding him in whispers.

“i-i’m so sorry miss (name)..! my brother means no harm,” marcel stutters nervously.

“it’s alright, i don’t mind,” zeke’s slightly flustered, “but no, i’m not zeke’s mother.”

“so why do you act so friendly?”

“i met zeke when i was 17 and he was just a little boy. i would watch him while his grandparents were away,” you lie like it’s nothing.

“i’ve always seen zeke as my little boy though even if i’m only 13 years older,” it has them all gaping and zeke staring at his food.

“why’d you become a warrior then,” reiner blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth in shame, “sorry... but with all due respect, you have a family you love and who love you... why would you let your life end so short?”

for just a second the smile on your face cracks into a frown as you feel your throat tighten up, “why are you asking such disrespectful questions? i understand you have no malicious intent, however it sounds as if you are seeing my decision as an ignorant one. are you calling me ignorant for becoming a warrior?”

zeke just looks away sadly. you never really had to put on this demanding ploy too much since no one dared to ask a question such as reiner did. not to mention that you had to in order to keep your position. reiner scrambles to pledge his loyalty to marley with your eyes burning holes into his head.

the others slightly cower in fear, they’d only ever heard that you could be like this from their mentors. but when they all looked in your, now, sad eyes, they relaxed.

“but, to answer your question,” you say reluctantly, “i was already selected to inherit the female titan.”

“now,” you cough and zeke knows it’s because you want to cry, “i need to go.”

they all help you get everything together, fidgeting anxious as they watch you walk back to the dorm. when you were far enough away, porco shouts at reiner for asking such questions and ruining the picnic. it ends up with annie joining in with the berating and marcel slapping porco upside the head.

zeke just leaves and follows you. he can’t be bothered to listen to them argue while you’re probably crying.

zeke knew it was about your 13 years coming to an end, meaning you wouldn’t be with him anymore. the first time he brought it up, you sobbed out apologies while holding his head to your chest. zeke knows not to bring it up again.

however, reiner didn’t. although he was slightly frustrated with reiner, he understood that he meant no harm to you. sometimes reiner just doesn’t think before he speaks.

zeke finds you with your head in your hands as you cry on your bed. the creaking of the door opening has you looking up and making eye contact and your eyes fill up with tears. zeke shut the door behind him and sat next to you after you pat the spot beside you.

zeke knows what’s going to happen, but allows it anyways because it puts you both at ease.

you cradle his head to your chest, stroking his hair with one hand and his back with another. zeke feels himself starting to cry when you cry out apologies and exclamations of love.

“zeke, my boy, i love you,” you whimper, “i’m so sorry i cannot be by your side until i grow old.”

zeke’s fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt and let’s out a broken sob.

“you’re the light of my life, zeke,” you whisper, “my beautiful boy, my beautiful baby.”

his shoulders shake and he wanted to tell you to stop and to pull away. but he won’t.

“you’re the son i never had, zeke, did you know that,” you sob and squeeze him tight.

it has him wailing and holding you tight. though zeke knew this, you never said it out loud.

“my baby, my baby,” you croak, “i love you so much, zeke.”

“love you too,” he chokes out, muffled by your shirt.

“zeke, my boy, my son, my zeke.”

“please don’t leave me,” it makes you sob even louder.

“i’m so sorry, zeke, i’m so sorry.”

————

zeke couldn’t look in annie’s direction after your term ended and her’s started. even at 29 years of age, he still curls up in a ball and cries himself to sleep. he carries a photograph of the two of you, he remembers taking the picture on your 26th birthday.

back on marley, whenever you were brought up in conversations, reiner, porco, and pieck stared at him with sympathy.

after zeke’s arms grow back on the blimp, he pulls out the folded photograph from his pocket. he stares at your beaming smile.

“who’s the girl,” eren asks, ignoring how yelena looks at him fiercely, “when’d you get a girlfriend?”

zeke shakes his head, “not a girlfriend.”

“who is she then,” eren gestures with his hand, the clinking of the metal chains echoing in the small room on the blimp.

“my mother,” he murmurs while he hands it to eren.

“dina doesn’t look like that.”

“eren, did you ever see a memory of a woman being introduced as a babysitter?”

“now that it’s being mentioned, yea.”

“that’s her,” the memory has him chuckling, “she treated me like her son before she died.”

eren transfers his gaze to yelena, a silent request for her to give more information.

“(name) (last name) was the inheritor of the female titan before annie leonhardt. she inherited the titan a few months after she turned 17, her predecessor, flora, was unexpectedly injured during war and was not able to regenerate. although disorganized and unexpected, (name) managed to eat flora. she died at the age of 30 when annie ate her as a pure titan,” yelena elaborates hesitantly as zeke’s small smile fades, “she was often recognized for her kind personality and optimistic attitude.”

“i see,” he said.

“were you her beautiful boy,” eren taunts.

“yes. i was.”

he sounds sad while he folds it back up and puts it in his pocket.

maybe he could be the same to eren.