#and its not like they really ever become less selfish or become good or whatever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tiffanylamps · 2 years ago

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For ao3 wrapped: 18,28,29 :)

Hey!! Thank you so much for sending me this ask! 😊 (I only write Beyond Evil fics, so everything will be related to that fandom)

The ao3 ask game

18) The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? I would say probably... Lee Dong Sik. I always fear that I'm going to write him in a way that seems more like a caricature than an actual depiction of his character. I do really enjoy writing from his perspective, as I feel there's a lot of depth to the way he views the world, and some of my favourite things I have written have been told from his perspective. I just want to do it right, and as of right now, I don't believe I have.

28) Favorite work you wrote this year? oooh, this is a tough one. The one that first comes to mind is my self-indulgent karaoke fic, courage to make love known. I don't think it's necessarily the "best" thing I've ever written but I really enjoyed putting it together. Plus, it's just a bunch of silly nonsense and that's super fun to write sometimes (as I tend to focus more on angsty, more emotional stories). 29) Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? Oh no, another really tough one. Ahhhhh. I can't choose just one, so I'll give you a selection

The faraway melody of pitter-patter rain morphs lazily, changing in tone and tempo as the hazy sleep-conscious fog in Joo Won's mind dissipates. His body is a burdening mass of unnecessary weight: limbs mid-rigor mortis from a dreamless sleep that has left him disorientated and aching, stitched to the mattress with invisible red thread. But he knows where he is as soon as he stretches his muscles like a cat after a day-long nap: toes splayed and knees clicking. His head rolls back, allowing his cheek to find the all-too-soft fabric of a pillow that is too fluffy and too big to be his own.

Ah. He knows this pillow. He knows the entire set.

He twists, uncoordinated with eyes closed like a newborn pup seeking out the life-giving milk of its mother. His chest finds the bed sheet and before he has the clarity of mind to stop himself, he cradles the pillow with arms on the verge of pins and needles, burying his face amongst the polyester stuffing. He allows himself a lungful of peace. Just a lungful. A deep and steady intake of autumn air and whatever diffuser Dong Sik has been using as of late. Not unlike a bagpipe, it inflates him with life and song, and he traps it within his lungs in secret, succumbing to its wonder. He feels oddly full.

His eyes look off to the distance and his eyes fall far away. He is incandescent; his heart sending mystic messages to its other half, like children whispering secrets through a tin can telephone. It’s a shame that his other half is currently steaming drunk and unable to receive his messages.

It started as the drips of melting ice and throughout the years it has swelled into streams, rivers and levees, crashing down like waterfalls, but only shown through tears and promises. She’s sure that if he doesn’t speak of it, one day, it’ll become a sea, overwhelming him with waves and tsunamis.

Joo Won feels sick like a projector with a film reel twisted up and jammed, seconds away from catching alight. He tries to be strong, he really does but he can’t stop himself from crumbling down. His chest is a lonesome chasm of torment and guilt, putrid and rotting away. He clutches onto it: maybe if he tears away the filth, he can be good enough - less selfish - for his partner. How can he ever face himself again, when he pushed the best man he’s ever met to-?

After an awkward adjustment of limbs, the blanket barely covering them both, Joo Won lays with his head on his favourite chest, listening to his favourite heart drum the beat of their wedding song. Dong Sik kisses his forehead, wiping tears away and keeping him closer than ever. Joo Won knows they have a lot to discuss, and he knows they will. But right now, the sun is rising and he's in the arms of the man he loves, knowing for certain that he's loved in return. He's on the verge of sleep when he mumbles, “I’d take your name.”

His chin is lifted by gentle fingers, and they comb through his hair as an invitation to explain. “In England and other countries, it’s customary for one spouse to take their partner’s surname. If I could, legally or illegally, I would take your family name.”

Fireflies only live during the summer; Dong Sik had once whispered against his shoulder when they were young and stupid, during a night that never seemed to end. He whispered it with a smile tugging at the corner of his swollen lips; lips Jung Je had made swollen with his own. He remembers how Dong Sik softened with a boyish laugh as Jung Je kissed him again instead of replying. He remembers the smile he captured, the laugh he felt against his tongue, a lie he captured with his teeth and kept chewing on for countless summers.

But summer has ended a long time ago, he knows that now, and winter is truly here. Jung Je wipes the moisture from his cheeks and turns on the ignition. He got Dong Sik’s summers, what a fool he has been for wanting his autumn years too. Someone beat him to it.

Or worse yet, perhaps they were never his, to begin with. Dong Sik was never his.

Love, I spent an evening outside your door, chipping away at the paint, wishing that this is just a nightmare. But the touch burns with that ice-cold death, knowing a part of me is forever empty without you. I am always with you and without you. My memories are dried chrysanthemum petals wedged in between the pages of our yearbook. Twenty years is all you were given. Twenty years is all I took.

Joo Won fixed his collar again. He’s been told numerous times that he’s vain, and it was probably true. He was meticulous: bleached teeth, designer socks, silk bed sheets, Egyptian cotton net curtains, and gold leaf eye cream. He is a fuck-off wristwatch, a share in stocks, a non-existent handshake; real platinum.

He has perfectly manicured nails, a selection of embroidered ties, and a beautiful face without a smile. The kid with a private university dorm room. A dedicated bar inside his studio flat overflowing with sophisticated wine and perfectly aged spirits accompanied by crystal drinking glasses. His class at university was asked: Who is most likely to succeed? Everyone agreed: Han Joo Won. Him, of course. You know who his father is.

As a result of his sequestered life, he had become a fantasy: a façade, a prince at a masquerade ball with an empty dance card.

Once upon a time, he was the kid that memorised every word to foreign hymns. He studied sheet music until the ink bled. He shot awake at night from tainted memories of a begrudged second place in a spelling bee. He was a hangnail snagging on a Prada suit, a smudge on Muzik reading glasses. He was mascara tears running down painted cheeks.

Dust dances and twirls between sunray and shadow. The afternoon heat has mellowed into a finer thing: a pleasant concoction of crickets and the early evening songbirds' tune. There are dishes on the counter and boxes by the door, a light is on in the bathroom, and it is quiet as if there is no one home at all. The still lake on the other side of the sliding doors perfectly mirrors the painted sky, like a bathtub of golden honey, waiting for a finger to take a dip.

Anyway, yeah, there's more but I won't bore you with it. Out of the selection, the last one is the only excerpt from an unpublished piece/wip, so you get a cheeky sneak peek haha. I hope this was of interest to you! Thank you again for sending me this ask 😊

#ask game #ask answered #thank you <3 #writing

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years ago

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cw ;; deku in love w u, cheating (kinda..? u break up w him over the phone like. right before), oral (f!recieving), fem reader,

hey guys i can’t stop thinking about deku who hates the guy you’re seeing so this is coming out of me..

i really just. i bet it’s hard for deku not to like someone. after all - he puts up with bkg even now, as much of a brat as he is. deku was raised with a mother and is a patient man. when he saves people - victims, and they cry and kick and scream, he doesn’t even get upset. it’s hard to push his buttons - calm and collected and a nervous wreck but not angry. never angry. never raises his voice.

even his anger has a patience to it - and you think that’s a feat. you’ve only seen him get really mad before once, in a fight. it’s icy, that kind of seething feeling. its an anger for justice and it’s a quality you admire in him. you wish that you had the emotional intelligence to feel your feelings how he does. you like that about him.

you wouldn’t call deku your best friend. but he’s a good friend, a really good friend. maybe someone you pined after in highschool - maybe even before than. you’ve always admired him but somewhere along the way you two became friends, enough so that it’s weird for you now. you couldn’t possible admit your attraction so with a heavy heart, you keep him at arms legnth. he knows you well but you tell yourself that’s how he is with everyone. it’s deku.

now adults and with lives to live separately - you go into your field of choice and deku becomes a pro. you see him less and less but he makes time for you. again - it’s just something you do. you appreciate that he cares enought about you to do so. and it’s not like you have any idea that his friends only hear from him half the time you do. you don’t think anything of it, and you shake off the thoughts of him that haunt you when you’re awake in the middle of the night

the kind of thoughts that having you sticking a hand in your shorts - saying you’ll sleep right after. you try. and fail. but normally after you’re too tired to dwell. it happens for a while.

maybe you’re just frustrated. that’s so possible. it’s hard for you to get out these days - you’re lonely. you’re sure.

it takes no time at all for you to download tinder in shame. sitting with wine and a your phone - you scroll and scroll and land on somebody named nakamura and he seems so nice. he is nice to you - charming and witty. handsome and a nice build. a good job. stable.

you get to talking an in no time at all you have a date. and a week passes and you go on the date and it’s good - not perfect but not bad. you think to yourself there’s something off about him, arrogant but you look past it. you sleep with him and it’s just okay. and it doesn’t get rid of deku in your dreams, caressing you in your sleep. you have a wet dream.. you didn’t even know you could have those.

but you decide to see it through - for so long you date this man for almost half a year. he’s not perfect but what relationships are, really? he treats you okay though you wish he would pay a bit more attention. he spoils you with lavish gifts and nice dinners but you’d rather just hang out on the weekend and -

you see it through. and he meets your friends and they hate him but you tell them they don’t get it. eventually you get around to deku and you don’t think twice about the encounter until it happens.

just a dinner with a few from your highschool group - uraraka and todoroki and iida. and you can feel it off of deku - you can see that ice that you haven’t seen in so long. he’s being ncie but there’s more to it. it’d be undetectable to anyone who doesn’t know him, like your new boyfriend. but to you it’s obvious.

you don’t say anything to your boyfriend. but you decide to be with deku alone the next day - ask if he’s free. at the end of the day you still care about deku.. you care so much. so you meet up the next day for lunch and he looks.. off. distant. there but not.

“izuku.. what’s up with you?,”

he gives you a painful sigh. he seems sad.. seems frustrated about something. a little strain in his voice.

“you know i always respect you and your choices. i’ll always support you but.. i just don’t think that guys good for you,”

you feel defensive. you are defensive.

“you don’t even know him..’zuku. he’s a nice guy,”

he sighs, attaches your name in a disappointed voice. it makes your heartache.

“i don’t understand it. not at all,”

“you don’t need too,”

you’re about to cut the lunch short, standing up and getting read to leave but deku pulls you back to your seat. he looks at you, strained. upset.

“just. be honest. why? it’s not like you,”

you can’t help but be honest with him. it’s so hard for you to lie so you don’t. you swallow something in your throat

“im.. i was trying to get over someone,”

he looks surprised.

“... who..? did it.. did it work?”

“it doesn’t matter,”

everything stops. and there’s something in his eyes again. the only thing deku is selfish in is you - the only weakness he’s ever felt. and in the moment he can feel it, all those feelings he can’t seem to break free from.

“who,”

“damn it, izuku - it’s you! it’s.. it’s you,”

and that’s how it all happens - why you called your boyfriend in the middle of the afternoon after pulling into a hotel with deku behind you. his hands on your waist, voice in your ear.

“tell him you’re breaking up with him,’ ― a soft whisper in your ear ― “for me.. go on,”

and you don’t have much of a choice when deku’s mouth in your skin. you can barely surpress a moan as he kiss your spine, licks up your neck with something inside of him. he gets you undressed and your phone is tossed and forgotten about. and whatever plans you had for the day disappear too.

instead deku fulfills those nasty little dreams you had. something about his touch makes you confess things you’d never dream. with every word, he moans a little. so into you. you think he gets off on how much you like him - think that’s why his cock twitches when it pushes against your thighs. he begs you tell him all the details. he wants to hear every detail from your mouth.

he makes you. he makes you. with his tongue lapping at your clit and your orgasm in the center of his palms. with your toes curling and your body weak

“tell me where i touched you. i’ll do it. whatever you want. just tell me,”

he does. he touches you everywhere and asks if thats what you wanted. does it feel good? where do you need him? he has the nerve to eat you out until your toes curl and you drool and hold you down, your hips pinned to the bed as he moans into your cunt with a sweetness. calloused palms holding you down.

you’re not surprised that he fucks you within an inch of your life. his dick is so fucking big but you’re so wet it fits right in. and he fucks you - bounces you up and down on his lap. using your pussy like a fleshlight with the sheer force but he’s whispering in your ears.

“you’re so pretty. take it so well. im gonna take care of you. im gonna make you feel so good” over and over on repetition. he’s making a mess out of you, melting into a puddle as you cum over and over. it’s about you and only you. that’s enough to make you feel frenzied. when he’s close - you beg him to cum inside and he groans, burying your neck and finishing inside.

after it’s all said and done, deku cleans you up. kisses you sweetly and tells you how much he likes you. your voice is hoarse but all u do is laugh.

“you really didn’t like him.. couldn’t even wait an hour,”

he blushes a little.

“... can’t say i did,”

#deku x reader #bnha x reader #deku smut #bnha smut #prettyboy.thirsts #cheating cw #THIS IS OS LONG FDKJVGHFSLKDNJ #THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO JUSTBE A BRAINDUMP #SORRY

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peakyswritings · 3 years ago

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Sham || Part VII

Tommy Shelby x OC

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Final Part

Whatever they had before France was over the moment he stepped on that train. Whatever they had after Grace left for New York was consolation. And their marriage was a sham.

Summary: Sometimes, the hardest option is the only way out.

Warnings: angst, a lot of sadness, mentions of abortion, swearing, mentions of divorce.

A/N: alright guys, next chapter will be the last. Thank you to all the ones who kept on reading this chapter by chapter🤍

Gif credit

The weeks that followed that night were marked by a sort of peace. Tommy and Helen’s fights had become more sporadic, they had gotten used to being in each other’s presence again, and sometimes they would spend their afternoons in the stables with Charlie.

They still slept in separate rooms, though, and Helen had stressed more than once that what happened that night was nothing more than a moment of weakness.

A moment of weakness was all it took, though.

Helen stared at the medical record in her hand, reading it again and again as if its content would change at some point. Of course, it didn’t. Deep down, she already knew. She had been feeling sick, lately, and she was late. She was never late.

She sighed, folding the paper in half. That pregnancy could take away every chance she had of getting a divorce. Until that moment, the thing that had prevented her from finding an attorney was that she was a woman, a Shelby woman, no less. Now she was expecting Tommy Shelby’s child. No solicitor would ever support her.

Helen had considered forgiving Tommy, during those weeks. She could see that he was really scared about her leaving him for good. He tried to be home for dinner every night, he asked her about her day, he brought her tea when she was taking care of the papers. She had her own personal room, in which she could enter through Tommy’s office. It used to be empty, until the previous week. He had it furnished with a desk, a comfortable chair, a soft armchair, some lamps and a huge library, so that Helen’s books wouldn’t have to stay in the garret.

There were days when he was distant and cold again, but he was actually trying to be a good husband. Helen knew that change would take time, that sometimes she would still have to be patient with him, just like he was patient with her when she was angry, or resentful, or doubtful. That was the reason why a part of her was willing to give him one last chance.

But it had to be her decision. A baby would’ve taken away every other option she had.

Helen rested with her head on the table, holding back the tears. Even when she felt like forgiving him, she couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of her head telling her to leave, to start a new life, away from Birmingham. Away from him.

Tommy would’ve hurt her again, in one way or another, and she would’ve found herself in the exact same situation. Except that next time, she would be forced to stay with him.

Helen had thought about it all day. Actually, she had thought about it since the doubt had started to set in. She had an option. It terrified her, but it was the only way out.

She stepped into Tommy’s office, closing the door behind her. He wasn’t home yet. She grabbed the phone and dialed the number with shaking hands. She told the operator Polly’s address, praying she would answer. She hadn’t been the same since she had come out of prison. She had even stopped answering the phone, for a while. Helen usually talked to Michael, to have news about her.

She almost regretted calling her. She felt selfish. But there were days when Polly seemed to be her old self, when Michael managed to keep her off the tablets. He called them the “good days”. Maybe that was one of the good days.

“Hello?”

Helen sighed, unable to hide her relief. Polly was herself. She could hear it in her voice. The relief only lasted for a moment, though, because the hardest part was yet to come.

“It’s me. Helen.” She swallowed thickly, unable to say anything for a few seconds. “I need your help.”

“What happened?”

Helen glanced at the door. She needed to be quick. “I don’t have the time to explain it to you right now, but-” she stopped, nervously fidgeting with the phone wire. “I’m pregnant, but I can’t keep the child. I need a woman.”

That must’ve stirred something inside the older woman, because her tone suddenly became serious. “Helen, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Tommy, but this is serious. Is it his child?”

“It is.”

“Then you should talk to him first.”

She sat on the chair, trying her best not to burst into tears. “Please, Polly. You need to tell me. Tell me the woman’s name, or I swear I will try and do it myself. You know I will.”

Helen felt cruel. She knew that what she was doing was not alright, but she didn’t have any other option. She couldn’t ask for Michael, Arthur, Lizzie, or Ada’s help, they would’ve warned Tommy. And sure as hell she couldn’t call Linda.

As for Polly, she didn’t think that Helen would actually do it, she was too soft. But she knew what desperation could make a person do. She had done it to herself, after all, almost dying in the process. And Helen seemed desperate. If she had gotten to that point, there must’ve been a reason. No, Polly couldn’t risk it.

So she told her the name.

Three days later, Helen was sitting in a taxi, a suitcase by her side. It was night, but the thing she was about to do was not something that could be done in the day light.

She had told Tommy that her mother was sick, and that she would stay at her place for a few days. She had never lied to him before.

Helen had thought about everything. She had told Tommy’s driver to stop her in front of her old house. She had waited for him to go away. Then she had taken a taxi. After the thing, she would rent a room and stay there for a while. Maybe forever.

She was doing a terrible thing to Tommy. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to face him after that. But she knew she had to. She would go back to Arrow House, and tell him she was leaving him.

Because getting an abortion meant divorcing him. Tommy would never know about it, it was a burden that only Helen had to carry. But she couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes and lie for the rest of her life. That was why she had to leave.

The car stopped right in front of the building. She payed the driver and grabbed her suitcase, before getting out of the vehicle. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach.

When she stopped in front of the door, Helen felt like a train had crushed over her. It was really about to happen. During those last few days, she had felt like it was not something that she would’ve gone through, like that moment was never meant to arrive. But it had arrived. It was too late to go back.

She rang the bell, tightening her grip on the suitcase. Forty minutes, an hour maybe, and then it would be over.

When the door opened, her entire body froze.

Tommy was there.

He stood tall, a stern look in his eyes. Helen felt incredibly small under the weight of his stare. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t utter a sound. Tommy was there, he knew. And his silence was worse than screams.

“Didn’t know your mother was a nurse.” He finally spoke, squinting his eyes.

For the first time in her life, Helen couldn’t decipher his expression. That made her extremely uncomfortable.

“How did you know?” She whispered, looking away from him.

“That you were pregnant, or that you wanted to get rid of my child?”

Helen almost flinched at the harshness of his words and tone. She had seen him distant, cold, angry. But whatever his emotion was, it was worse. And the worst thing was that he seemed completely unfazed.

“A maid heard you talking on the phone.” He said, not waiting for an answer. “They always listen, you should know that by now.”

“How did you know the address?”

“I called Polly.”

Of course, Polly would tell him. She felt so stupid for actually believing her husband would never know something like that. She had probably done the worst mistake of her life. Tommy would never forgive her. She would never forgive herself.

“Tommy, I’m so sorry-”

Without letting her finish her sentence, he firmly grabbed her arm, but not tight enough to hurt her, and walked outside the door. “Get in the car. We’re going home.”

Too deep in thought, Helen hadn’t noticed his Bentley when she had gotten out of the taxi. It was parked a few feet away from the building.

The ride home seemed to last hours, not a word was spoken by neither of them. Helen took courage and raised her eyes on him. Tommy was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. When he noticed she was looking at him, he clenched his jaw, but stayed silent.

Helen would have preferred him to yell, at least she would’ve known what was going on in his mind.

Eventually, they got home. Tommy quickly got out of the car and entered the house, without waiting for her. He stayed with his back turned on her as she took of her coat, but he didn’t move. He just stood there.

Helen hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder. She had crossed the line. She knew she had. There was no way of fixing that.

Tommy cleared his throat, turning around. His stoic facade started to fall apart right in front of her eyes. He was hurt.

“You could’ve died.” He said. “That thing his dangerous, Helen. You could’ve fucking died.” He raised his voice, pointing a finger at her.

Helen didn’t reply. Nothing she would say could make things better.

Tommy took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

“If you really don’t want that child, we go back there together.” He started, making her widen her eyes. “I won’t let you go through that alone. It’s my fault if you got to this point.” Tommy’s voice shook at his last words, but he tried his best to keep his composure.

“Tommy-”

“I’ll find you a solicitor, and I’ll make sure that the judge will grant us the divorce, if that’s what you want.” He interrupted her. “If you want the child, but you don’t want to raise it with me, I’ll give you money every month. And you can decide to keep it away from me. I wouldn’t blame you.”

Tommy looked away, his eyes watering, leaving her speechless. He was crying. And he was willing to let her go. That was enough to make her burst into tears. Truth was, she was glad he was there to stop her. She wanted that child. She had always wanted to be a mom. She had regretted calling that woman the moment she had found herself in front of the building.

“I didn’t wanna do that, Tommy. I swear.” She sobbed. He wrapped his arms around her, gently caressing her hair.

“No.” He shook his head, unable to stop his own tears. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, holding her tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He repeated.

And he was. For all the pain he had caused her, for all the wrong things he had done that had led her to take that decision. Helen had suffered enough. Tommy wanted her happiness, now. If it meant letting her go, he would let her go. For good.

Tag list: @arwyn-the-cyrptic-bisexural @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24

“Sham” tag list: @kitsnoopy @myjumper @onlydeadcells @ohshititsfenharel @literishdegree99 @a-dorkier-book-keeper @pulisvertz @notalxx @queenofkings1212 @leftdonuteaglepeach @inocrazeh @julietsecretjournal @lyarr24 @sleepyisy @ivegotparticulartaste @elliaze @mytearsricoshay @kishie8 @aafiyas @blyanyan

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic

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cappymightwrite · 3 years ago

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What draws you to incest ?

*sighs* Ok, here we go. I'm a real card carrying Jonsa now aren't I?

Anon, listen. I know this is an anti question that gets bandied about a lot, aimed at provoking, etc, when we all know no Jonsa is out here being all you know what, it really is the incest, and the incest alone, that draws me in. I mean, come on now. Grow up.

If I was "drawn" to incest I'd be a fan of Cersei x Jaime, Lucrezia x Cesare, hell Oedipus x Jocasta etc... but I haven't displayed any interest in them now, have I? So, huh, it can't be that.

Frankly, it's a derivitive question that is really missing the mark. I'm not "drawn" to it, though yeah, it is an unavoidable element of Jonsa. The real question you should be asking though, is what draws GRRM to it? Because he obviously is drawn to it, specifically what is termed the "incest motif" in academic and literary scholarship. That is a far more worthwhile avenue of thinking and questioning, compared with asking me. Luckily for you though anon, I sort of anticipated getting this kind of question so had something in my drafts on standby...

You really don't have to look far, or that deeply, to be hit over the head by the connection between GRRM's literary influences and the incest motif. I mean, let's start with the big cheese himself, Tolkein:

Tolkein + Quenta Silmarillion

We know for definite that GRRM has been influenced by Tolkein, and in The Silmarillion you notably have a case of unintentional incest in Quenta Silmarillion, where Túrin Turambar, under the power of a curse, unwittingly murders his friend, as well as marries and impregnates his sister, Nienor Níniel, who herself had lost her memory due to an enchantment.

Mr Tolkein, "what draws you to incest?"

Old Norse + Völsunga saga

Tolkein, as a professor of Anglo-Saxon, was hugely influenced by Old English and Old Norse literature. The story of the ring Andvaranaut, told in Völsunga saga, is strongly thought to have been a key influence behind The Lord of the Rings. Also featured within this legendary saga is the relationship between the twins Signy and Sigmund — at one point in the saga, Signy tricks her brother into sleeping with her, which produces a son, Sinfjotli, of pure Völsung blood, raised with the singular purpose of enacting vengence.

Anonymous Norse saga writer, "what draws you to incest?"

Medieval Literature as a whole

A lot is made of how "true" to the storied past ASOIAF is, how reflective it is of medieval society (and earlier), its power structures, its ideals and martial values etc. ASOIAF, however, is not attempting historical accuracy, and should not be read as such. Yet it is clearly drawing from a version of the past, as depicted in medieval romances and pre-Christian mythology for instance, as well as dusty tomes on warfare strategy. As noted by Elizabeth Archibald in her article Incest in Medieval Literature and Society (1989):

Of course the Middle Ages inherited and retold a number of incest stories from the classical world. Through Statius they knew Oedipus, through Ovid they knew the stories of Canace, Byblis, Myrrha and Phaedra. All these stories end more or less tragically: the main characters either die or suffer metamorphosis. Medieval readers also knew the classical tradition of incest as a polemical accusation,* for instance the charges against Caligula and Nero. – p. 2

The word "polemic" is connected to controversy, to debate and dispute, therefore these classical texts were exploring the incest motif in order to create discussion on a controversial topic. In a way, your question of "what draws you to incest?" has a whiff of polemical accusation to it, but as I stated, you're missing the bigger question.

Moving back to the Middle Ages, however, it is interesting that we do see a trend of more incest stories appearing within new narratives between the 11th and 13th centuries, according to Archibald:

The texts I am thinking of include the legend of Judas, which makes him commit patricide and then incest before betraying Christ; the legend of Gregorius, product of sibling incest who marries his own mother, but after years of rigorous penance finally becomes a much respected pope; the legend of St Albanus, product of father-daughter incest, who marries his mother, does penance with both his parents but kills them when they relapse into sin, and after further penance dies a holy man; the exemplary stories about women who sleep with their sons, and bear children (whom they sometimes kill), but refuse to confess until the Virgin intervenes to save them; the legends of the incestuous begetting of Roland by Charlemagne and of Mordred by Arthur; and finally the Incestuous Father romances about calumniated wives, which resemble Chaucer's Man of Law's Tale except that the heroine's adventures begin when she runs away from home to escape her father's unwelcome advances. – p. 2

I mean... that last bit sounds eerily quite close to what we have going on with Petyr Baelish and Sansa Stark. But I digress. What I'm trying to say is that from a medieval and classical standpoint... GRRM is not unique in his exploration of the incest motif, far from it.

Sophocles, Ovid, Hartmann von Aue, Thomas Malory, etc., "what draws you to incest?"

Faulkner + The Sound and the Fury, and more!

Moving on to more modern influences though, when talking about the writing ethos at the heart of his work, GRRM has famously quoted William Faulker:

His mantra has always been William Faulkner’s comment in his Nobel prize acceptance speech, that only the “human heart in conflict with itself… is worth writing about”. [source]

I’ve never read any Faulker, so I did just a quick search on “Faulkner and incest” and I pulled up this article on JSTOR, called Faulkner and the Politics of Incest (1998). Apparently, Faulkner explores the incest motif in at least five novels, therefore it was enough of a distinctive theme in his work to warrant academic analysis. In this journal article, Karl F. Zender notes that:

[...] incest for Faulkner always remains tragic [...] – p. 746

Ah, we can see a bit of running theme here, can't we? But obviously, GRRM (one would hope) doesn’t just appreciate Faulkner’s writing for his extensive exploration of incest. This quote possibly sums up the potential artistic crossover between the two:

Beyond each level of achieved empathy in Faulkner's fiction stands a further level of exclusion and marginalization. – pp. 759–60

To me, the above parallels somewhat GRRM’s own interest in outcasts, in personal struggle (which incest also fits into):

I am attracted to bastards, cripples and broken things as is reflected in the book. Outcasts, second-class citizens for whatever reason. There’s more drama in characters like that, more to struggle with. [source]

Interestingly, however, this essay on Faulkner also connects his interest in the incest motif with the romantic poets, such as Percy Bysshe Shelley and Lord Byron:

As Peter Thorslev says in an important study of romantic representations of incest, " [p]arent-child incest is universally condemned in Romantic literature...; sibling incest, on the other hand, is invariably made sympathetic, is sometimes exonerated, and, in Byron's and Shelley's works, is definitely idealized.” – p. 741

Faulkner, "what draws you to incest?" ... I mean, that article gives some good explanations, actually.

Lord Byron, Manfred + The Bride of Abydos

Which brings us onto GRRM interest in the Romantics:

I was always intensely Romantic, even when I was too young to understand what that meant. But Romanticism has its dark side, as any Romantic soon discovers... which is where the melancholy comes in, I suppose. I don't know if this is a matter of artistic influences so much as it is of temperament. But there's always been something in a twilight that moves me, and a sunset speaks to me in a way that no sunrise ever has. [source]

I'm already in the process of writing a long meta about the influence of Lord Byron in ASOIAF, specifically examining this quote by GRRM:

The character I’m probably most like in real life is Samwell Tarly. Good old Sam. And the character I’d want to be? Well who wouldn’t want to be Jon Snow — the brooding, Byronic, romantic hero whom all the girls love. Theon [Greyjoy] is the one I’d fear becoming. Theon wants to be Jon Snow, but he can’t do it. He keeps making the wrong decisions. He keeps giving into his own selfish, worst impulses. [source]

Lord Byron, "what draws you to—", oh, um, right. Nevermind.

I'm not going to repeat myself here, but it's worth noting that there is a clear through line between GRRM and the Romantic writers, besides perhaps melancholic "temperament"... and it's incest.

But look, is choosing to explore the incest motif...well, a choice? Yeah, and an uncomfortable one at that, but it’s obvious that that is what GRRM is doing. I think it’s frankly a bit naive of some people to argue that GRRM would never do Jonsa because it’s pseudo-incest and therefore morally repugnant, no ifs, no buts. I’m sorry, as icky as it may be to our modern eyes, GRRM has set the president for it in his writing with the Targaryens and the Lannister twins.

The difference with them is that they knowingly commit incest, basing it in their own sense of exceptionalism, and there are/will be bad consequences — this arguably parallels the medieval narratives in which incest always ends badly, unless some kind of real penance is involved. For Jon and Sansa, however, the Jonsa argument is that they will choose not to commit incest, despite a confused attraction, and then will be rewarded in the narrative through the parentage reveal, a la Byron’s The Bride of Abydos. The Targaryens and Lannisters, in several ways excluding the incest (geez the amount of times I’ve written incest in this post), are foils for the Starks, and in particular, Jon and Sansa. Exploring the incest motif has been on the cards since the very beginning — just look at that infamous "original" outline — regardless of whether we personally consider that an interesting writing choice, or a morally inexcusable one.

Word of advice, or rather, warning... don't think you can catch me out with these kinds of questions. I have access to a university database, so if I feel like procrastinating my real academic work, I can and will pull out highly researched articles to school you, lmao.

But you know, thanks for the ask anyway, I guess.

#cappy's thoughts #I'm still on my break/hiatus #i just had some of this already written #jonsa #jon x sansa #anti bs #grrm and medieval literature #grrm and william faulkner #grrm and the romantics #grrm and tolkein #grrm and old norse literature #grrm and his literary influences #was this petty lmao?

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thusfar-artt · 4 months ago

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I'm too impatient and I'm gonna explain now what I meant. I'm planning to do a full video backed with evidence later though

Basically, for those who don't know, theres a lot of drama in the original cast, specifically between the actresses for Phoebe and Prue. It's why they killed off Prue. My problem with that is that it was sudden and imo bad storytelling. Instead, they should've gone with what they had, accidentally or on purpose, been leaning towards.

Ever since season 1, there's so many instances of Phoebe doing something morally wrong and either pulling a sad face or getting away with it. The first example that comes to mind is the love spell episode in season 1. Both Phoebe and Piper cast a love spell, which they quickly find out is basically mind control. See, Piper understood how wrong it was and doesn't go past kissing, if even that. But Phoebe goes all the way. At the end of the episode, the men are freed and it's revealed that they don't remember what happened while under the spell.

Phoebe also uses her magic with less care about personal gain then anybody else. Even Paige gets the memo after a few backlashes. Phoebe finds out in season 2 that in a possible future, she actually dies because of it. But she continues to struggle with the personal gain message. It's part of her impulsive nature, so it's not too surprising or bad.

I have more evidence but it'll make this too long so I'm gonna move on. But basically, we know Phoebe is selfish, impulsive, and doesn't have a problem doing morally wrong things.

What they should've done instead of killing Prue, with all this on the mind, they should've made Phoebe evil. Like the type where she doesn't think or care that she's evil. Maybe make it a power thing, as the weakest Charmed One, we see her jealousy a lot. And who is more powerful than the Source. Season 4 should've been Piper and Prue being reluctant to fight their baby sister and down one on the power of three because Phoebe won't help them anymore. They meet Paige and don't really want to have her join because they can reach Phoebe if they just keep trying. They have the power of three again and try to find a way to save Phoebe with a subplot of Paige either being jealous that they obviously love Phoebe more than her or hero-worshiping the Phoebe the sisters tell her about.

Phoebe finds out about Paige and gets angry and jealous and decides to become the Source because then she'll finally be the strongest. So they are all training to be more powerful and teaching Paige how to be a witch. Then at the end of the season, they have a big fight where they find out the power of three doesn't work on Phoebe because she's one of them. They get away but with the understanding that they need a new way to defeat her and Season 5, it's them learning new ways to fight with their magic. Meanwhile, Phoebe and Cole are fighting because she's changed and he prefered when she was good. Which leads to him turning to the sisters for help. Then Chris is introduced in the season 5 finale again.

Season 6, Chris is still looking to save Wyatt. Because of Phoebe turning evil, he's afraid his parents won't believe him about Chris because of fear. Up to Prince Charmed, Chris has secret meetings with Phoebe, accusing her of turning Wyatt or just saying "I'm on to you" or whatever. Phoebe is the first to find out about Chris again and uses it to try to blackmail him or hurt him or try to turn him to her side. But its still Gideon who did, but this time out of fear of Wyatt turning evil because of Phoebe, which would actually make what he does make sense.

That's as far as I've thought up, half tempted to turn this into a fanfiction. Also way long than I meant to make it. But the way this would've help bts drama is that it would separate the two actresses and give them way less scenes together while respecting both actresses and characters.

Rewatching Charmed again, though for the first time in years, its not just season 6. I'm halfway through season 2 and so far this rewatch has solidified my theory that someone in the writing room wanted Phoebe to be evil, like unredeemable evil. If it wasn't the original idea, it at least would've worked so well to deal with bts drama.

#ask me my charmed theories #charmed 1998 #og charmed #phoebe halliwell #phoebe halliwell should've been evil

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haleigh-sloth · 3 years ago

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Hi! More of a question that doesn’t really relate to the story but I thought it be interesting to ask. How do you think Toga, Dabi, and Shigaraki (even Spinner since we know more about his past then Compress’s) would react to seeing the child versions of themselves? Examples such as Shigaraki seeing a little boy seeking help, Dabi seeing one who’s just trying to survive with fresh burns, or Toga seeing a little girl with a group of friends trying to fit in (or whatever scenario you think would these encounters happen.) If your not comfortable answering, that’s alright!

Well

I think we kind of got an idea of that with Shigaraki in the vestige realm in chapter 270.

Shigaraki basically relived the few good memories that stuck with him right before everything went wrong.

His face in these moments was significantly softer than normal. It was the last comforting moments he remembers having. His reaction? He basically, in a sense, forgave Hana. Because he understands kids, and remembers what it felt to be like one (also, because he never got to grow out of really being one).

But, this is interesting to think about because BNHA has this thing about using children when delivering its messages. Children are innocent. And simple^^^. They don't have any control over their lives and are entirely dependent on the adults around them to keep them safe and guide them to making the right choices, with hopes that they'll become a productive/happy/comfortable adult. Unfortunately, for the villain trio that didn't happen, and it was because of the adults in their lives that failed them when all three of them very desperately needed them the most.

I'm not gonna touch on Spinner because, even though Spinner had a tad bit of his backstory shown, he wasn't shown as a child with hopes and dreams that were crushed by the adults responsible for him. He was crushed by a discriminatory society.

Back to the little kiddos at hand--Toga, Touya, and Tenko were all three ruined by rotten adults. They were just kids that wanted to have friends and be happy, and for two out of the three, wanted to be heroes--the coolest job ever in the eyes of a kid.

Unfortunately, none of that worked out for them. They were all let down in the worst ways.

So, Shigaraki reliving some of his (good) childhood moments, well, he seemed to soften up a bit. The memories of his mother and sister weren't a deception. They loved him unconditionally. They both accepted him for who he was, a kid who wanted to be a hero.

Touya's memories of his father are all a deception, because he was born not out of love, but for his father's pointless, ridiculous, selfish dream. And he wasn't able to find any sort of comfort or refuge in his home with any of the adults. He had to rely on his younger siblings, and they weren't capable of giving him what he needed (because they were kids).

Toga, unfortunately we don't have a lot of her family's history. But we saw enough to know that her parents, the people she needed, completely outcasted her and rejected her from an extremely early age.

So I guess my answer to your question is--I think seeing their little kid selves would affect them each differently. For Shigaraki, it looked as if it brought him a tiny bit of comfort, just for a moment. I think for Touya it would be painful. All that his childhood comprised of was pining for his father's love and attention and just being denied that over and over and over again. Toga's, while we have less to go on, I think it would hurt too. She had to have been like 4 or 5 in that little memory of her holding that bird, which is kind of the age when you start really holding onto memories. So, at that young age is when it all started to go to shit for her, so I would imagine seeing her little kid self would hurt too. There couldn't have been many good memories to bring her comfort.

I want to add onto this and say that I think we'll get to see this with Shigaraki a bit more. Especially because of the kinda cliche thing BNHA went with, where the main character can *see* the pain and memories of the enemy, before learning to empathize with them. It's kind of cliche, lol, but it works because BNHA is kinda cliche/cheesey to begin with--in a good way. I love it.

Anyway, Hori made a *realm* where the characters can essentially feel each other's emotions, which is how Midoriya changed paths from wanting to fight to wanting to save. And Hori used their child selves to show us that--

--and I've said before I really expect this moment ^^ to be completed in future chapters. It's too perfect: the magical realm vestige, feeling each other's pain/emotions IN said magical realm, an alternate scenario using their child selves. It's gotta happen. Lol. Whether we'll get a moment of their current selves watching their child selves complete this moment is either or, but I do expect a bit more Baby Tenko and Baby Deku in the future.

It's been used more so with Shigaraki and Midoriya than the other two hero:villain duos, so idk if we can expect it with them. Maybe Shouto and Touya, since they're brothers after all and they grew up in the same house. I'd love to see little Shouto talk to a 13 year old Touya, but that kinda seems to be Shig's and Dek's thing. Toga and Ochacko, I doubt it'll be used for them. But we'll see.

#bnha #bnha asks #anonymous #bnha lov #bnha league of villains #boku no hero academia #shigaraki tomura #toga himiko #shimura tenko #todoroki touya #dabi #bnha dabi #dabi bnha #bnha meta #mha meta #villain trio #lov trio

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bangteamhyuk · 4 years ago

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Seesaw (I)

Genre: Mature/Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors with benefits/Fuck buddies, Producer! Min Yoongi, Fuck girl! OC Y/N, Neighbors AU (a Spin-Off to “Moving On”)

Warning: NSFW! alot of kissing (torrid, soft, neck, and down under😉), protected sex (you can never go wrong with a rubber on, kids!), oral sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of nipple pierce (pls don’t kill me 😣), mentions of cheating, appears to be pwp but i swear there’s a plot in this..so bear with me please😖, elevator buddies (lol. thanks ggukieland for mentioning this) to eventual lovers. I’m ending this in good terms 😌

Synposis: His outfits are always in black, and if not black then it must be in dark muted tones. You pressed the button on the elevator floor, and positioned yourself at the edge. You watched his back from a distance, and turned away if he moved his head. You were always the one who start your small conversation with him: From “good day” to “good night” to “that’s interesting (whatever it is you find ‘interesting’ from him, even though you were interested in him more than the item)” and other things. You and your little crush to your neighbor who lived on the 18th floor.

Until one rainy night, all drenched and cold, and your eyes smudged all over with kohl, you found him waiting for you inside the elevator. His body slacked on the edge, hair unkempt, his jacket barely settled on his shoulder while holding on to an empty bottle of scotch.

“Rough night?” he asked while you moved to the other side of the lift, pressing the button from the elevator immediately closing its door.

“Yeah, seems you had one too?” you watched him attempt to position himself upright in amusement.

He drank from the empty bottle before he replied and realized straightaway that it’s been drained.

An idea came up to you suddenly and you asked: “I have more of that in my place. Wanna come over?”

A/N: Yoongi have been tormenting me of his visual for weeks and I just have to. Also I owe Producer!Min Yoongi to be happy. :( I hope you’ll enjoy “Seesaw” as much I enjoyed writing it. I decided to make it a mini-series because ideas are just piling up for the two.

And yep, mood song is “Seesaw” by Suga 💖

Word count: 7,190k

“Good morning” you said upon entering the elevator. You walked past him and placed your back on the steel wall for support.

“Good morning” he replied, eyes blinking.

You opened your insulated tumbler to drink your freshly brewed hot coffee you made before leaving your apartment, when you noticed something particularly interesting from the lone stranger you’re with inside the lift. “Nice bean hat” you complimented.

“It’s a gift from my friend” he looks up at the elevator screen, monitoring what floor you two are currently in before it hits the ground floor. “That coffee smells nice, Ethiopian beans?” he turned his head a little to your direction, but wasn’t trying to look back at you particularly.

“No, Tanzania Peaberry” you took a sip and levelled your eyes to the decreasing number before the elevator digital screen until it hit ‘Lobby’. “Well, have a good day!” you smiled at him as you walked past his side. Yoongi let you leave first, like a true gentleman that he is.

It was always the same dry and small conversation. Always the same feeling whenever he is around. Your little crush on the man living on the 18th floor.

——

It started about two months ago when he was running towards the closing elevator, asking for you to wait for him before you could push the close button on the lift. Normally you would mind, and would even subtly push the button hard (about once or twice) so the lift would close quickly before the other person could even enter.

But not this guy, no. The way his eyes looked at you for a second, there was something behind it, something you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. When he reaches out for the door, you knew from that moment on, it was already over. He finally came in and pushed the ‘close button’ before you.

You were charmed.

“Thank you” he panted, as he tried to catch his breath from running and crouched down on his knees right when the elevator door closed. He was wearing a black oversized hoodie and dark blue fitted jeans and black canvas shoes, but were all dripping wet.

“Didn’t expect the rain too” You pulled out your gym towel from your bag. The one you didn’t get to use because, Matt, the cute guy your friend introduced to you during her wedding day, suddenly sent you a message asking if you had any plans for this afternoon.

Naturally, you cancelled your ‘gym day’ to trade it for one steamy workout session with him inside his car. Which leaves you now with your gym outfit and other stuff perfectly unused, including your towel.

“Here” you handed it over to him, feeling sorry for the situation he was in. Wet and dirty from running outside the street. He turned to you, confused, unsure whether to accept the towel you were offering or not. “Oh don’t worry, that’s a new one. I didn’t get to the gym today so it’s not used, like at all…” you smiled.

“Thanks” he bowed a bit and gently wiped his neck and face as he pushed the 18th floor button. He shook his raven short hair a little to his side and tapped it with the towel, hoping to reduce the water trickling from the ends of his straight hair.

You pushed 17th.

“New here?” you asked.

“Yeah, I just moved two weeks ago” he gently wiped each side of his cheek for warmth.

“Has anyone ever welcomed you here?” you took a quick glance at him and furrowed your eyebrows then retracted “Well, besides the management and the security guard?” you snickered, eyes still fixed at the elevator buttons and its screen.

He chuckled at your query “No, unfortunately.”

“Bummer. Well, let that towel be the ‘first welcome gift’ then. From a neighbor” You shrugged then turned to face him and smiled.

The elevator bell rang, ‘17th floor’. You put your feet forward near the elevator door, arguing in your head whether you should ask his name or not. Usually, you don’t ask strangers for their name, especially the ones you just met. You barely knew anyone in this building, except your next-door neighbor who frequently complained about the noises you make at night.

And It’s not like he owes you anything either, so you didn’t expect that he’ll do it so casually… and yet here you are, hoping.

At least, maybe he could ask you a thing or two about you and say ‘thanks’ one more time? That’s just wishful thinking though. You suddenly remember that you did mention the towel was a gift, despite not bothering to ask if he wants it or not.

You began to worry even more, and wanted to ask if he really wants to even keep it. So, you turned around to meet him the eye and “Ah w—”

“Thank you, neighbor” he smiled and held the towel to his ear. The elevator door closes before you, stunned to see him smile. Yes, that damn smile. The kind where you forget where you live for a second, and you just nod. Leaving him behind.

“What’s your name?” you asked no one, and sighed. “Whatever… you’re welcome, neighbor” you turned away from the closed door in frustration and walked along the hallway.

——

Boys are like games. You liked it when they made you scheme so that they could find you interesting, and then trap them once they took the bait. And leave when it becomes dull.

Every so often, you try to lure in guys that interest you so that you could spend about a week or two with them, to fill in the gaps of your own boredom. You despised monotony, the way you hated commitments.

Though you were not always like this before, you once believed in ‘true love’ and ‘fairytales’, until you’ve had your heart broken a few times (mostly due to one-sided love) and then that was it. You’ve had enough. Back then, you were still young and naïve, thinking men will come and save you from this cruel world. You’ve seen it in movies, tv dramas and heard countless songs play about it on the radio, you were hopeful.

Yet no one came to save you, not even one. You came to realize that only you could save yourself from making your life any more tragic. Men are never the key to happiness. Love is not the formula in living a good life.

You looked at your own reflection and marveled at the beauty you created for yourself. And that was the thing, you saved yourself way too perfectly that you just don’t believe in love anymore. And out of nowhere, men were starting to line up.

Not like the teen romance kind of stuff, where they literally line up for you because you started to look like Gal Gadot overnight. More like, you don’t seem to care whether you get asked out or not, either way, men like you because you are a challenge. And who doesn’t like a challenge?

Because men are dying to see one day, that all the walls you’ve built for yourself would fall for them. They wanted to see a damsel in distress behind that wall.

Because men always like their ego stroke, and they always want to have the bigger prize. Unfortunately for everybody, it’s not Princess Peach who they want to save on top of a tower, they just want the game. That’s it, they want to see whether you’d fall for them or not. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s why you never let it. You refused to get too personal and you renounced commitments. You’re too proud.

Because for you, commitments are the epitome of prison. For you, commitments are just a disguise for convenience. In the same manner, convenience is a sugar-coated word for validation, caramelized to perfection.

And for whose validation? For men? Maybe then, they could make you do their laundry, cook them food, satisfy their lustful desires? Are those really an act of love or selfish desire to make their lives easy? Clearly, your choice to keep yourself free from commitments isn’t an act of rebellion against sexims and double standards. It’s actually letting yourself be free from nuisance, which is what they call “love”.

That is why you remain in your stance, that you want men for your own pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. That you want to see them admire you, kneel if they must, before you. Cry desperately for your touch. Because you’re not giving any, not until a man who thinks the same way as you do, the ones who are smart enough to knock on your door and present to you his pure intentions.

Evidently, that’s impossible, with the way men are in this god-forsaken city? The closest thing you could ever meet to a perfect man is the cardboard stand of Park Seojun, smiling at the entrance of a restaurant beside you right now.

You pat the fabric from your dress, after looking at your reflection from the glass window. Joe, your officemate, from the Design Department, finally asked you out for a ‘little dinner nearby’.

“Y/N, you sure you want to eat here? We can go to some place fancier” he asked while he folded his long sleeves.

“Two seats please” you ignored his query as you grinned over the lady who took on the customer cue. She rolled her eyes upon seeing you again with another man.

Joe went to you close and whispered “Do you have any beef with the lady?”.

“Nah, we’re good. It’s her term of endearment for saying ‘welcoming back’. I’m a regular customer here” you winked at her “so I’m sure she’s delighted to see me every time” she groaned in annoyance and let you in. She remained polite by guiding you both to an empty table.

——

Obviously that’s a lie, because next thing you knew, you were already making out with Joe inside his car, barely reaching his apartment.

“Mmm” you shifted to his seat, knees in between his legs, as he unzips your dress on your back. You helped him pull the fabric down from your shoulder, exposing your lacy lingerie, exclusive for this occasion.

“Can’t you wait until we get into my place?” he parted, panting, leaving him breathless after that torrid kiss.

“I just wanted to give you a little preview with what I can do” you smirked, as you began to kiss his ears and traced it down his neck. “Will get there, don’t worry” you gently bit his ear lobe which made him groan in pleasure. Until, someone came knocking on his window. Joe moved from his seat to see who it was.

“Lara!” he immediately stopped and pushed you away.

“Lara?” you turned to face where he was looking, and to your horror, you saw Lara. Lara, your officemate and your best friend. Lara, who perfectly knew your history and the list of men you slept with. Lara, who stood by you even after office hours and saved your ass multiple times from your mercurial boss.

You didn’t have any slightest clue she was seeing this Joe from the Design department, yet you feel like you’ve done something terribly wrong.

You quickly pulled your clothes up, while Joe immediately left you in the car to talk to Lara.

“I can explain,” he pleaded, shutting the car door hard.

“I don’t need it” Lara shook her head and took a step back.

You pulled down the headboard mirror to fix your hair and lipstick for a moment and let the two do the talking first. You listened to them argue, rather faintly from the inside of his car while you tried to put on your heels.

After you gently pat your lips with your finger, you finally decided to leave the car and went to Lara so you could take on her side and put more misery over Joe, the canker cheater. Besides, isn’t it Joe’s fault that you are all in this muddling position?

“I always knew I shouldn’t be friends with a slut like you!” she spat a disgusted look on you.

Your mouth went agape, bewildered at her reaction “Excuse me? I didn’t know Joe’s seeing you”. You were expecting that above all, she would understand the current situation, that it was Joe and not you who started out all this mess. Why does it feel like you’ve put gas in to the fire? When the one who deserves all these words is Joe.

“So, is it my fault now? That I didn’t tell you I’m seeing Joe?!” she scoffed and folded her arms. Now she’s starting to piss you off too.

“Because I don’t know Lara? We’re best friends? We’re not supposed to hide secrets?” you gave her a sardonic smile, which peeved her even more.

“Of course I should, the way you sleep with everyone’s boyfriend without being sorry? I definitely think I should” she bit at you, barely quivering from the words she chose against you. You must admit, that definitely hurt. Not the words she chose, not the way she barely quivered, but because it came out from someone you trust.

Lara, was the least person you thought who could inflict a burn to your already-distorted ego.

You sighed, forestalling the tears that were slowly looming around your eyes “Right, well at least I learned something about you tonight. Have a great night with Joe, I hope you two sort out things…” you pulled your bag from your shoulder and walked away but then you remember something.

You wanted to slap Joe in the face so bad right now, that the only thing that’s stopping you is the idea of an eventual ‘Physical Harm Outside Office’ complaint against you from the HR Department, well if you were careless enough to actually do it.

“There’s a thong hidden underneath your seat, which isn’t mine by the way. I only wear Kiki De Montparnasse, don’t I Lara? Well, those are Victoria’s. You know I dislike Victoria’s ” you declared, before leaving, not turning your head to face them one last time.

“We’re over Joe!” Lara screeched, as Joe pleaded even more, their voices turning inaudible as you moved farther away.

Of course, that was a lie. There were no thongs left inside Joe’s car. Just the friendship you lost with Lara. And you wanted to retaliate hard, to put everything on equal footing. Except, it didn’t feel that way, because Joe took something away from you forever: Trust.

——

Someone knocked from Yoongi’s studio. “Excuse me sir, but Mr. Park and his fiancé are waiting for you at the lounge area?” one of the staff asked, sticking her head out from the door.

“Right, tell them I’ll be there in sec!” he pushed a few buttons on his keyboard and then left his seat to meet his visitors.

“Hyung!” Jimin stood up from his seat to meet him, together with his fiancé… Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend.

“Hey there kid!” Yoongi went to give Jimin a brief hug, and gestured to them to return to their seats. “Hey there” he nodded and smiled weakly to his ex, not that he’s sour or hostile towards her, but he was just in a tight position seeing the two of them together in one room.

“Hyung, I’ve been really meaning to ask you, but I know it’s pretty awkward considering the two of you well, you were once, you know” he scratched the back of his neck, trying to find proper words but decided to continue anyway “together… and I know this is sudden too, but we reserved a seat for you on our wedding day tomorrow, and hopefully as one of my groomsmen…”

Be there on their wedding day? Tomorrow? As one of his groomsmen? Is this a joke? He was baffled for a moment, but his face remained stoic. “I can’t. I’m sorry…” he nodded coolly.

Yoongi saw how she quickly held on to Jimin’s hand tight, to give Jimin comfort from the rejection they expected from him.

“We understand” Jimin breathed and faced the ground.

“It’s not like that” Yoongi lied. “You know that contract I just had for a soft drink commercial? Well apparently they wanted a full revision on the song, so I just had to finish it before the weekends”

“Oh” Jimin smiled shyly “that’s unfortunate…”

Yoongi turned to face his ex, who knew him fluently. He gulped and smiled weakly, hoping the message would come across to ‘Not tell Jimin’. She nodded, fully understanding what Yoongi had in mind.

He wanted to save everybody (especially her family who knew him for years, and their common friends who’ll come by) to see an uncomfortable scene on their special occasion: An ex on a wedding day.

Hours passed, and Yoongi politely offered to see them leave the office building while bidding them good luck for tomorrow.

“Excuse me, I just need to get this” Jimin took his phone to his ears and left them to receive the call from his manager. “Yeah, they’re there? All areas secured? Yeah, thank you. Hopefully, we can avoid paparazzi and obsessive fans at the wedding venue tomorrow…” Yoongi heard him say, his voice turning faint as he walked far.

“Yoongi” she quickly but subtly held his hand “Just say it…” she shut her eyes and pleaded him.

Yoongi knew what she meant, and even if he still feels something for her, he had to do it. “Don’t do this… I know it’s probably just wedding jitters, and maybe we really haven’t had a proper closure when we broke up, but Jimin is a good guy. He’s better. Please, be with him” he said softly, resisting to meet her eyes.

“I’m so sorry for leaving you that night, I should have stuck out to you then, and understand you, I really lo—“ she started to talk fast, while her eyes glistened.

“Stop” Yoongi, moved back, pulling his own hand away from her. “You made the right decision, and I also made mine. Everything falls perfectly, where it should be” Yoongi bit his lip, maddened to hear her regret. For what? What good does it make to agree with her and run? To destroy a relationship right before their wedding day? He’s not dumb to take the bait.

After years of being left behind, years of putting him in the dark after she left, years of hoping that the two of them can get back together. Only to find later, by chance, that she was already dating his colleague, Jimin. “Stop!” he repeated, taking another step away from her.

Jimin ran back to her side, clueless of what just happened between her and Yoongi. “I’m sleepy, love” she yawned, trying to mask her teary eyes that started when she pleaded Yoongi to take her back.

Yoongi nodded “I’m sure you two are tired from all the planning. I really appreciate you two for visiting. Take care! I need to get back to the studio, client’s calling too!`` He quickly turned away and left, digging his hand in his pockets to hide his shaking palms. The thought of almost agreeing to take her back, right on the night before their wedding, sends shivers down his spine.

He needed a drink.

——

You fumbled on your wallet and realized that you left your transportation card on the office desk. Honestly, you thought you wouldn’t need it when Joe offered to drive you home. “Please, at least a change, at least a change…” you mumbled it like a mantra, praying something helpful would appear, but didn’t.

Even when you dug deeper in your bag, there was no spare change in sight, only your credit card. You didn’t expect the night to turn out so bad. Even worse, it was starting to rain. It didn’t have an umbrella either.

You paused in the middle of the street to cry, not being able to comprehend the series of unfortunate events. You watched the rain flushed down your makeup from a convex mirror hanging on a pole. Your eyes were starting to look like raccoons. Your favorite dress is already drenched and filthy from street dust and smoke. Yet you remained walking, hoping that if you continued to raise your hand every so often, a taxi would come by and let you in.

But even after an hour, no one bothered to let a rain-drenched woman into their dry and pristine car. Until it took you long enough to arrive at your apartment lobby, and you sighed in relief. You shook your head when the security wanted to ask what happened, and declined when the service staff offered you a seat to wait on the couch and bring you a towel. You just wanted to get to your home quickly.

And there he was, inside the elevator, your little crush who lives on the 18th floor.

You saw him drink the last drop from his bottle before he pressed a button, when his eyes widened upon seeing you in a poor state. You walked towards him.

In an attempt to look sober in front of a stranger, Yoongi fixed his posture and quickly pressed the ‘open door button’ and waited for you inside.

“Rough night?” he asked while you moved to the other side of the lift and watched you press the ‘close button’ from the elevator, immediately closing its door. His body fell almost instantly on the slight movement of the lift that shifted towards the upper floors. His body slacked on the edge, hair unkempt, and his dark denim jacket barely settled on his shoulder while he held onto his empty bottle of scotch.

“Yeah, seems you had one too?” you watched his attempt to reposition himself again upright, in amusement.

He drank from the empty bottle before he could reply and realized straightaway that it’s been drained.

“I uh” he gulped “I met my ex a while ago, and she pleaded with me to take her back right before her wedding day” he drunkenly confessed, and giggled to hear himself say it.

“That’s rough buddy…” you folded your arms and watched the elevator screen, as usual.

“What’s your sob story?” he asked, blinking as he tried to mask his insobriety.

“Oh this?” you momentarily look at your drenched clothes. “Well I found out the guy I was out with, ‘double-dipping’ me and my best friend”

“That’s even tougher” he chuckled as he peered on to his empty bottle, wishing that a drop would magically appear out of nowhere.

“I think we’re even” you watched him silently, trying hard not to laugh to see him in his drunken state, until an idea suddenly came up. You asked: “I have more of that in my place. Wanna come over?”

——

The moment you two stepped out of the elevator, you found your bodies pressed together.

Lips knotted on each other, wet and tacky. You moved back while he pressed you forward along the hallway. He then moved to force you up against a wall, pressing himself to you even harder.

Yoongi didn’t waste a minute and pushed his tongue in between your lips, and you reciprocated. You roughly brushed your hand towards his hair, and pulled him even closer to you and deepened your kiss. Whatever it is you two were doing.

He parted and pressed kisses on your throat, his fingers reaching down to your waist and clutched your bottoms.

It was so sudden, so fluid, that you almost forgot that you were still outside from your place.

“Oh, bless you two!” your 60 year old next-door neighbor cried, who just went out of her door. Fidgeting while she tried to close it and ran towards the empty elevator.

“I’m definitely going to receive a house complaint from the management tomorrow” you chuckled. You parted for a moment, and stopped by your apartment door. You quickly entered your password on your lock screen, while he continued to press kisses on your neck. You didn’t mind if he saw it, since you were pretty sure he’s too intoxicated to remember every number.

Upon entering your door, he quickly discarded his jacket and left it on the floor, he kicked the door close. You didn’t dare break the proximity between you and him, even if it bears as a challenge to move back while taking off your shoes from the threshold, and still manage to wrestle with his tongue.

He cut the kiss briefly to remove his own shoes, but quickly as a fox. Like a clockwork, he continued where he left, back to hungrily pursuing your lips. You parted and watched your lower lip leave gradually from his soft bite. You smiled at him and began to trace kisses on his neck.

He closed his eyes and revelled from your touch. He then carried you over to your bare dinner table and hurriedly pulled your dress up, exposing your lacy underwear, while you helped him pull his shirt off exposing his pale chest. You pinched your lip, stared at him for a moment, all pleased to see him bare.

“What?” he nervously asked.

“Just thinking how I’ve always fancied seeing my neighbor naked come to a reality” you tilt your head, while your eyes remain focused on his chest.

“What a coincidence, I was thinking the same” he finally realized that you had a zipper on the back and pulled it down a bit.

“Careful, this one’s from Lanvin” you alerted him. He obediently followed and carefully pulled it down your waist. You gently pushed it away and threw it on the carpet.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you had your dress in Versace?” you laughed at his remark.

“Oh, so you could sing that Bruno Mars song? Kinky”

He chuckled at your retort. You then realized how charming he looks up close, his gums flashed before you as he grinned.

“Uhuh…” and just like that he swiftly changed from cute charming to a seductive one, as he shifted his position and watched you react to his finger pressed beneath your cloth that was keeping a barrier between your skin down below and his fingertips. “You’re wet”

You breathed at the sensation and nodded “You know for a neighbor, you are pretty friendly. Yet I never get to know your name” you whispered in his ears and unbuckled his belt. You help him pull down his pants from your seat.

He smiled, seeing you fairly repay his effort by finding your hands gently brushing his length beneath the fabric of his underwear.

“Yoongi” he replied, a bit groaning. You felt his flaccid length grow stiff at your touch.

You turn to look at it, then his eyes “Y/N” you smiled as you pulled it down and began stroking it bare. Nice and slow.

“Nice to meet you… God… that’s it” he shut his eyes and breathed, as he unclasped your bra and began cupping your breasts.

“Nice to meet you too Yoongi…” he opened his eyes, his right hand shifted to lick his fingertip and stick it between your lacy fabric down to your nub, brushing it quickly yet soft.

“That’s… yes…” you shut your eyes at the sudden contact. You were sensitive. “You know we are 3 steps away from my bedroom, why don’t we continue from there?” you gave him a peck on his lips and pulled his hand away from you. You jumped out from the table and waited for him to follow you to your bedroom door.

He just stood for a while and watched you slip your panty down, he gulped at the sight and immediately followed.

——

“Yoongi!” your toes curled, as he pulled you even closer to him. You heard him growl a little underneath you. His hands under your butt cheeks, caressing it gently while he sticks his tongue out for a taste. Seeing stars was underrated, if you must describe how wonderful his tongue techniques were when you are receiving him.

“Yeah, that’s pretty” He parted and licked what’s left of you on his lip while watching you shiver beneath him, slowly coming undone. You lost count how much you orgasm with his tongue alone. He then pushed two fingers in you and slowly stroked it in and out, and watched you unfold for the nth time to his touch.

God, you almost forgot that he’s been pleasing you for almost an hour that you forgot to return the favor. “Yoongi, stop… lie down” you gently pushed him to the side, letting him relax on his back, and began rubbing his length.

“Y/N, it’s okay. I want in” he stopped you before your mouth received him.

“Right now? You sure?” you asked, as he chuckled at the query.

“I’m fully erect, Y/N. What’s there to be unsure of? Lie down…” he commanded, and you gladly obliged.

“The condom is on the bed side table, first drawer on the left.” You pointed. He opened the drawer, and found one. He gently opened the golden foil as you helped him pull the rubber out and placed it on him.

He moaned to the cool sensation “Mmm…” he placed both your ankles on each side of his shoulder as he slowly moved inside of you.

You shut your eyes and opened your mouth wide, surprised to feel something fairly sizable and immense. He rests for a second, letting you adjust to him.

“You okay?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m tough, and I like it rough” you panted.

He chuckled momentarily, but his face turned earnest when he began to thrust inside of you slowly. From a steady placid pace, it gradually accelerated, penetrating deeper into you as he moved further. He wasn’t just hitting your sweet spot, he was unearthing everything within you. To say you’re pleased is an understatement, he definitely did more than that. “God!” he started to move fast to an inconsistent pace and finally came.

You followed.

He pulled out, and rested on your chest.

You gulped and found your throat dry from all that just happened “Want something to drink?” you sat on your side of the bed.

“No more scotch, just water. Know what? Fuck it” he pulled you back to the bed. Swiftly changed his soiled rubber to a new one. He took another condom from your bed side table and immediately entered back into you.

Turns out, the night ended unexpectedly great.

——

🎵 Love me special… love me special… love me special🎵

Your alarm resonated all over your apartment. “Alexa, stop” you commanded, as you shift from your bed and was surprised to see a motionless body you don’t recognize on the other side of your bed.

You slapped your forehead upon realizing who it was on the other end. Your little neighbor crush, now with a name: Yoongi. The song continued to play, stirring the stranger from his sleep “Nngh” he lazily scratched his neck in annoyance.

“Alexa, stop the alarm!” you exclaimed, blinking at the thought of rousing him further from his slumber. You didn’t want the idea of little chit-chats on the morning after sex. You disliked being demanded to answer questions like “how did I get here?” or “was sex good?”and etc., conversation like those are a total drag.

Regardless who it was, whether it was one night stand or a regular fuck buddy. You wanted to casually forget it by the day, then crave for it during the night. It is how you put up with stress from your work. You separate your professional life to your personal life, that’s how you endure having to face bullshit for years.

He turned around to see you put your clothes back. “Oh shit” he shut his eyes the moment his memories stirred him from his stupor.

“Morning. Look, I’ll go ahead? I’ll be late for work. You can stay as long as you like… but not too long… Whatever, just, don’t forget to take all your things on the way. I know where you live so don’t do anything funny” you put on your bra and underwear then quickly move to your open rack to take your satin robe with you to your bathroom.

“Wine” he sluggishly replied.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, you peered from the wall separating the bedroom and the baths.

“You were playing ‘Wine’. I made that.” He snickered lazily.

“Made what? Wine, this song?” you pointed to your speaker “It’s sung by a girl named Suran? Wait, are you still drunk? I have Tylenol inside the drawer– ” he smiled at the thought of you being kind and considerate. He then shook his head.

“No, I meant I produced that. I’m glad you like it enough to make it your alarm” he pulled down the duvet, exposing his bare chest. He sat up, but the brightness from your window made Yoongi squint his eyes.

“What are the odds” you chuckled, but only for a while, because when you took your phone and typed in the song on your search bar you found his name, well his other name that is.

“Suga? Are you Suga? Who named you that?” you smiled, as you turned away from him towards your shower but stopped midway.

“You produced a song for Jimin?! THE Park Jimin? the famous idol? The one who won KMA, MAMA, and Daesang… you made those songs?” you swiped further and saw a ‘breaking news’. You narrated it out loud “Look, you know about this? ‘Park Jimin just married his long time non-celebrity girlfriend’…” then paused. You remember the conversation you had with him last night, suddenly grasping and putting things together “Shit, she’s the ex, isn’t it?” you went back to face him, waiting for his response.

“Yeah” Yoongi sat up, eyes still listless. “Isn’t it Dispatch worthy?” he asked sarcastically.

“No,” you replied dryly. “You know what is?” you rested your arm on the doorway from your bathroom and watched him react “Park Jimin, has a piercing on his left nipple. That’s why you never see him wear a fitted shirt” you raised one of your eyebrows and smiled.

His eyes, which looked formerly lethargic, became wide and lively.

“Wait, what? How? When?” he opened his mouth in shock.

“He was still a rookie then I guess? Anyway it’s been years… and was very single at that… He loves that left nipple a lot, you know? That he came by too soon. He wasn’t that great to be honest, you were better, well more than better to be precise… and I guess that’s what made your ex regret her life decisions?” you shrugged as you watched him laugh hard at your remark. “So don’t be too bummed, okay? You were definitely better, and you deserve the best out there” you smiled and left him there on your bed.

“Thanks” he spoke softly as he watched you close the bathroom door.

That was the very first time you talked with someone you slept with, the morning after. And the funny thing is, you never regret doing so.

——

You didn’t want to come, but you have to, it was such a horrible position to be sitting beside your now ex-best friend while you two try to remain professional at work.

It was the first time you weren’t left with a sticky note with a smiling face, nor placed a freshly brewed coffee for her, first thing in the morning on her desk. You were both working fine, but the relationship was beyond repair.

That night after work, you found Yoongi waiting in line to get a cup of java in one of your favorite cafes.

“Hey neighbor” he smiled. “Fancy meeting you here?”

“Well I was on the way home. Then I saw you. Have you eaten dinner?” you asked, you went beside him on the line.

“Is that an invitation or are you asking me out?” he squinted his eyes towards you, as you rolled your eyes.

“It’s the former. I thought it’s around dinner time by now, maybe we could share a meal? There’s a promo on one of the restaurants nearby…” you took your phone out to show him a copy of an electronic voucher they were giving for free online.

“Sure, I like promotions. The ones that don't require me to shell out a lot” he remained stoic, despite genuinely liking the idea of cutting regular priced foods.

“Exactly” you winked at him.

——

You brought him to a BBQ place, and saw him turn ecstatic to see them actually serving Kobe Wagyu Beef.

“I must admit, you know the perfect places to eat” he affirmed.

“Of course, I’m very particular in choosing my meat” you stared at him for a second, as he watched you chew a piece, your eyes still fixated on him. He gulped.

“Wanna come over to my place, after?” he asked.

——

UPDATE: Chapter 2 is HERE!

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mugentakeda · 8 months ago

Text

zhao and lu ten having a past is just an idea i stole from a fic i vaguely remember where jeong jeong taught them both side by side. heres how their storyline goes but kinda simplified

lu ten joins jeong jeongs advanced bending classes and meets zhao > zhao immediately hates lu ten for being quite a few years younger than him but still at the same level as he is > they have a rivalry that ends up turning into a very strange friendship (???) as they spend more time together > zhao realizes he can use their friendship as means to worm his way into favor with the royal family. and also just get nice stuff > lu ten knows zhao is using him and the royal familys money but just lets him and even feeds into it because he has no other friends/peers beyond his family members and has bad isolation problems. thinks giving zhao what he wants will keep him around (not realizing zhao has greed that cant ever be satisfied lol) > they end up becoming close enough (nudge nudge) that lu ten thinks zhao is starting to keep his company because he genuinely cares. and in a weird way zhao does but he doesnt actually WANT to lol so whatever they have going on is pretty off and on due to zhao reminding himself to keep his distance > ozai realizes that zhao is an ambitious man that doesnt mind abandoning morals to get what he wants so he approaches zhao and introduces him to his designs for the throne > zhao agrees, and since he agreed to joining ozais secret campaign he has this weird feeling of guilt combined with his selfish greed for fame and reward. these feelings end up resulting in very ugly behavior towards lu ten. like hes trying to squash any and all positive feelings between himself and lu ten to make the inevitable betrayal hurt less. and when i say ugly behavior i mean screaming matches and very violent sparring > lu ten holds off on joining irohs siege for a good year and a half (and thats its own piece of au lore i made up lol). azulon and ozais pressuring is annoying but not enough to get lu ten to budge. ozai tells zhao in secret that in order for his plans to work lu ten meeds to be at ba sing se. zhao tries to convince him to change his mind and lu ten finally gives and announces he'll be joining his father > zhao and lu ten dont have contact at all in between that and lu tens departure. lu ten is weirded out by that because zhaos work has never before prevented him from showing up at the palace to harass him before but hes too busy to look into it > lu ten heads to ba sing se. Shit Occurs between him and iroh and it ends up with lu ten right outside the wall. zhao (who snuck to the earth kingdom to watch and wait until the right opportunity to attack lu ten when hes alone) ends up showing his face > zhao gives lu ten this dramatic speech about ozais plans and this that and the third and him betraying lu ten for x y and z reasons. they fight > the fight is more of a game of chicken then how their past violent spars have gone which lu ten picks up on but zhao doesnt let lu ten escape from the fight. thats because zhao isnt trying to kill lu ten himself - hes trying to lure lu ten in a trap set by none other than the dai li, because ozai has been in kahoots with long feng (kill my brothers son for me and ill get my brother off your city for you) > the trap ends up working and zhao leaves lu ten to his fate with the dai li earthbenders and heads straight for the si wong desert to find wong shi tongs library (until ozai has secured the throne and he can return).

in the context of the dai li lu ten au, long fengs men beat the living hell out of lu ten but long feng ends up deciding to keep him alive for insurance (to use as a hostage in case ozais plan that he told long feng about doesnt work). when what ozai told long feng ends up being true and irohs army retreats, he still has lu ten and isnt sure what to really do with him. so thats how lu ten ends up becoming the first of many test subjects that will become The Dai Li Brainwash Special (tm).

in the context of just regular degular canon lu ten just fucking dies alone and business proceeds as usual. obviously zhao and lu ten never confront each other again even in aus where he survives because zhao ends up fucking dying himself in the north pole so yeah.

as for how all that effects zuko and zhao, zhao spends a long time going back and forth over regret and feeling alone because despite his toxicity lu ten decided to ignore it and try to understand zhao anyway (even if that got nowhere basically) and nobody else is dumb enough to throw a guy like zhao a bone in terms of companionship. he stomps it down because despite those feelings he would still do it again because he wouldnt give up his dreams and accomplishments for anything and wants to continue gaining. the short lived satisfaction he got from besting lu ten in their final confrontation is sparked again when he watches ozai and zukos agni kai.

lu ten and zhao had pretty unbalanced aspects to their relationship despite that never being really realized by either of them. first of all their was the status difference, the age difference, zhaos general personality that already sucked from the get-go but took turns for the absolute worst after he decided to join ozai, etc etc. but despite that, zhao never really felt the need to actually BEST lu ten in fights??? their rivalry era was shortlived. but the fact that their relationship ended in betrayal and death made zhao believe that if he did try to keep lu ten under his thumb then things wouldve worked out more favorably, so he tries that approach with zuko by constantly tormenting and harassing him and shit. he doesnt actually see anything of lu ten in zuko because lu ten was a prodigy on top of being a willful traitor to the fire nation (which is another au lore thing thats its own thing lol), and to zhao, zuko is a naive and weak failure thats cursed to forever be used by his betters despite his blind loyalty to ozai. he just seeks to stomp out all of his remaining sympathy and humanity and for short lived justification for what he did so he can move on with his sorry life by being a huge creep to zuko.

i keep saying illmake more zhao lu ten content but never do

#this was very hard to simplify because i feel like that crushes the effect their dynamic had on them both lol #and to add onto it azula was the only one that knew about whatever zhao and lu ten had going on #didnt fully understand but didnt approve #since she was little at the time #was pretty mad when zhao ended up on her fathers council later but kept her mouth shut cus its not her business #but she wouldve done something if she knew how zhao was accosting zuko. just out of resentment to zhao lol #AND she was rather happy to hear about his death in the north #their relationship also exists in the runaway fire fam au but the whole betrayal and fight only exists where lu ten goes to bss #dai li lu ten #alicias writing stuff

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iwroteinapastlife · 3 years ago

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i have too many zelink ideas :( i sent asks to other people but i do not think they saw them,,, how about a scenario (pre calamity, but right after zelda is rescued by link) in which they travel in the snow, probably for the princess research; they accidentally get soaked after the ice breaks under them. they slowly make their way to a shelter, where they have to get undressed and let their clothes dry. link makes some fire and does his best not to look at the princess (and she tries to look away too) while he gives her blankets since both of them are naked (he peeks a little and becomes embarrassed). some time passes before zelda says they should cuddle for warmth, it’s freezing and when it’s late the temperature lowers considerably. link at first panics of course, he doesn’t want to overstep boundaries but they have to survive the night. yeah that’s it ;; overdone trope but i watched shadow and bone recently and i thought it was fitting

Overdone trope? Yes.

One of my favorite tropes? Also yes.

Zelda tries not to cry as Link makes them a fire. He kneels down next to the pile of wood and strikes metal on flint, and all she can do is sit there and watch, shivering and wet and wrapped up in most of the blankets they brought while he does all the work with only a single blanket draped over his shoulders despite being just as soaked as she is. With the temperature on Mount Lanayru, she knows his clothes must already be starting to freeze on his body, yet he doesn't show a single sign of discomfort. He doesn't shiver, he doesn't grimace, he doesn't even look displeased or disappointed or resentful of her as he should be. He just looks the same as always. The image of calm and grace as he goes about his dutybound tasks without complaint.

Why can't she be like him? Why can't she just do what's expected of her--what's needed of her--despite the obstacles in her path? Despite the trials and tribulations it seems are constantly thrown her way?

If Link can set a fire in the snow while his clothes freeze him solid, why can't Zelda unlock her goddess forsaken sealing power even after praying in a cold spring for hours on end to the point of collapse?

"I suppose in the morning they'll be waiting," she says in a somber tone. Link looks up from where he's started setting up a makeshift tent around the fire, but she just stares at the budding flames hiding amidst the kindling under the logs, yet to take hold. "The other champions will be expecting me at the Lanayru Gates, ready for good news." She clutches the blankets closer. "And again, I'll have failed them."

Link doesn't say anything. Even if he's come to speak with her on occasion, he knows by now that nothing he can say will help her in a moment like this. So he says nothing, and goes on making camp.

"Lanayru was my last hope," she continues. "Of all the goddesses, I always felt she was closest. More so than the goddess whose blood supposedly runs through my veins. I thought, 'of course courage and power didn't respond to me, I'm neither of those things,' but wisdom?" She laughs bitterly. "I fancied myself wise, but now I know I'm just a silly girl."

He's finished making camp then, so he takes her hand and tugs her forward, guiding her to a bedroll he's set next to the fire. As she sits down, Link walks around behind her and gently starts to pull her hair back from her face and out from under the blankets. It draws her from her thoughts somewhat--having his fingers delicately weave through her wet, tangled hair. It's unexpected, but nice.

"Your hair is going to make you more cold like this," he explains as he braids it back for her. She can immediately attest to the truth of his words; just having her hair out from under the blankets so it's no longer pressed to her bare shoulders is already helping.

"Thank you," she murmurs.

In a quieter voice, as if ashamed to say it, he adds, "You should also undress." He must be able to see the way she tenses up at the thought because he immediately continues, "Your clothes are going to freeze and you'll get sick. I-I'm going to undress too, but I'll face the other way."

He's done with her hair so he walks over to the other bedroll, angling his face away from her all the while. When he sits down, he's quick to pull off his shirt--first the champion's tunic, then the shirt he wears underneath it. He sets them aside as if they were poison and scoots himself closer to the fire, letting the skin of his back soak up as much of the heat as it can. In the light of the flames, she can see goosebumps lining the entirety of his arms, and though she feels guilty that he spent so long enduring the cold to prioritize her care, it's also somewhat of a relief to know he's still just a Hylian underneath it all.

Zelda gets distracted by the way the light shines off his back, the way his muscles flex with each of his movements as he slides off his--

With a quick intake of breath, she looks away, remembering who she is and where they are and that she should not be watching this man take off his clothes. In her peripheral, she can see him automatically turn towards her, but he stops before turning completely.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she answers perhaps a little too hastily. "I-It's just cold, that's all."

She shakes herself as she turns around, putting her back to the fire as well. Hesitant and dreading the cold, she finally forces herself to unwrap the blankets so she can take off her dress. She immediately feels a little better having it off of her--and not because of the cold.

Link clears his throat to get her attention before saying, rather timidly, "Let me know when you're ready, and I'll hang up your dress."

"R-Right." Her heart speeds up the slightest bit, and she thinks to herself that she'll at least have no trouble keeping her face warm. Finally completely undressed, she wraps herself back up in the blankets and says, "Okay, it's safe."

She looks up as he approaches and her breath catches in her throat at the sight of him. He has the blanket wrapped around his hips, but his torso is completely exposed, leaving every muscle and every scar on display. She has to force herself not to outright stare as he bends down and takes her dress. Thankfully, he appears to be looking anywhere but at her--though a small part of her whispers its disappointment at that.

"The bedroll and blankets should keep you warm," he murmurs. "You should get some rest."

Nodding and swallowing down her nerves, Zelda crawls into the bedroll and lays the blankets over the top. The cold of the snow seeps through the bottom into her back, but the blankets and the fire next to her help to ward off the worst of it. It's not comfortable, but it's enough.

She tries to sleep but it seems her mind can only take her one of two places, and neither of them give her rest. The first is to dwell on her unending failure as a princess--on the fact that no matter how hard she tries she's never good enough, and Calamity Ganon could awaken at any moment and they're unprepared and--

And the other is the simple fact that Link lies only a few feet away without any clothes on his body--his body that she so very shamefully keeps picturing in her mind, the memory of it bringing her more heat than the fire ever could.

Less than an hour has passed when she hears it. The slight shaky breathing that he tries to hold in, tries to hide. Shivering.

She turns over to look and sure enough, she can see the slight tremble of his body under the bedroll. How selfish she is, to be lying here with most of their blankets stacked on top of her while he freezes half to death.

"Link." He angles his head toward her but doesn't turn. She's surprised by the calm in her own voice as she says, "We should share a bedroll." If he has a reaction she can't see it. "I can hear you shivering. We'll both be warmer if we share heat."

A few moments pass as he seems to think about it, and he shivers throughout the seconds. Finally he nods his agreement. As he starts to get up, she turns over again and scoots over in the bedroll to make as much room for him as she can. It'll be a close fit, but the warmth will be worth whatever discomfort it causes.

That same shameful part of her mind sends a small rush through her stomach, excited at the prospect of him pressed close to her.

Zelda flinches at first contact; his skin is ice cold. "Sorry," he whispers, and she's already shaking her head.

"It's my fault," she says. "I should have known you wouldn't be warm enough with only one blanket. I wasn't thinking."

He's kept the blanket wrapped around his hips, she realizes as he finally settles in behind her. She supposes that's probably for the best--and immediately following that thought is her mentally slapping herself for having been disappointed. Dear Hylia, is she actually going to be able to handle this?

Link seems to be trying his best not to touch her at first. It's not until he stops shaking entirely that he finally seems to ease into place, allowing the smallest bits of contact. He keeps his arms bunched up in front of him, creating a barrier between them, and at that, Zelda truly is disappointed.

She convinces herself it's the cold, but really it's her restraint weakening when she tells him, "You can come closer." She feels more than hears him hold his breath. Softly, she says, "Please come closer."

His arm is still a little cold as he lays it over her, but his chest is warm against her back. As he finally settles into her, a small delicate sigh escapes him, and she feels it on the back of her neck. The sensation sends a pleasant shiver down her spine, and she fails as she tries not to soak in that feeling.

"Thank you," he eventually whispers.

A tiny laugh escapes her as the comment sinks in, because the more she thinks on it, the more ridiculous it sounds. "You're joking, right? You nearly froze. You--You pulled me out of the spring water, woke me up, bundled me in blankets, started a fire and set up camp and braided my hair all the while no doubt burning from the severely frigid clothing on your skin, and you're thanking me? I can't even unlock a power that is supposed to be in my blood, that is supposed to save all of us from certain doom, while you learned to wield the master sword as a mere boy, and you're thanking me? That's-- It's--,"

"Shh," he cuts her off with just a simple hush, whispered into her hair. His hand comes up to hold hers and he runs his thumb across the backs of her knuckles in a soothing gesture, arm tightening around her with a comforting hold. He says nothing more, but his actions are enough to have tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

They're supposed to be in this together, fight this calamity together--him with the sword and her with the goddess power. So she's been told her whole life. He held up his end of the bargain, and yet here she is, nothing more than a simple girl who wouldn't stand a chance against an eternal evil. They're supposed to be a team, a partnership, and she in her adolescent bitterness treated him with distain for months when he was always nothing but caring towards her.

In a trembling voice, she whispers, "How can you comfort me when you're the one I've failed the most?"

For once, his words come with no hesitation. "You could never fail me."

Her chest swells with the deep breath she draws in. She feels his words resonate in her soul. By reflex she wants to take them as the considerate words of a knight who is dutybound and obligated to be nice to her. Past that, she hears their genuine nature and she wants to think they're the kind words of a friend merely trying to make her feel better.

But it's neither of those. She can hear it in his tone, perhaps feel it in his hold. Or maybe she just recognizes it because it's the same way she feels for him.

Slowly, hesitantly, Zelda turns until she can see him--see the confirmation in the way he looks at her. The way he cherishes her in his gaze. He truly is the courageous one, she thinks, meeting her with those eyes that are so unafraid to admit what their feeling.

On a whim, or perhaps a mere stroke of curiosity, Zelda closes what little space there is between them, softly pressing her lips to his.

He breaths in long and deep, but otherwise shows no reaction. When Zelda pulls away, she finds him with his eyes closed, as if holding onto the feeling. When he finally opens them, he says nothing, simply watching her with the same calm understanding with which she watches him.

His heart beats steady under her ear as she lays her head on his chest. Wrapped up in his arms, sheltered in his warmth, Zelda finally allows herself to fall asleep.

#zelink #botw #loz #side note #i loved the way they played this trope in shadow and bone #it was so charming and funny and cute #those two have such a fun dynamic

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ennoshawty · 3 years ago

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[06:22] IWAIZUMI HAJIME

warnings: angst, memory loss, selfish y/n(?)

wc: 973

[a/n]: uhhh this is my first drabble/fic so of course it sucks... based off of gg strive's "let me carve your way"

I once had some sweet memories

Its worth remains all the same

Your heart drops to the floor to hear the news.

'It could be worse,' you try to reason. 'He could've been...' You shake your head at this.

Gulping down whatever apprehensions your heart tugged at you, you enter the room.

Olive green eyes follow you as you walk up to him cautiously.

"Oh...hey." he says dumbly, fiddling with the hem of his clothes and then looking down at his hands again.

"Hey," you echo weakly.

There's an awkward silence between you two, but before he can ask you something cliche like "Do I know you?", you introduce yourself.

"I'm y/n l/n, your s/o."

His eyes widen at your words. "s/o..." he repeats.

Your throat feels dry with the words in your mouth. "We'll be living together from now on. ...Is that okay?"

How can I remember those moments, sweetheart?

You've been patient, you tried to be. You made sure to expose him to familiar places, have him talk to his family and friends whenever they were free, spend countless hours with him when you had them.

With each day that had past, you were determined that you'd help him retrieve what life had robbed him bit by bit.

Years have passed and yet no true progress has been made. He was as clueless as he was in the hospital. But you refused to believe it, firmly insisting that another day would cure it all.

It isn't until you ask him again for the hundredth - no, thousandth - time - something you'd do at the end of every month.

He's so tired. Tired of trying to search for unknown memories to put you at ease, tired of sleepless nights wondering who he is, tired of having you pour so much devotion into the shell of who he used to be when all it does is cause you more pain.

You're tired too, but your resolve to somehow bring back your other half powers through your fatigue.

He sighs and shakes his head for the umpteenth time.

This time, you're too tired to keep being in denial. The horrible possibility that's been festering in the back of your mind had come to light.

Iwaizumi Hajime was gone.

Tell me

"Please," you had desperately begged. Gripping onto his shirt you clung to him, hoping your grip was tight enough to keep any part of his past self with you. "Tell me you remember something - anything."

It wasn't a fair request - you knew this.

'But life isn't fair,' you bitterly think.

Iwaizumi Hajime is an honest man.

And with the double-edged sword that was his honesty, he sliced your heartstrings with one fell swoop. "I can't."

If there's a man who can make anything

Give me the tools to live in the past

You desperately yearned for a reprieve of this hell without him. You wished you two were back in high school, poking fun at Oikawa, or sneaking to the back of the school to sneak little kisses. You wished the two of you were just starting to become adults, vowing to still stay together even with the hardships that followed.

The two of you were expecting something like taxes, long distance relationships, petty or otherwise serious arguments, the usual couple struggles.

You wished to go back to a time where the two of you didn't know any better.

It's all gone down so deep, I can't see anymore.

If that's not the way to go

Your mind spirals downward and suddenly everything around you goes dull. The places he had taken you to have lost their glow, your house seems darker no matter how many times you change the lights, your favorite dishes lose their flavor.

You'd feel both tired and sleepless at the same time, wondering if there really was any hope for the two of you to start over from scratch when he really didn't know who you were.

Soon your thoughts wanders to dark waters. 'Would it be better to let him go live another life?'

You realize you've been caging this life-sized, breathing memento in your home to painfully remind you of what you once had. Would it be better for him - and ultimately, for you to let him go?

Let me,

Let me carve your way

He wants to hate you for making him guilty for what he wasn't. He wants to think you're being unfair for expecting so much of him when he doesn't even know what to think of himself.

Instead he finds himself wishing that he could do or say something to make you feel better, anything to make him less of a stranger to you. He never worked up the courage, though, thinking that whatever he'd try would never be as good as his past self would've done. Surely any sentiment he would try to give would be like him spitting on the grave of his past self.

You've spoken of him like he was the Messiah or something. Your eyes would glow with adoration even as you looked down and your small smile told him how much he meant to you.

And it wasn't fair. How could he be that perfect guy for you?

I'm a shadow, always with you

All that's left of your Iwaizumi Hajime are photos collecting dust, tiny little knick knacks around your house, cluttered shoes at the entrance, and wilting flowers.

Clammy hands grip a pillow as you uncontrollably sob into your pillow, wishing it was him embracing you and rumbling words that would calm the raging ache in your heart.

But he's there, peeking through the small crack of the door in the dark. His heart is heavy, knowing he couldn't ever give you back whatever his past self promised you.

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi x reader

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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Just Another One

Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’

Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.

Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤

When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.

I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.

And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.

“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.

She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all.

“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.

In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.

Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.

She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.

And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?

* * *

“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.

“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“

I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.

That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.

“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“

I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.

“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret.

Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?

“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.

He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.

“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.

“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.

My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.

“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“

Before I can reply, he sends me another message.

“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“

I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.

I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.

He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo

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