#i wish i could work at one for real some day

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 14 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: Life with him is really good...Right?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/gore/death, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities, loss of identity, threatening, penetration, breeding kink, degradation kink, cockwarming, edging, overstimulation, sleepy sex (both consent!), not beta-read, if I've missed any warnings or tags please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Life was good.

Uncharacteristically so even.

There was still a tiny part of you that was tense around him and that was for various reasons. One of them being, that you never really knew when his evil persona would take over. So far you could tell, albeit roughly, but there were always moments, when he would simply snap and there was nothing you could do about it. Was that a problem? Probably, but not to you, anyways. Why? Because life was good.

The little trip to the balcony hadn’t been a one-time thing. In fact, it happened more and more regular. Not only to get naughty, because he was a freak, who liked the thought of possibly getting caught – but also because, as he said, you’ve been such a good girl for me all this time. And I told you, sweet girl, I don’t want to keep you locked away. I just needed to make sure you’re mine.

That you were. Quite obviously.

That one time when you told him you wanted to leave, it had been exactly that. One time. The reasons for that outburst were in the past so far. There were still moments when you feared punishment and rightfully so. But to your great relief, you were both learning.

You were learning not to expect a painful blow, whenever you went out of your way to speak your mind (which wasn’t quite as often as you wished, but you were getting there). Slow and steady.

And he? He was learning, too. He was learning to leave you be and control the wild beast that lived inside his mind and soul. The darkness that surrounded him became lighter every day or so it felt to you. Of course he wouldn’t let you downright insult him, without at least some punishment in sight. But he was working on himself and his behavior. He didn’t hurt you without a reason. He didn’t hurt severely. And on some lucky days, he didn’t hurt you at all.

Slow and steady.

What was probably the greatest part of it all, it felt like a relationship. A real one. Two people who shared a life together, doing all kinds of things, sharing an intimate relation, but most importantly, you talked.

You talked a lot.

And now it wasn’t only through games and the fear of punishment. It wasn’t even only you who was forced to talk. No, he talked as well. The important things were still a big issue, obviously. He didn’t have a name, an identity or a past, when it came to you. But you had the great, undying hope that one day he would trust you. Trust you enough to let you know who he was and where he came from, what made him who he was and what was truly important to him.

Sometimes you’d get those tiny, little flickers that shone through his façade, his tight mask. The moments when the look in his eyes became faraway and distant, when his voice became softer and the tension in his body gave way to something quiet. Maybe one day that would be the version of him that you would get. Entirely and without question. Without the filter to rule out his emotions for him.

Until then, though, you would make do with what you had. And what did you have?

His favorite movie? The good, the bad and the ugly. What a question. Actually, anything with Clint Eastwood in it. Haven’t you seen the man?

His favorite musician? Ennio Morricone. Did you watch that scene in Inglourious Basterds, right before the Bear Jew comes out of the cave? That scene – and that composition – it’s reason enough to watch the movie. Aside from all the Nazis getting burned, of course.

His favorite food? Tteokbokki. But they have to be spicy enough to make your tongue fall off.

You smirked to yourself as you stood by the stove, slowly stirring the rice cakes in a black pan. He was talking movies all the time and that was a language you understood well.

In a minute you needed to add the spices and that disturbingly hot, red sauce. It was something you had cooked before, back in England. You had been scrolling aimlessly through one of your countless apps, which you normally used so you wouldn’t have to think and there you found some recipe that had been viral for a while. A Korean recipe with rice cakes in a sauce, topped with sesame and green onions. It had been quite the ordeal to find rice cakes back where you lived, but when you finally did and you tasted the recipe you had so carefully and lovingly prepared, you found it was worth it. It had actually been the first step into the life you were now living.

South-Korea, you had thought. Why not?

You poured the sauce in and wanted to try it, but decided against it in the end. You’d spend the next hour trying to soothe the pain in your mouth with bread and milk. With a soft sigh, you turned off the stove and served the food on two plates. You set the table with the gentle precision of a lovely homemaker. Even the napkins were folded prettily, giving the whole scene the last touch it needed to come off as…thoughtful.

Of course you never mentioned to him that you knew the dish. He had mostly likely thought it was just another Korean word he threw around and you’d forget immediately. And you had made no attempts to make him believe differently. So, when you began to cook this, it was with the intention to surprise him. A short glance at the clock showed you that it was almost ten in the evening, so he would most likely be home soon.

Home. What an odd thought.

You sighed again and washed your hands. A lecture you had to learn only once before in your life – spicy food didn’t quite match well with eyes.

You glanced around the kitchen once more, half-expecting him to be late. After he luckily gave you the books back, you asked yourself if you should go and read something, until he arrived, but that question answered itself, the moment you heard the door creak open. A nervous smile grew on your face and you nibbled on your lower lip. For some reason, a part of you was still afraid. A tiny bit, at least. It was like you expected him to punish you for good things. For being affectionate or caring.

But the moment you saw his head perk through the door, you knew you wouldn’t get punished tonight. Well, at least not, until you gave him a reason to…or asked him to.

His face lit up in surprised delight, his brows furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

“Hello?” He murmured as he stepped closer and set the briefcase down on a chair. Your smile grew somewhat and you folded your hands behind your back.

“Hey.” You took a step closer and tilted your head to the side. “I made dinner.”

“I can see that.” He glanced at the lovely decorated kitchen table. You had put in quite some effort, looking through all the drawers until you found a tablecloth, lit some candles and then there was his favorite food. He looked from the table to you and smiled.

“And what exactly did I do to deserve this?” He raised a brow in suspicion. You returned the smile.

“I just felt like it.”

“So, you know Tteokbokki!”

You laughed quietly. “We’ll see about that. You should try it first.”

He hummed softly and stepped closer. You expected him to head for the sink and wash his hands, which he most definitely would, but before that, he stepped close to you, so close that you felt the warmth radiating off him and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Then your cheek and then your lips.

You closed eyes and leaned into the kiss, immediately aching for more. But a second later he pulled his head back and smiled again.

“I just know I’m going to love it. Thank you.”

You felt yourself blush and so you averted your gaze. He finished up getting ready and then pulled out your chair for you, like the gentleman he was, or well, he could be.

The both of you settled down and you kept a keen eye on him to check his reaction, the second he brought the fork to his lips. You half-expected him to recoil in disgust, but instead, his brows furrowed and he hummed in approval.

“This is perfect.”

You scoffed in amusement. “Stop bullshitting me.”

“No, I mean it. It’s perfectly spicy, just the way I like it. And it’s homemade. Do you know how much that me-“ He stopped himself and cleared his throat. The filter. “I really love it. Thank you.” He squeezed your hand under the table.

You smiled again and leaned back in your chair, taking a moment to simply watch him eat.

When he saw you were staring at him, he cocked a brow. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Now it’s you bullshitting me, huh?”

That made you laugh. God, how beautiful this was. Just simple, plain banter. Back and forth, like normal couples shared. You loved it.

You loved him.

When you laughed, a cocky grin grew on his face. “Mhm. I still have it in me, don’t I?”

You smirked. “Oh, shut up. For an old man.”

His grin widened and he picked up the fork, bringing it to your lips. Wordlessly, you parted them and took the food in your mouth. It was painful, of course, but you tried to keep a strong façade. And failed.

He laughed and held out a glass with milk to you, of which you took a big, grateful sip.

“Why are you making it, if you can’t even eat it?”

“You like it.”

He hummed softly. “And you remembered.”

“It’s not that hard. I collect the few things I know about you like postage stamps.”

He snorted. “Oh, so now we collect stamps, do we?”

You grinned cheekily and gently nudged his shoulder. “Eat your abnormal spicy food and shush.”

He shot you another smirk and eyed you up and down for a moment. It left you feeling oddly comfortable.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled before he took another bite. Your brows shot up and you titled your head to the side. You were better now, when it came to this. Compliments and accepting them. After all, he had no reason to lie to you whatsoever, now, did he?

“Thank you. But why are you saying that?” Not as good as you thought, but better.

He brows furrowed. “And why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged and he shot you a long, suspicious look. “I’m not taking it back.”

That made you laugh again. He sounded like petulant child and you loved him even more when he was like this. Just…easy.

Easy to love.

“Why are you laughing at me?” He joined your laughter.

You smirked and took another sip of your milk. “If you can’t tell, it’s already too late.”

Days passed, weeks even, and life was still good. Very much so.

Every now and then you would ask yourself, when will things take a dark turn again? You couldn’t help yourself. These first few weeks were stuck in your mind like a nightmare you hardly remembered and yet felt in every inch of your body. Even when you didn’t...

Your body remembered.

He had that in him. That dark, that evil. It would undoubtedly come out again at some point. That’s why you always tried to remind yourself, not to dive too deep into what you called your perfect world. At some point, you’d surely be in pain again.

Though, you had to admit, you were hardly in pain nowadays. Your mysterious man was a gentle man, when he wanted to be and that happened more and more these days. Whenever he came home, he’d make a habit of kissing you and asking you about your day. His smile came out, more and more often. On very rare occasions, when you got really lucky, you even heard him laugh. And not the mock-kind of laugh he’d have so well-rehearsed in his repertoire of masks, he had for the world to see, but the real kind. A sound so unbridled and genuine, so warm and endearing, it made something inside of you ache. Why was it so rare?

Of course he still hurt you sometimes, but that was more of a consented kind of thing. In most cases.

Whenever he decided it was time for you to cockwarm him, for example. God, you hated, when he did. Because you loved it.

You loved the feeling of having him inside you on any occasion, really. Sometimes he’d be reading the newspaper and have you on his lap, his free hand on your hip to hold you perfectly still. You always asked yourself, how on earth did he manage to read like that, without even cocking an eye brow, while you were nearly fainting in agony, because all you wanted was for him to move?

On other nights, and you were ashamed to admit how much you enjoyed it, you’d even sleep like that. You’d lay either facing away or facing him, but often clenched around him. He’d nuzzle his face in your hair and after a while he’d usually drift off like that, his breathing slowly soothing down to a soft sound. Sometimes, when he’d wake up in the middle of the night, you felt him move and grind his hips against yours, giving you the friction you so desperately desired. Sometimes it happened quickly, sometimes it took a few hours and sometimes it didn’t happen at all. But when it did and when it did take hours to get to that point, you’d normally be half-asleep and yet desperate. The second you felt him move inside you, it was as though a switch got flipped. You became needy and…

Wicked.

 For you, it didn’t matter how many times he fucked you. How many times he made you cum. When you felt him like that, you needed him. Ardently.

But in most cases you managed to be good for him, just like he asked you to. Good and perfectly still. When you did, you got rewarded. Which, in most cases, consisted of him going down on you and making you feel things with his tongue that made your toes curl and your breath stutter. He made you cum so good that you nearly forgot your own name.

At times, you did forget it. But odd enough, you didn’t really miss it. Names weren’t important. Not with him.

And then there were those other times. The times, when you got too needy, too desperate and, despite your better will, you found yourself moving against him, desperate for any kind of friction. That was when you got punished still.

Sometimes with a firm slap to get you back on track. That wasn’t enough to make you forget about your need for him though. Normally, you’d just fall back into the same pattern, given enough time. And after a while, he got more creative with his punishments. When he realized that pain was something that you were rather immune to, compared to other things, you were fucked.

Quite literally.

When you moved and disobeyed his orders not to…

He fucked you. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not at all, actually.

That was until…

You came. You came every time with him, which was something you had highly doubted, before you started this thing between you. But to your surprise, you were more than relaxed with him. And so you came.

But he didn’t stop there. No, it was a punishment after all, right?

So, he kept fucking into you, like a feral animal. Even after you came and the pleasure quickly shifted into overstimulation. You got so sensitive, it was close to painful. But he kept going.

And then, oh God, you’d come again. Of course you did. He was good at what he was doing. You came again, shuddering and gasping.

And he still wouldn’t stop.

Even when your body arched into the air and you tried to get away from him, all desperate, he’d continue fucking you, until your mind was a mess and all you could do was stutter and whimper, cry even.

It was one of his favorite ways to punish you.

When he didn’t keep you on edge or withdrew your release for the time being, he made you cum until you begged him to stop, sobbing and whimpering.

Oh, the crying turned him on, you could tell. Because it normally ended with him filling you up to the brim. And then he’d go back to sleep, wouldn’t he? With his length still buried deep inside to keep warm.

Let’s just hope you learned your lesson now, darling. I’d hate to punish you again.

He had done exactly that the night before and so you found yourself lying on the sofa, feeling sore and exhausted. When he came home that night, you were still passed out on the couch, too sleepy to even open your eyes. He regarded your broken frame with a warm, yet subtle smile and set his briefcase down. He took a few slow steps closer and watched over you for a long moment, before he reached for the nearby blanket and pulled it up to your shoulders. You weren’t really fast asleep, just somewhere in-between, so you felt his knuckles gently caress your cheek. You mumbled something in response and you heard the way he smiled, before he vanished to the bathroom and you heard the way the water got turned on.

After a while you slowly blinked your eyes open and yawned. When you saw the blanket, a smile crept onto your face and you hugged the material tightly to your body. Slowly and carefully, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, before you decided to try and cook something for a change. You got better and better at it, considering how little you knew about the Korean cuisine. Yet you had to admit, it seemed healthier than anything you had ever eaten back home.

When you couldn’t think of anything, you decided to be safe and went for Bibimbap. It was a mixture of near everything and also the fastest thing you could think of. But before you even started, you went back to your room to grab a claw clip for your hair. You swiftly did it up and made your way through the hallway, when you saw that the door to his bedroom stood open. You saw his white shirt splayed out on the bed and you just knew it smelled like him. You bit your lip as you slowly tiptoed inside and picked the shirt up, only to bury your face in the material and inhale softly.

If this wasn’t home, what would ever be?

You hummed softly to yourself, before you swiftly slid off your caramel colored skirt and your black tank top, to put his button down shirt on instead. The material hugged your body like a gentle hug and you smiled to yourself as you rolled the sleeves up in the way he would. Of course the shirt looked fairly huge on you. You took a long glance at the big mirror and smirked. It looked like a dress on you, albeit a short one. You twirled around like a ballerina and took in the way your thighs were barely covered by the material. That gave you a wicked idea.

Of course your body was begging you to leave it be, especially after last night, but the devil inside your mind forced you to keep the shirt on and make your way back to the kitchen.

In the meantime, he had finished his shower and now he sat on the couch, with the newspaper in his hand. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants (the damned bastard) and a black shirt. His hair was still damp and hung loosely into his face. He looked delicious.

When he heard you approach, he looked up, ready to greet you, when he hesitated. His gaze roamed up and down your body in a way that made you bite back a smirk.

“Hello, darling.” He murmured, without ever looking up at your face.

“Why, hello.” You purred cheerfully and approached him with slow, tiptoed steps. His gaze wandered up your legs and torso, until he finally met your gaze.

“You look…”

“I thought it suits me better than you.” You teased.

His lips curved up into a slow smile. “I can’t disagree.” He took your hand, ready to pull you onto his lap. But after last night, you felt in dire need to take some action and control.

Not, that you didn’t somehow enjoy it. But still.

You briefly squeezed his hand, before you pulled yours away. You gave him a quick peck on the lips, then took a step back.

“I’ll go cook.”

His brows shot up. “I can-“

“No.”

You hid your smirk, until you had your back facing him. With quick, measured steps, you disappeared into the kitchen, all the while pretending not to hear his frustrated groan.

The next few minutes went by rather quickly. You did a great job cooking up some ingredients and even an egg, Sunny Side Up. You quickly set the table and eventually left some rice on the stove, to slowly simmer. With a soft, exaggerated sigh you made your way back to the living room.

“It’s almost done.” You murmured as you slowly approached him. When you looked at him, you deliberately missed his face and his expression became more and more dour.

“Good. I was thinking-“

“I nearly finished my book.” You interrupted him in a sweet voice, as you sat down on his lap, causing him to freeze for a moment. It only took him a second to relax, though he seemed to have forgotten that you had interrupted him and what he even intended to say in the first place.

“That’s…good.” He murmured.

“Just two more pages. I’ll finish it quickly, before dinner, okay?”

He cocked a brow and shrugged slowly. “Sure. Suit yourself.”

His shirt rode up your thighs and revealed more and more of your skin to his gaze. He didn’t even try to be secretive about it, he was straight-up ogling you. All the while you buried your nose in your book, without reading a single word. You had to save up all your energy as not to smile.

His fingertips brushed over the skin of your thigh and you did your best to keep your expression neutral. And he, he was just…

“Are you-“

“Oh God, I didn’t see that twist coming.” You closed the book and sighed. Then you shot him an innocent look and smiled. “That was a really good book.”

You leaned back against his chest and kept up your innocent façade, all the while the look in his eyes equaled that of a bear with his fish.

“You really-“

“I’d better go and get myself another one. I’m sure the rice needs a few more minutes.”

His hand ended up in the middle of the air, while you practically jumped off of his lap. He let out a soft grunt of frustration, while you slowly swayed your way back to the bookshelf. Of course your hips swayed along and obviously his gaze did the same.

You held a finger against your lips, pretending to think, while you slowly went about the rows and rows of books. And then, what a coincidence, a book in the last row caught your attention. You smiled and bent down, pretending to read.

At the same time, his patience snapped. When his shirt rode up further, exposing just a hint of your rear to him, he let out a low growl.

“That’s enough.” He hissed. You smirked, before you slowly turned and replaced the smirk with innocent surprise.

“What? What’s enough?”

“Oh, stop this.” He slammed the newspaper down on the coffee table and stood up in a swift movement. “Stop acting all innocent. You’ve been parading around here, half-naked and ready to…”

“To what?” You murmured and tilted your head to the side in feigned curiosity. He growled again and ran a hand over his chin. Only then did you see the obvious tent in his grey sweatpants. It cost you half your life not to look down there and trust your peripheral view.

“Don’t play dumb.” He murmured. “Get over here. Now.”

You licked your lips. “But the rice-“

“Now!”

That made you laugh and there went your innocent act out of the window.

“You minx! You’re doing this on purpose!”

You chuckled. “Well…”

The look on his face was near rabid. Only the foam was missing.

“I’ll forgive you this once, if you’ll be a good girl for me and get your ass over here.”

You smirked and took a step back, circling the sofa. “And if I don’t?

He hissed in response. “You don’t want to test me today.”

And for some inexplicable reason, right then and there, you weren’t scared. That tiny part of your brain that had continued to keep up the fear, albeit briefly and barely, was completely silent. And you knew he wasn’t going to hurt you, no matter what you did.

“Make me then.”

His eyes widened and he tilted his chin up. “Oh, that’s a mistake.”

You grinned. “Oh, that’s a mistake.” You mocked his voice.

With a movement so quick that it almost made you wince, he jumped over the back of the couch and stood before you, eyeing you like a predator. You let out a soft shriek and turned on your heel, running and laughing, without looking over your shoulder.

It took him only a second to put his hand on your shoulder, but it took you only a second to shrug him off and circle the coffee table.

“That all you got, old man?”

You could have sworn you saw his lip twitch, but that would have been too easy. He tried hard to keep his expression serious.

“Grew a backbone, did you?”

You raised a brow and smirked. “Oh, boo-hoo. Did I hurt you, oppa?” You hinted a mocking curtsy.

“Oh, you just wait!” He rushed to catch you from one side, but you quickly ran the other way. When he tried the other way, you went the other way, yet again. He gave a frustrated growl.

“What now, hm?” You smirked. “Giving up already?”

He gave you a long, wild look. For a moment you almost thought he was indeed giving up, but then he rushed forward and kicked the table out of the way. It rolled over and crashed against the wall loudly. Your eyes widened in surprise and you took a step back, but before you knew it, your back was already pressed against the wall and you had to tilt your head back to stare up at him.

“You caught me.” You whispered.

He clenched his jaw and reached out a hand. You were sure. You were still sure, that you were safe.

And then…

His hand slowly tangled in your hair and gently grasped the back of your neck. He leaned down so that your lips nearly met.

“I caught you.” He whispered back, before he captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

And you let the rice burn.

A few days later, you couldn’t even tell which day it was, because every day was but a collection of memories you kept replaying in your head, he was off to work.

And to no one’s great surprise, you missed him.

Every waking moment without him was empty. The emptiness was so intense, it left you nearly suffocating. All the while, all you could do was wait. Wait and eat. Wait and sleep. Wait and read.

Sometimes, you wrote. You remembered that one time you told him about your greatest dream.

To become an author one day. You didn’t even care, if anyone knew your real name, you just wanted to touch people with your words. Like the Bronte-sisters.

Ellis Bell, huh? And who would you be?

Hana, maybe. The thought made you equally as sad as it filled you with hope.

But that was about all you did. And after hours and hours, the day neared its end. Eventually it was far past eleven, so you were sure he would be late tonight. Of course you were concerned. As you always were. You had no idea what his job was, but you could tell it was dangerous.

The man in his clean suit and a briefcase full of secrets.

When it got closer to midnight and he still wasn’t back, you decided to distract yourself, by getting yourself ready. You changed into a beautiful, white negligee with a neckline made of pretty, see-through lace. You loved it. The silk made you feel like you were the most beautiful girl on earth. And you were sure, once he saw you in it, he would totally destroy it. Chew it off or tear it down, whatever worked faster.

You did your hair down (it was slowly growing back and you barely thought back to the dreadful day that he cut it) and took a last glance at your appearance in the mirror. You smiled at yourself, something you rarely did, and eventually made your way back to his bedroom to surprise him. On his bed, wearing nothing but the negligee and a pair of…

Where were the handcuffs? You frowned as you glanced around and didn’t immediately find them. You bent down to look under the bed, but still no cuffs in sight. Your frown deepened and you gave another quick onceover, before you decided that they most likely were in the wardrobe.

You opened it and knelt down, finding the knife and several guns in the process. The small shudder brought you back to reality and you exhaled softly, before you sat back and looked at the countless weapons. Had he ever killed someone with them? Most likely.

But for a strange, inexplicable reason, you didn’t really care. Not really. Because it wasn’t real. Not then, not there, not in that moment. What was real, was him and his…

Desires.

You opened your mouth and closed it, before your fingers slowly closed around a small handgun. You swallowed thickly and carefully held it up, only to realize it was far heavier than you always assumed. The material felt cold and wrong in your hand.

Your mind involuntarily wandered back to the day he pressed one of them against your temple or…his. You closed your eyes. The thought of him…

Him…

With a shuddery gasp, the gun slipped through your fingers and landed on the carpet.

There was no thought more painful than that one. You couldn’t lose him. Not ever.

You loved him. And you loved him far too much.

Enough, to be what he wanted.

Enough, to give in to his desires.

You took another deep breath and picked up the gun again, determined to take it back to bed with you. You wanted to surprise him, right?

All you had to do beforehand was to make sure that it wasn’t loaded.

A frown formed on your face, when you realized you didn’t even know how to do that. The thought of accidentally shooting yourself, while waiting for him to come home…It didn’t sound all too appealing, though it did sound like something that could happen to you.

You sighed and already gave up the thought of ever finding the cuffs, when you caught sight of something else instead. It was far in the back of the wardrobe and you were sure, for some reason, you weren’t supposed to see it.

Of course you weren’t supposed to touch his gun, either, but you felt he would forgive you, once he realized you were slowly submitting to his every desire.

Even if it meant him fucking you, while he held a gun to your head. In your mouth…Or, God help you, somewhere else.

You were twisted. You were sure you were. Because you felt it. You felt how the thought did things to you.

But for now you tried to push the thought aside and instead glanced back at the box.

Then again, what terrible thing could be inside there?

Someone’s teeth maybe?

Your soft smile disappeared the second you realized it was possible. You nearly recoiled in disgust. But then you realized, you had to know.

It couldn’t be teeth. It was too sick. Too deranged.

Too…him?

No. No, no, no.

As if in a trance, you picked up the light, wooden box and took off the lid.

No teeth inside. Only…

Fuck.

What was in there was so much worse than teeth.

Your forehead creased into a small frown, which grew further with every second.

And suddenly you felt nauseous.

No.

Oh, no.

You nearly dropped the box and backed away like you’d been struck, the moment you heard it.

“Goddamn it." He sighed impatiently and the door slowly closed behind him. "You weren’t supposed to see that.”

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Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q

Author's note: Did I lately mention that I love you, guys?

Ps. The Tteokbokki and the teasing were anon requests! I loved them and I hope I did them justice!

[corseque]

I honestly just wanted one single plot step that I could not predict given the 10 year wait. More behind the cut, I talk about Emet too, and I'm comparing his writing favorably to Solas' writing and why it worked better for me personally, but I am just talking about the writing skill that went into the games and not the dudes themselves, I love them both dearly of course. idk this is a mess and I am not going to edit it for clarity

For me, the game was a series of me saying

"ok I knew that. cool."

"oh yeah, I knew that. I guess it's good that the larger fandom knows about that now."

"nice, but yeah I already knew that too"

"that was something we've been talking about a lot for years"

"this thing they are acting like is a huge enormous reveal that the characters could not possibly have deduced through simply thinking about it in depth over the 10 years... the fans easily figured out by thinking about it in depth 10 years ago. So you would think his girlfriend would be able to figure it out more easily than we did. Like, why couldn't the game have been like 'oh lavellan already figured that out a while ago' it would have cost them nothing"

"this is something I've been thinking about for years, and now that it's being revealed, the companions' reactions to it are very irritating and jarring and unnecessary and I really dislike the experience I'm having right now, in this, the hour of my greatest triumph"

"this thing that is happening on my screen right now is something that I wrote an essay about 2 years ago describing how it would be a letdown if it happened without the correct setup"

"this way that they're characterizing Solas makes him less likable and less interesting than I have been finding him for all these years, and I have had people tell me 'no, he's simpler than you think' for years but I guess I was wrong, he really is simpler than I thought, so that fucking sucks. I wish I could take that information out of my brain."

"this thing is a retcon of information I have been thinking about for 10 years, and so I don't know how to follow along with this new direction, and I'm not sure if I even want to because it's not particularly interesting anyway"

"aw that was sweet"

"why is it like, so very impossible to have an honest back-and-forth with my favorite character about the dilemma that was most interesting to me about the previous game"

and then, as soon as, like, the other fans had caught up to the Solas lore that was really obvious from the other games, the game was.... over without anything surprising happening, or introducing a new element or plot point or perspective, or a real true twist (or two, or three) for those of us who have thought about it too hard for too long. It was very simple and easy, much, much, much, much easier than I was imagining. It all felt sort of like that Nicholson quote:

The thing was, the whole story was so interesting to think about because in 10 years, I couldn't figure out a good solution to it!!!!! It's why I was never able to write post-game fanfic about it. So I was stoked to find out some reveal we never knew about, some new information, in maybe a SERIES of steps of new information, that made the situation more complicated but also something that could be navigated by everyone involved. I know it was asking for a lot, but they had TEN YEARS, and they seemingly had set up the things they did in DAI on purpose, so surely they had some idea of a complex and satisfying narrative that would reconcile everyone.

The reason why I was expecting this is because FFXIV did a very similar story arc, which was started AND concluded WITHIN those 10 years (so it took the FFXIV team far less time to deliver as well). And the conclusion to the story in FFXIV did what I was expecting Dragon Age to do. So I thought, "holy shit, if this is the FFXIV version of this plot, how much more complicated is DA4 going to be!?!?" The DA devs also PLAYED FFXIV so they were completely aware, several years ago, of a satisfying story ending that was pretty darn similar.

People are probably going to think "oh, well Chelsea was disappointed because she spent too much time building it up in her head" but that's exactly it - I actually speculated and thought about FFXIV's story IN DEPTH NONSTOP for a year+ before its ending came out, and the ending absolutely blew me away. FFXIV Endwalker managed to introduce information and new story elements that I was not able to figure out in the YEAR I spent speculating on the ending of FFXIV's story. It took a complicated situation and revealed several several more facets to it that I was not able to predict, but were very interesting and thematically compelling, and took us all to surprising and climactic places that we could not have predicted.

Endwalker ("end" is in the title on purpose) too, was written to be THE ULTIMATE SATISFYING ENDING for a very long-running story in the exactly way that Veilguard SHOULD HAVE for Dragon Age, so while this complexity is being explored, FFXIV also gave catharsis to many different plot threads that have been built up through the previous expansions, until finally it ends with a bang. The story is desperately good to me, I loved it, it gave me closure for Dragon Age long before Veilguard was even revealed, and going back and looking at its story has made this whole thing far less painful for me.

So, I actually did not have a picture in my mind for how things SHOULD go. I just had the thought "I hope it's complicated and there are points of view or facts that we haven't before been exposed to, and the situation is resolved respectfully for Solas, not making him look like a fucking idiot (lol, the only thing I asked for). I don't even care what happens to Solas and Lavellan, I just need the story to be complicated and interesting to think about. Please, god, don't let it be "solas is wrong and he just needs to be convinced" because that's like the simplest story you could tell with this setup"

(btw they managed to tell Emet-Selch's story without making him seem like he's being an idiot on purpose or can never get anything right, and in fact the more the story goes on, the more you think of him as smart and capable and cool, so it is possible to write.... I wasn't asking for the entire moon)

And I played it and... yeah. Most of the story beats were more simple than I wanted them to be, a lot of them didn't make sense in my heart given the writing from Inquisition. (This is another essay, but if Solas' thematic story arc was always about him needing to let go of regrets, why was his personal quest the way it was? After that quest, doesn't he end up regretting not doing more....? Why did he never really talk about regret during Inquisition? If he was so trapped by regret, why was he able to do so many actions? It doesn't mesh well to me. The whole regret thing was very quarter-baked to me, I don't even like thinking about it.) His story never seemed like one that was as simple as being about one man's regrets, but then, I guess, it was always just about one man's regrets.

Emet-Selch's personal storyline (and the way it interacts with and affects the larger story) is very similar but much more cohesive and satisfying to me. It would be difficult to explain why without the aforementioned 5-hour essay. Emet-Selch's story IS about grief and anguish on a world-shaping scale in a similar way that Solas' was apparently always about letting go of regret, but Emet's story was also very pointedly and beautifully about that one theme for the entirety of his story from every tiny detail, from beginning to end - meanwhile, it seemed to me that they tried to introduce 'regret' as the main thrust of Solas' story only in the short story with the Regret demon onward.

From Inquisition just by itself, the closest I personally could get to a story theme for Solas was his inability to trust others hurting him and the world, but his trusting others in DA4 wasn't really addressed to my satisfaction. He is never required to trust anyone before the ending, he never opens up or makes himself vulnerable at all. People find out information about him, he never really dynamically opens himself. So the personal story I thought he had was never addressed at all, while a new one about regret was introduced that never made a ton of sense to me. And I don't think this is just because of my expectations - my reaction to FFXIV proves that I am able to meet good writing where it goes in surprising directions, as long as it's interesting and thoughtful and clear.

And I think this might be part of what people felt was off about the ending - Solas is sort of uninvolved in the revelations that are about him, and doesn't do much to be part of his own ending. Part of what I loved about Solas in Inquisition is that he is not controlled by you in any way, and so he feels like his own person with a very strong sense of character.

Anyway, Emet-Selch, in a very comparable and arguably more extreme plot position, is very involved in the revelations about himself, he always feels like a very strong character who cannot be affected by the player, and the whole situation is handled with deft emotion and care and delicacy. The story is comparatively very uninterested in litigating Emet-Selch or putting him on trial - the story allows you to simply feel the way that you feel in an organic way, and Emet's story spends that energy instead actually exploring his thematic material about grief and legacy, and the larger story theme of existentialism instead, in a way that is very refreshing and interesting. I've seen a lot of western stories tie themselves in knots over "redemption" and frankly it's almost never been interesting at all. Who cares about any of that. lol

(Now, I guess this is a matter of preference, because some people really like being able to shape a character's story, but idk I rewatched the ending of FFXIV and even though there wasn't a choice with Emet, because it isn't a branching story, his story felt more satisfying to me, maybe because there isn't a patronizing choice to be made for him. He is who he is, and he fulfills a very beautiful narrative role and purpose that no other character could in the story.)

I don't know how this could have been improved to me and still allowed players to choose Solas' ending for him, but I can actually think of a few different methods, none of which involve Rook condescendingly and patronizingly lecturing Solas as if Solas had never thought about a single aspect of this horrible situation he's in before that very moment that Rook lectures him lmfao.

All this to say... idk I'm writing this and I am not going back to edit it so it's stream-of-consciousness. But yeah

I just wanted the story to be complicated on a few more levels than I could have predicted. I genuinely don't care what happened, but I thought of a few twists like the Veil coming down and yeah, I was expecting A Single Twist or reveal to happen. In a Dragon Age game.

I wanted Solas to seem cool and capable and noble and smart, and actually feel like he was as old and experienced as he is.

I wanted a clear theme I could sink my teeth into

Like notice I didn't even say anything about Solavellan. Like I never in 100 years thought they were getting a happy ending where they were both alive in bodies, and I like that we got that, but I would honestly trade it for a more complicated story. To me, if a story is sad you can always write fanfic, but if a story isn't COMPLICATED, that's a much more urgent issue.

These 3 things DA4 didn't give me in a way that satisfied me but FFXIV did. anyway idk the way my hyperfixations work, I completely switch to a new subject so talking about Dragon Age is actually hard for me right now.

[ecstxsyy]

SCREW YOU | E. BUCKLEY ❦

Buck overhears a conversation he wishes he hadn’t, but it sparks an idea in his head.

based on this ask.

18+ mdni !

evan buckley x fem reader

warnings: smut, porn with plot, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, breeding kink.

SORRY I MISSED DAY 1 GUYS I PROMISE I’LL DO TWO FICS IN ONE DAY TO MAKE UP FOR IT 😗

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EVAN BUCKLEY attained some information he wasn't quite sure he was happy he’d had learned, on the rig.

Hen was oversharing how she’d heard that May walked in on Bobby and Athena roleplaying in Bobby’s turnout gear. Everyone had expected Bobby to be the sexy firefighter, but shockingly it was Athena. This painted a picture in Buck’s head that he couldn’t erase of you all dressed up in his gear with nothing else.

The thought plagued his mind for weeks, every time he put on his turnout coat he imagined your naked body hidden away under the heavy material, your skin peeking through the unzipped zipper, his name plastered across your back. The thought practically made him drool.

Buck, stupidly enough, confided with Eddie about this fantasy. He didn't know what else to do, and Eddie, as his best friend, couldn't help but confide in you with this information.

The idea alone made you blush immediately, the thought of it sending a thrill through you. It wasn't something you’d thought about before but now the ideas ran wild through your head.

Fortunately enough, Valentine’s Day was coming up, and what better gift to give Buck than his own real-life wet dream?

You and Eddie had already been planning his surprise for a few days, Eddie was going to take Buck’s turnout coat home after their shift together the night of the 13th. You and Eddie both already knew that Buck had taken off for the 14th to spend the day with you, but, he had no idea of what truly was going to unfold that day.

The morning of Valentine’s Day, you woke with a smirk. You wanted to wait until later in the night to surprise him, but, you just couldn't wait.

You hopped up out of bed, ran to the closet, and dug Buck’s coat out of the back corner of your closet where you hid it the night before. You tried to be as silent as possible, tiptoeing to the bathroom to strip and change into the coat before Buck woke up.

You slipped off all of your clothes and slid the heavy jacket over your shoulders, you weren’t exactly sure how to make it feel sexy seeing as you felt like a child playing dress up, but you could make it work.

Once the coat was on you waited until you began to hear Buck stir in his sleep to open the door and creep over to your bedroom quietly. As you looked through the crack of the door, you saw Buck stand and stretch the sleep out of his muscles.

You waited for him to finish before slowly creeping into the room, watching his face change as his eyes raked up and down your body.

“Oh fuck,” Buck sighed, the blood rushing from his head to his dick in seconds, he swore it made him slightly light-headed. A million thoughts ran through his head at once, he truly could not believe the sight in front of him.

“Eddie told me about your little wet dream,” you teased, sliding the jacket down your shoulders so it hung around you even looser.

“Yeah and I’m definitely gonna kill him at work tomorrow, but for now, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” Buck mumbled as he got closer to you, pulling you into his body heat to press his lips against yours.

He kissed you fervently, your tongues clashing against each other. Buck felt like he was floating, the whole moment felt like a dream.

“So, I guess you like your gift?” You smiled as you pulled away from him.

“Oh, I love it, and I can't wait to enjoy it all day long,” Buck smirked, scooping you up so your legs wrapped around his waist.

He walked you over to the bed slowly, setting you down as he began to kiss you again. You couldn't get enough of him, if you’d known he’d go this crazy for this you would have done it a long time ago.

Buck kissed down your jaw before standing up to look at you in awe, taking in all the details. Your smooth skin looked so pretty, the rough material of the coat made your skin look like silk. He grabbed your leg, rubbing his hands up and down your calf and your legs practically spread on their own, revealing your bare cunt to him, glistening in the light with your wetness.

“All this for me? God, I must be the luckiest man alive, he sighed, kissing down the inside of your leg until he reached your thigh.

Buck licked a long stripe up the inside of your thigh, stopping once he reached your folds. You let out a whine, you wanted his head between your legs so bad.

“Fuck, baby, I’m sorry but I can’t wait to fuck you,” Buck mumbled, pulling down his sweats just enough to let his cock spring free. You couldn't complain, Buck fucked you in a way nobody else ever could.

Before he slid himself inside of you, he flipped you onto all fours, he wanted to see his name plastered across your back while he made you cum until you saw stars.

As his cock slid into you, you shuddered. He was so deep inside of you, hitting every nook and cranny that you didn't even know existed. Buck made you feel so full, his cock stuffing you.

“Oh my God, Buck,” You whined, pushing your hips back to fuck yourself on him. When Buck felt this he grabbed your hips, freezing them in place as he began to pound into you from behind. His sudden thrusts made you cry out in pleasure, your legs already trembling.

“Look at you, already a little mess for me,” Buck chuckled, smacking your ass a few times before grabbing a handful of each ass cheek, using your ass to help drag you back on his cock faster.

Your pussy practically wept for him, your arousal leaking out from around his cock. The sounds coming from between the two of you were crude, they even made Buck blush a bit. Your pussy squelched around him, your grip on the sheets making your knuckles turn a bony white color.

“Oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you cried out, your hand moving to rub your clit rapidly.

“Damn, baby, already?” Buck teased. He knew how fast he could make you cum, in fact, it was one of his proudest achievements. He teased you about it constantly.

You ignored his comment and hid your face in the sheets, taking his quick thrusts while you tried to hold off your orgasm for as long as you could. Little did you know, Buck was in the same boat. You in his gear did sinful things to his cock and his mind, his fantasies couldn't nearly compare to the real sight in front of him.

“Can’t wait to give you my last name, fill you up with all my babies,” Buck fantasized out loud, dreaming of the life ahead of the two of you. Those words alone sent you over the edge, your orgasms tearing through your trembling body.

Instead of slowing down, your orgasm made him pick up his pace. Buck plowed into you, his tip bullying your cervix making your vision go white. Before your first orgasm was over, a second one hit you like a train.

You didn't realize a coat would make Buck go this wild, your pussy begged for a break but you greedily wanted more.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna put my babies all inside of you,” Buck moaned, his hips starting to falter.

Before you could respond, Buck shot his load deep inside of you, fucking it into you to make sure it all stays inside. He fully intended to get you pregnant, he couldn't wait to watch your belly swell.

Buck pulled his cock out of you, spreading your folds to watch his cum leak out of you. He used his first two fingers to scoop up the thick fluid before pushing it back inside of you, fingering it all in.

“Look at this pretty pussy, so swollen and sensitive,” Buck teased, slapping your clit lightly to watch the way your body jolts away. You looked so fucked out, the only thing covering you while you lay on the bed being his turnout coat.

Buck grabbed the coat lightly, sliding it off of you and going to grab one of his LAFD shirts. He helped you redress into more of his clothes and laid you back down in the bed, cuddling up next to you.

“Marry me.” Buck blurted out, the words made your eyes bulge out, the saliva in your mouth getting trapped in your throat.

“What?”

“I said marry me,” Buck repeated, confirming that you aren't just crazy and hearing things. “I was gonna do this later and go all out, but, I can’t wait.”

Buck stood off the bed and reached into your bed side table, grabbing the small velvet box that sat inside the drawer. He then dropped down to get on one knee beside the bed.

“Will you marry me?” Buck asked, his smile beaming.

“Of course, Buck,” you giggled, pulling him into a kiss. Buck fully planned on consummating not only his marriage but his engagement as well, no matter how untraditional.

Maybe Buck didn't wanna kill Eddie so much after all.

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

cupid’s candy hearts masterlist

[literaryvein-reblogs]

hiii, i am writing my first book/novel. its highlighting d***th, romance, mystery, politics, pretty questionable characters w revenge, thriller and lots of women n power play. its my first book and im not that educated about such themes. but this rough plot i have in my mind is so beautiful that underperforming this excellent trope would be a shame....ive never written before so could you please what to do to actually write this kinda theme to my heart's satisfaction. I've never written a freaking chap before and now im really lost

Writing Ideas: Revenge Tropes

some tropes related to revenge, thriller, women, and power play

Afterlife Avenger: This trope involves the circumstance where a character explicitly still chooses to pursue conflicts against whatever's left of their hated target long after they've passed.

Best Served Cold: Named for the French (or Sicilian, or Klingon, or drow, depending on who you ask) proverb, "Revenge is a dish best served cold." At least in the case of drow, it also means one can have well-planned revenge and drive them mad with fear as a bonus.

Crusading Widow: The death or murder of their significant other motivates the character to seek revenge.

Defeat as Backstory: A protagonist (or some other character's backstory) in a story begins by having been defeated either before the story began, or early on in the story (often in a prologue).

Dying Curse: With his dying breath, a character wishes ill fortune upon his killers, or some other personal enemy.

Pay Evil unto Evil: In real life, the sort of thinking behind this trope is called "retributive justice".

Revenge Through Corruption: Instead of inflicting physical harm, the villain attacks the mind and soul.

Villain-by-Proxy Fallacy: When someone goes after not only a crime's perpetrator, but those who supplied the perpetrator or were otherwise marginally connected to it, whether or not the people involved had anything to do with the actual crime.

Woman Scorned: A woman who's been dumped, cheated on, or otherwise done wrong by her significant other (or, in some cases, merely thinks she's been).

Examples

Alexandre Dumas's The Count of Monte Cristo, probably the greatest revenge story of all time.

In the original version of Beauty and the Beast, the Prince's widowed mother goes off to fight a war and leaves a wicked fairy to help him rule. When the Prince comes of age, she tries to seduce him and turns him into a Beast when he refuses her advances.

In Moby-Dick, Captain Ahab makes it clear throughout the book that he'll pursue Moby Dick to, into, through, and out of Hell, and even then he still won't be satisfied until the whale suffers forever for its slight against him.

Crime and Punishment: One of the antagonists of the novel, Porfiry, works as a police officer and interrogator, which usually would qualify as a good-aligned job. As you further witness this officer's tactics in catching criminals, you see him commit to bribery, thievery, death-threats, and psychological torture to force an admission. Furthermore, he seems to actually enjoy it, toying with amateur criminals like a cat torturing a wounded mouse. The justification, of course, being that the victim of this was a murderer, and therefore deserves it.

George R. R. Martin's Fire & Blood: After the war, Lady Joanna Lannister has a beef to pick with the Greyjoys, who've taken up raiding the coast, including killing a few Lannisters. She decides the best course of action is go to the Iron Islands and kill every man, woman and child she can find. She just settles for burning a lot of things and abducting one Greyjoy, gelding him and turning him into her fool.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen receives a Dying Curse in Dune. After killing a combat slave in the arena, his opponent's final words are "One day one of us will get you." Given that this fighter is not just a slave, but one of the soldiers from the army of the Harkonnen's blood enemies, the Atreides, this may be prophetic.

In A Song of Ice and Fire, Arya Stark's conflation of justice and personal vengeance leads her to Villain-by-Proxy Fallacy. While many of people on her death list certainly deserve to be brought to justice, such as the Tickler for torture and Weese for abuse, others were merely acting on orders, such as the Hound, doing their jobs or are just guilty by association. Cersei Lannister is on her death list for being involved in the execution of Ned Stark, but Cersei wasn't complicit in that activity, and even spoke out against it. Same with Ilyn Payne, who was just doing his job as the royal executioner. The real mastermind of Ned's death, Littlefinger, is not on the list. Meryn Trant is on the list for killing Syrio Forel, but there isn't any evidence to confirm the crime. Polliver and Dunsen are on the list for flimsy reasons, like stealing. She has Chiswyck murdered for the crime of not being as funny as he thinks he is (granted, Chiswyck was joking about a gang rape, but that isn't the reason Arya cites as his crime). The conflation of justice and vengeance, and how that conflation leads to this trope, is one of the key themes of the entire story.

Queen Dido in The Aeneid, who prophesies that her and Aeneas's people will meet again in war (the Punic Wars — her future, Virgil's past). Particularly tragic in that it's made fairly obvious that he'd have stayed with her if he'd had the choice.

Sidney Sheldon's The Best Laid Plans: Leslie Stewart plots to ruin the career of Oliver Russell when he leaves her at the altar to marry a woman whose father promises to further his political career.

The Hunger Games: The Pay Evil Unto Evil trope is discussed all the way through Mockingjay, and reaches its culmination when President Coin suggests either executing all Capitol citizens or forcing their children into the Games.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hi, here are some tropes I found related to the themes you described. You can find more in the source linked above. Study how it is portrayed in different types of media, and in your favourite films/books, to gain inspiration for your own story. You can take the rough idea/plot you already have, and try to incorporate techniques and tropes used by other authors, but then deviate from borrowing those ideas when your story starts to flow naturally. All the best with your writing!

[torturedtypewritersdept]

earning your stripes - part two

✯ pairing:

racer!rafe cameron x fem sports reporter!reader

✯ summary:

sports reporter, y/n edwards, has the opportunity of a lifetime - interviewing nascar driver, rafe cameron. But, it may be a little bit more than she bargained for.

✯ warnings:

rafe is a sexy cocky bitch, reader is a queen, sexual innuendos, eventual smut, mature themes, rafe low key is a bitch, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

You kept thinking about Rafe after your initial interaction, but you weren’t going to let him know that and you weren’t going to go running back to your bosses crying about a boy being mean to you and refusing to interview him. Racing was already a predominantly male driven sport and that didn’t leave a lot of room for you at the table, but you had worked hard and become someone that every household recognized, they called you one of Nascar's leading women now and you were damn proud of that. You weren’t going to let some meat head race car driver convince you that you weren’t something special, even if he was beautiful and chiseled in all the right places and a leader on the track. Nope. You couldn’t go there. As dreamy as he was, he had ruined any amount of respect you’d initially had for him, simply by opening his mouth. You were brought out of your thoughts as your phone chirped, Alex’s name littering across the screen. 

Green onion. Tonight 9pm. 

You giggled at the text, knowing that she wouldn’t take no for an answer before you sent your reply. 

Only if you wear something sexy ;)

Bitch, get real. 

Her reply came with a quickness, just as you had expected and you giggled, knowing that Alex was always wearing something sexy and always, always going to look good in a bar on a friday night. You wished you could be more confident and carefree like she was. 

- 

Nine o’clock came quickly. You had wasted most of the day going over the stats of every driver in preparation for tomorrow’s race. By your account, Rafe was set to win tomorrow and Topper would probably come second or third. You liked those odds. Though, deep down if Rafe wasn’t as good of a driver, you might find him less sexy, which would be a good thing. You got up from your desk at 8:45pm, living close to downtown had its perks and not having to leave early for things was one of them. You dressed quickly in a black lacy tank top and low-rise jeans, curling your hair and throwing on a little bit of makeup before grabbing your purse and keys and heading out the door. 

By the time you got to the bar, Alex was already about five drinks deep, as you’d expected. She always pre-gamed a little too hard, even when you were in college. You found her on top of a barstool drooling over a questionable looking man as he tucked her long black hair behind her ears. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

You asked and she leapt up, squealing and pulling you in for a hug. 

“It’s about time you got here, this guy is boring!” 

She exclaimed. 

“Alex, honey, be nice.” 

You chastised her, though doing so in her drunken state you knew was a waste of time. 

“Sorry.” 

You mouthed to him and he just smiled and walked away, leaving you to tend to her antics by yourself. 

“Wanna dance!” 

She exclaimed in your ear and you merely nodded, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the dance floor. You danced for a brief moment, the dim light of the bar and the combination of the dj’s uplights created a feeling of ecstasy amidst the drinks that men in the bar kept supplying the two of you with. You continued to grind against Alex for about thirty minutes, the music bumping so violently that you could feel it under your feet. You walked out of the crowd and back to the bar for another drink when you ran into someone familiar. 

“Hey, y/n.” 

Topper said with a smile and you returned the gesture. 

“Hi, Top. Who’re your friends?” 

You questioned and he introduced them one by one. 

“Guys – this is Nascar's leading lady, y/n.” 

You blushed at Topper’s compliment. For a driver, he wasn’t half bad, he was even sweet to you most of the time. 

“Y/n – this is Kyle, Corbin, Zack, and Rafe.” 

You hadn’t even registered that the Rafe Topper was referring to was the same Rafe that you were trying so desperately to forget. Though, you probably should have; what kind of name is Rafe anyways? You remained polite as each boy said hello to you, returning the pleasantries and as your eyes met his, you swallowed thickly. He smiled that same shit eating grin and you pretended you didn’t know who he was. That’s what any self-respecting person would do in this situation, right? 

“Nice to meet you guys!” 

You exclaimed, tipping the drink in your hand and they returned the gesture, tipping their’s right back in your direction. 

“So, Nascar’s leading lady, huh? How’d you wind up, racing?” 

The one who’d introduced himself as Corbin asked and you giggled. 

“Oh, I’m not a driver! I enjoyed it a long time ago – my dad got me into it. But, I’m a sport’s reporter now, so I report on just about all of you.” 

At your revelation, Rafe almost spit out his drink, suddenly realizing who exactly you were and why you had probably made your way up to his garage the other night. Why had he made that stupid joke? 

“Anyways, Top, I’m here with Alex so I better get back to her. I’ll see you tomorrow though.” 

You said in a sweet sing-song voice before bringing him in for a hug. 

“Alright, call me if you need anything.” 

He said, rubbing the back of your hair. You nodded in response before pulling away and heading back to the dance floor where ALex was grinding on the man she had earlier been flirting with. Topper’s eyes lingered on your figure, making sure you got from point A to point B before tearing his eyes away. 

“Topper, please tell me that’s not who I think it is.” 

Rafe asked with bewildered eyes. 

“Well, who do you think it is?” 

Topper questioned. 

“She’s the hot broadcaster, isn’t she? The one all the guys like?” 

Rafe asked, fear lacing his normally overzealous and cocky tone. 

“She’s more than that, but yeah, that’s the same girl. Why?” 

Topper quickly responded. 

“I. fucked. up. – Top.” 

He muttered in a voice so low and choppy, enunciating the words in a tone so serious yet quiet that Topper almost didn’t catch what he said under the pressure of the music against his ears. 

“What did you do this time?” 

He questioned, annoyance lacing his tone. 

“I may or may not have made a joke at her expense when she came to interview me the other day.” 

Topper rolled his eyes in response.

“Rafe, what did you say to her?” 

He growled, grinding his molars against each other.

“I may or may not have asked her if she was an escort?” 

He replied sheepishly. 

“God! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

Topper was yelling at this point, so unabashedly ashamed of Rafe’s behavior and his incessant need to ruin everything. He found it comical really, the way Rafe had the ability to put his foot in his mouth within moments of meeting women; his douchebaggery could . Though, this time, it was at the expense of you – someone topper cared for deeply, and you – you weren’t just some girl in a bar. 

“I was trying to be funny and she looked so sad, Topper.” 

He replied, seemingly remorseful. 

“Of course she did, you idiot! What? You thought she was going to be happy about that?” 

He asked in an accusatory tone and Rafe could only glance between you and back to Topper, like a chastised dog. 

“Rafe, you need to find a way to make it right. She’s sweet. Joke or not – she didn’t deserve to be made to feel like that.” 

Topper growled.

“I promise, I will.” 

Rafe muttered in response, tipping back the neck of the beer bottle as it met his lips. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @akobx @allsmilesreally7 @wtfdudesblog @urdreamgirl12 @hockeybabe87 @sereneera @annaconscience @pogueprincesa @bibissparkles @obxbigsis @jjmaybankmylovee @kulekehe

[jmdbjk]

Language challenges...

The other day, I was doing my (BTS) Army duty and introducing my sister to Hobi's music: Hope World, Jack in the Box and Hope on the Street. She asked one or two questions and truthfully, I was not prepared to answer what the songs were specifically saying. I know what they are generally about but I could not even recite ONE specific lyric from HOTS. I was ashamed. I'm sorry Hobi.

[Jungkook with a bag over his head]

So I am reviewing lyrics for every song beginning with PROOF and I plan to review the lyrics for every solo album. Except Golden (more on that in a sec). Then I will move on to each album in BTS' discography and eventually the Japanese albums as well. It's definitely a task that has to be tackled in smallish chunks because... overwhelming much? Yes.

Of course I've read the translations before and I know what the gist of the songs (the ones I listen to often) are about, but singing along with them in Korean and knowing what the lyrics are...not happening in my brain. Yet.

Yes, yes... oMg NoW wE hAvE tImE tO LeArN kOrEaN aNd CaTch uP oN cOnTent...

🤪

You all know how that went over the past two and a half years.

As I am going through the songs, as it was discussed when PROOF was first released, the evolution of lyrics, musicality, themes, throughout BTS' career is quite obvious. I am also being reminded that when you are missing context, some lyrical meaning is lost in translation. Though this site has not been updated since 2023, I highly recommend it to gain some added nuances for music prior to D-Day (the last album included): Doolset Lyrics.

This site is current and has translated lyrics for all albums including solo albums but doesn't include as much explanation of certain nuances in language: Bangtan Subs

Overcoming the language and cultural nuances thing is a thing, but one thing remains, the sincerity, the pointed topic of the songs, there are none that are vague at all.

There's young love/lust, yearning, pride, fear, dreams, wonder, self-realization, anger, sadness, joy... it's all there in the lyrics.

I was reading the lyrics for Yet to Come and was overcome with emotion... the past, was it honestly the best? we've come full circle, but the best moment is yet to come.

...was the past honestly the best? I can honestly answer no to that question. The past was AWESOME. But...now older, wiser, the thoughts, opinions and reflection that will eventually become lyrics are coming from a more mature point of view. And that growth never stops, year after year. I know the best IS yet to come.

It made me wonder whats going through their minds while they are up on stage singing these songs... are they filled with a sense of nostalgia? are they filled with wonder yet again as they gaze out at the tens of thousands of points of light from Army bombs? Do their hearts burst with pride? love? exhaustion (lol)? I know they're also thinking about what comes next in the choreography but that is also a muscle memory thing and sort of goes on autopilot (reference JK forgetting to fill in for Jin during the Butter choreo during the PTD LV concert).

I can see why they'd choose to "retire" songs from a concert set list. They've outgrown them personally and artistically.

As for my sister, I think she will probably lean toward Jungkook as her bias. Circumstances created a situation where he was her first real BTS experience when I brought her with me to see I Am Still at the movie theater. It doesn't hurt that he's adorably goofy. We then listened to Golden on the way home. Accessible, that's the word that comes to mind. The english songs help those new to BTS to open their minds and when that happens, as we know, the rabbit hole is not far behind, language challenges be damned.

She is still far, far from even being baby Army. I am working on it. Wish me luck.

[hughesybear]

Max Sasson just did an interview with Brandon Astle (Abbotsford Canucks commentator)! Highlights include:

Saving the menus from the plane rides

His reaction to the trades and his friendships with the players

Speaking on Quinn's leadership and talking to him after the loss in Edmonton

Full transcript below the cut:

Astle: Well Max, your first game back in Abbotsford after a lengthy run with the big club back in Vancouver, what was it like to be back around the guys and another home game for you here?

Sasson: Yeah, it was super fun seeing everyone this morning. Some of my best friends are on this team, and a lot of them I talked to regularly when I was up, so they were all great. It was unfortunate that we lost on the first night back, but I’m just looking to come back and hone in my game and get better at stuff they told me to work on here, and hopefully get called back up at some point and help the team win.

Astle: We don’t have to talk about the loss about Calgary, it is what it is, I’m more curious about you and your experience in Vancouver. Take us through the whirlwind two and a half months being in the big leagues, that must have been so cool.

Sasson: Oh, yeah, it was a dream come true. The excitement never really ever - every single game, it felt like it was still - the lights were bright, and I had to pinch myself especially playing against some of the best players in the world. Crosby and Ovechkin, I was literally seven years old watching them play. That was the real moment in my second game I think, when Sid was going back for a puck and Letang was yelling “Sid, you got time, you got time,” and I’m like “Wow. This is insane.” These are two guys that I was literally a little kid just admiring them and crying ‘cause the Red Wings lost to them in the Stanley Cup. But it was an awesome experience, so yeah. Hopefully get back.

Astle: Would you say that was your “welcome to the NHL” moment or is there another one that stands out?

Sasson: That one was the one that sticks out for me. I mean, playing against Ovi, when he has this whole - you’re not really watching him during the warmup, but you kind of are, since he kind of holds that much stature, so seeing him just up close and personal, that was pretty cool. But yeah, Crosby, Malkin, Letang, these guys, that was my “welcome to the NHL” moment for sure.

Astle: And getting your first NHL goal a future Hall of Famer is pretty cool too, in Andrei Vasilevsky-

Sasson: No, no, no, it was Boston.

Astle: Oh, was it Boston? Oh, sorry!

Sasson: Yeah, I was like “wait, is Swayman a Hall of Famer?”

Astle: Could be, could be! But the one thing I just wish was that game was a little closer so that you could have that big celebration, what were you guys down, five-one or something?

Sasson: I know! Five-nothing, yeah.

Astle: And you had to have a subdued celebration, but was that tough not to jump out of your skin? Like, you just scored your first goal in the NHL!

Sasson: Yeah, it was tough. Obviously I was super fired up on the inside, and honestly the guys were really fired up. I had some guys come up to me like “hey, you can smile. It’s your first NHL goal, at the end of the day you’re not going to remember the win or loss, it’s the fact that you scored in the NHL.” I’ve never been a guy, though, that’s gonna - I’m always just trying to think about winning. But obviously it was awesome, right? And it was assisted by Millsy, who’s a good friend of mine, and he picked up the puck right away. It was pretty cool.

Astle: I imagine, playing in your hometown - you told me you grew up not too far away from Little Caesar’s Arena [the Red Wings’ arena], you mentioned you were heartbroken when the Penguins beat the Red Wings in Game 7, that must have been a surreal feeling seeing how many people were coming to watch your first game in Detroit.

Sasson: Yeah, it was almost overwhelming. Obviously that was a moment I’ll never forget, playing in Detroit and seeing - there were so many people there in warmups when I was just skating around, and taking it all in. Even just playing against the Red Wings, the team that I grew up idolizing, that was really cool. I think the person that had the most fun was probably my dad [laughs]. He said it was the best day of his life. So yeah, that was awesome.

Astle: What’s the best perk about being in the NHL? You hear about a lot of things, what was something that really lived up to the hype, could be travel, accommodations, per diem, the meals on the road with the guys, or just anything at all, what really stood out?

Sasson: What stood out probably was the plane, the plane rides. Just going right to the plane, hopping right on, we have great flight attendants up there. I saved a bunch of the menus that they have because I couldn’t believe that I was living this life of, you know, eating steak on the plane and stuff. So that was probably the coolest thing for me. And I asked some of the guys, I was like “do you just get used to this?” And they were like, “Yeah.” I was like “I can’t imagine,” cause I would stare [?] every single time I got on that plane. You just had pretty much whatever you wanted to eat or drink, that was really cool.

Astle: And if you don’t mind, Max, just take the fans through what it’s like to get the bad news that you’re coming back to Abbotsford, if you don’t mind sharing, a bit of a loaded question. Where were you, who tells you, what do they tell you to work on, how does that call or text go down?

Sasson: So yeah, I talked to - Patrik called me, the GM, I think when we were about to play Nashville, and he let me know I might be coming back, and then the next day he told me I was flying back. Obviously, it sucks, right? It’s tough to hear, but there was a lot of positives they gave me, and Yogi Svejkovský, the assistant coach up there, had a great PowerPoint with a bunch of video from pretty much almost all of my games. He had probably fifteen positive clips and fifteen negative clips, and probably ten clips of other guys that I could maybe see myself in their role at some point. It sucks, but at the end of the day I’m where my feet are, and I want to get better every day and help this team win, and help myself get back to the next level.

Astle: And another tough part of the business, Max, is the trades. Six players getting shipped out of the Vancouver organization, and I’m sure a couple of them you grew a close bond with, these last two and a half months. What goes through a player’s head when you see stuff like that, and did you find out just like everybody else, through online and on phones and on Twitter, stuff like that?

Sasson: Yeah, I honestly just - before the game, I had some texts saying J.T. got traded and they said there were prospects involved and other players involved, and obviously I got to the rink and I saw Bränny wasn’t playing for us tonight. He’s a great guy, and worked hard, and played really good hockey for Vancouver and played really good hockey for Abbotsford, so it’s tough to see him go. And after the game, I hear that Vincent Desharnais and Danton Heinen, two of honestly my closest buddies on Vancouver - I wish all of them nothing but the best, but that’s the business we’re in. Every team is trying to get better, and it makes sense. Pittsburgh's thinking they got better, and Vancouver's probably thinking they got better. So it’s the business we’re in, and it’s tough. And this is honestly my first real time where I’m like “wow, that sucks, these are good guys.” So, we’re human, but yeah. You gotta move on, and I’m sure the guys coming are gonna be hopefully good people as well.

Astle: What about Quinn Hughes? Talk about a guy that’s honestly probably the best player in the league right now, who you got to see on a day-to-day basis, what’s he like in practice, off the ice, what separates him from the rest?

Sasson: His confidence is unmatched, I think. Just with the puck, you know, not - I wouldn’t say cockiness, but confidence, and knowing “you can’t contain me.” Like “I am gonna do what I want.” And it shows, right? From my first training camp here, I said that he is an X-factor, and just from then he’s been taking off. And off the ice he’s a good leader, helped me - we had a tough loss against Edmonton, [he] came over on the plane and talked to me and hyped me up, and let me know what he sees and how I can help the team. And then obviously on the ice, yeah, he’s in my opinion the best defenceman in the world, and top probably three or five player in the league right now. He controls the game, and I always joke he wakes up with two points ‘cause it seems like every single game, no matter what happens, he does his thing, which is what Tocc’s always saying, “Huggy does his thing,” because it’s true. So he’s incredible.

Astle: And what do you make of your old Abbotsford roommate, Marc Gatcomb - you got your first NHL goal, and now he got one this week, what went through your mind when you saw that one come across the wire?

Sasson: Oh, yeah, I know! I figured it was only a matter of time. I guess he’s been playing really well, I haven’t been able to watch too much of it, but I’ve seen some clips. I always knew he had NHL ability with his skating, and he does things that not many people can do, where he can fly, he can hit, and coaches love that. So it was great to see, I’ve talked to him many times about - he was asking me for advice when he first got called up, and I couldn’t be happier for him. And now it’s pretty cool, ‘cause now me, [Aiden] McDonough, and Gats, we were roommates, we all have NHL goals, so it’s pretty special.

Astle: And Aiden’s having a pretty good year in the AHL as well, hopefully he can get back to the NHL.

Sasson: Yeah, he works super hard, and he’s an even better guy, so I wouldn’t be surprised.

Astle: Well Max, this has been great catching up, great to see your success in the NHL. Hopefully you can come down here, do your best, and you’re back up with the big club in no time! Thanks for your time, buddy.

Sasson: Thanks for your time, yeah.

[myraniellejkelly]

A Bitterness Welcome

╰┈➤ Suguru Niragi x Reader

Part 2

Author’s note: This is my first blog post, got this idea out of nowhere after reading too much related to this sick and twisted bastard. But I don’t support his actions and don’t know why they casted a fine actor, love Dori Sakurada. Anyways, I am planning on part two soon.

Another note: English isn’t my first language (per se), had proofread it several times, grammars ahead, this may not be an accurate depiction of a therapist, Y/N is a female, mainly each part is focus on Y/N’s story.

Warning: vulgar language, smoking, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, and angst.

Summary: In the real world, Y/N dealt her struggles as a therapist during her time working until an unfamiliar guy nearby suddenly spoke to her.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

At the morning Y/N prepare for her session meeting by each one of her patients, day by day talking about their own personal problems and struggles. She was sitting on the armchair with a note pad on her lap: re-adjust her glasses, fixing her coat, and messy bun. Y/N was observant and calm about her previous patients as much as she cares about some of them. She offered them relaxing tea, treats, or tissues sometimes during their session.

Sometimes, she wishes things would’ve been more simple for her patients to arise or heal from their past experience. It felt like Y/N did a horrible job in keeping her patients alive and moving forward, instead it become backward as if the past hadn’t gone away from everything. She had wasted her days feeling grief. That time was so dark when all she could do was to stare blankly at a sight of one of her previous patients: Ami, Fumiko, Aoi, Kenji, Kaito, and the others.

Looking at their graves as much as she brought flowers for them, whenever she might visit them or remembering when they last spoke of from their last session. Y/N wears in a formal attire: a brown trench coat and a mask with a ponytail in sneakers; another day, she has her hair down; wearing in all black clothing: trench coat, turtleneck, and pointed-toe heels. Y/N briefly sigh, while holding up a bouquet of flowers as she place it beside by the grave of Hayami Sato, then she stare for a moment. Shakily breathing from her lungs as deep as she had to hold out her tears from her eyes. The time she couldn’t resist faltering in the eyes of her new patient, who had died five days ago.

Despite this, the only rule did Y/N broke was not get too attached to your patients that you only just met. She clenched her hands firmly, resisting to shake from her body until Y/N collapsed to the ground, much as she tried to hold it, she couldn’t. She. Couldn’t.

Y/N fall down to her knees while the swell of her eyes begin to fall from her face, clenching her teeth in anger and cried while screaming. Clenching the fabric from her black buttoned shirt by her chest, then she keeps hitting against her heart while crying. Y/N couldn’t control her emotions that fled her to feel agonize, she felt like a child who witness seeing their own dead mother after their last breath.

At home, Y/N was looking down, hugging her knees while sitting on the couch in the living room. Her father came by and said, “Dear, are you alright?”

No response.

Her father heavily sigh and sat next to her, “You’ve been holding a lot after you work with your patients.”

“I don’t know, dad, did I did everything right?”

“Of course you do, you helped as many other people as much as you tried to be. The possible thing you do is that you tried your best.”

As her father wiped her tears but her face end up with a tear stain; Y/N looked at him in tiring eyes after she cried for four minutes, she sniffs after she was in pain. “Everyone made mistakes, just don’t work too hard on yourself, ay?” said by her father.

Y/N scoffed and sniffs for a moment, “Really dad?” as she lifted her eyebrow at him. “Like, come on, just bright up the mood and don’t think too much about them,” he said, wrapping his hand around her shoulder and pulled her in. Y/N lay on her father’s shoulder while he looked at her in the eyes, “It’s been a while seeing you cry since the last time you see your mother, one last time.”

She changed her expression very quickly and glare at him. “What I meant is… you shouldn’t be bottling up your emotions, dear,” he said, and didn’t mean to interpret in an offensive way. He meant that she hadn’t cry for many years, after his daughter saw her mother passed right in front of her. After seeing her glare, Y/N just doesn’t feel like living or so want to express her emotions openly to anyone, “You’re allowed to cry and it’s normal to feel this way.”

“Well,” as she rolled her eyes, “not at work and it’s a weakness, dad, how should I keep myself in calm and cold for all my life?”

“You can’t do that, Y/N, we’re human-beings and it’s our way of expressing.”

“Oh really?” asked Y/N, as she thought her father’s words were just nonsense to her, then she get off the couch and stand up. Looking down at him in glare, the eyes shows that she drastically change, wiping off her tears. “Since you’re also a goddamn doctor, how can you manage to follow up to your expectation to your patients? I mean… the only thing I hated about being a therapist, is that I get too attached all of a sudden as if they were my friends.”

No response from dad.

“I’m trying to resist everything in control because as a therapist, I shouldn’t care about the single fucking thing about their experience. And… and maybe I should’ve been more professional instead of acting like this!” and then she walked fast to her room as Y/N slammed the door. Her father sighs after trying to make her feel something, and that she should try to be herself not become someone different. She rapidly made a mess in her room: sheets, pencils, notebooks, and books about human psychology scattered on the floor. She was furious.

Y/n frantically panting with wide cold eyes, she had became more nonhuman who resisted in being a human; she who hated herself and had thought no other reasons but to maintain and control herself as it goes on. Then she squat down, covering her ears, and struggle in able to control how emotionally hurt she was. A moment later, she looked down at the photo of her and Hayami Sato: her hands were shaking and eyes twitching while clenching her teeth, then she stopped after staring at that photo. Her body was so still and realized she had to retain herself from showing the parts of herself.

⋆♤˚⟡˖ ࣪🃁 🂺 ˖⟡˚ ♤

At work, Y/N zone out and stared down at a blank notepad, she was sitting down quietly on the armchair. “Y/N?” as someone been calling her but she unable to focus from thinking, “Y/N? Y/N!” then she finally snapped out of it and looked at Arisu for a brief moment.

She cleared her throat and forgot what she was supposed to do, “Sorry, did I stopped right there?”

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

Y/N lay her head down on her palms and sigh, looking at him merely upset, “Y/N?” as she looked at the clock but is too lazy to tell from it. She asked, “What time is it, Arisu?”

“8:45,” he answered.

After realizing that she had wasted her time, staring down blankly and that she groaned in distress. Arisu was worried about Y/N as she couldn’t bear to be stable all the time while working. “Huh…” then she heavily sigh while she hissed and fixing her messy hair, which caught Arisu’s attention with a worried expression on his face. “You came at 7, right?”

Confused as he might be, instead he nodded and that it makes Y/N more frustrated. “Fuck…” she mumble, “why?”

“Y/N.”

“Arisu,” she looked at him tiredly. “I’m sorry, I’ve wasted your time talking to me… I should’ve… I should’ve focus my time talking to you about your struggles.” Y/N get up from her armchair and place the notepad on her table, then take her glasses off, “You should be leaving by now,” as she walked away but Arisu caught her wrist and then she turned to look at him.

“Y/N.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked in glare at his hand grabbing on to her.

Arisu reacted immediately as he removed his hand away and stand back a little. “O-Oh, I’m so sorry,” as he bow down multiples times in his deepest apologies. “I shouldn’t grabbed by the wrist like that and shouldn’t interfere with you.”

“Right…” she nodded, “…who couldn’t thought,” as Y/N put her hands on the pockets of her coat, then looked at the window and saw people walking by in the streets

“It’s just… you were always upset, Y/N,” he said, as it made Y/N pinching the bridge of her nose, casually making her stress even more.

“Arisu, I’m not your friend,” she said calmly, looking at him in the eyes. The fact she doesn’t see him as a friend, rather she was too focus about him being her patient, “I’m your therapist and you’re my patient.”

“Y/N, we’re neighbours and you’re my friend. You know I’m worried about you and you’ve been working all day. Isn’t it too much for you?”

The eyes of a child who has issues with his family, that it made her reminded of herself. She remembered a while ago; the last time she moved in next door to the Arisu family, unlike Y/N who never talk to him that time and that she was too shy to talk. Until now, Arisu showed up right in front of her and that was the only thing she ever remembered the first they ever met.

Everything changes, Y/N change so much that neither Arisu could see that look on her face; she become more cold and distant after a few years, Arisu couldn’t believe that a cheerful and happy neighbour he once met, became so serious and indifferent.

She sighs, reflecting back to her senses when she heard the word ‘you’re my friend’ and that it made her feel ashamed, to let him see her like this. “Just because we’re neighbours, doesn’t mean we’re either friends or whatever you referring to. The point is that I understand that you were trying to be nice to me and that you do care, alright, why not go and hang out with Chota and Karube?”

“What about you?” as he approached to her, hands on her shoulder as it caught her off guard about him, “You haven’t been in it with us for more than a month now.”

Y/N slowly took his hand away from her shoulders, yet Arisu just bow down so awkwardly in apology, “God, desperate much? Because I have responsibility and had a work to do here, Arisu.”

“Just take a break,” he said with complains, and he is really desperate because she hadn’t been with him for a year now, including his friends.

Y/N sighs and slowly said, “Fine,” as she walked away, feeling the weight of her guilt and hadn’t even thought about hangouts for more than a month. It felt like more than six months already. The silence felt awkward between them. “So, is that a yes?” as Arisu is still here standing there at her office.

“Arisu, get out of my office.”

“So, it’s a ye—”

“I said get out!”

Arisu brings his hands up in the air like he’s been caught, as he slowly moved backward towards the door as he touched the doorknob and left her office. Y/N crossed her arms and sigh in frustration, then she looked outside in the window. Arisu was down there just waving and smiling like a child, making her roll her eyes and that he was excited. She sighs and said, “God, no wonder why he learned that from irresponsible grown-ups, assholes.”

Twelve minutes later, Y/N was out at the street corridor after she’s done with her work; burning some photos of her previous patients, as she had to move on from everything that she’s been holding on for so long. Y/N watches the photos being burned to ashes by the fire bucket. She lays a cigarette on her mouth as she lastly placed one photo from Hayami Sato. But then she noticed the back of the photo and see it was written:

Dear, Dr. Y/N

Before you know it, I am dead, I’m trying to heal and move on from the past mistakes I made. But I didn’t intend to think beforehand, and that I didn’t mean to make you feel overwhelmed about the things I did. That you tried to stop me from hurting myself, you gave me an advice to ended but I still care so much about my important relationship. Don’t blame him, it was always me who I started it, and that I’m struggling to maintain of how much I hate the feeling of pain. I am still love, yet I was naive and stubborn to even listen, but the thing is you don’t know who I truly was. I may not been the slightest bit of things but it was fun being around and talk to you. Our first laugh, our first hang out, our first kind-of-friendship. You know, if I were still there more than five days, I would’ve gone to a trip to Thailand or maybe you would too. I wanna say, thank you for being there with me at all times.

Sincerely, Hayami Sato.

P.S. I miss you and please don’t forget about me :)

Y/N sighs with an upsetting look on her face as she throws the last photo, as it burns to ashes along with the others. Then she removed the cigarette from her lips and said to Hayami at the sky, “I missed you too… of course, you’ll never be forgotten,” as she sighs and put back her cigarette towards her mouth, grabbing a lighter from the pocket of her trench coat. She laid her back against the brick wall and tried opening the lighter, but her lighter runs out; Y/N was infuriated and hissed in attempt to open up the lighter, but still hasn’t lit up her cigarette.

Until a man spotted her as he lit up her cigarette with his lighter, Y/N inhaled as she was relax after removing the cigarette from her mouth, and blows as she sigh afterwards. The man was slender and tall in comparison when he stands next to Y/N. He put his hands on his pockets, while she glares and didn’t turn to look at him and said, “Thanks.”

“You seem a little stressed today?”

“What do you think?” she spoke back to him, looking at the sky.

The man leaned back against the brick wall as he sighs. “What are you doing out here?”

“Trying to relax until someone arrived just to give me shit.”

The man cockily grinned and laughed while Y/N wasn’t very focus on his face on what he may might look like. “Ooh~ someone has a hard time working today, the kind of woman who bitches me all day,” as he laughed again and that made her annoyed.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N facepalm as she laughs it off and said of an insult, “looks like someone are like those fuckers who keeps fucking and go all the time, aren’t you?”

“How would you know, if you’re not looking at me?” he asked and glance at her.

“Take a guess of what job I’m at, dipshit.”

The man looked at her top and down with a filthy grin, “Oh shit… you’re that therapist nearby.” As if then he mocks about her, “Ooh~ doctor, can you fix me by any chance? I’ve been dealing my shit for weeks. Maybe give me an advice?” he proceed to laugh.

He tilted his head just wanting her attention to look at him, but she couldn’t face him as he sighs, which it makes him frustrated over her and that he keep his hands down while he stay calm. “You look nothing like those therapist who tried to help with a bunch of assholes.”

“Hmm… I think I know what job you were, nearby, you’re a gaming engineer right?” she fake laughs, “I’ve heard so many games but they’re aren’t really to my taste, except from my neighbour who’s addicted to video games and not finding jobs for himself.” She inhaled her cigarette with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh you know when to talk, who do you think that little friend of yours, hmm…? I wanna meet him besides he is better off without you anyways,” he said, the man was annoyed and maybe a little surprise about her friend. Maybe, if he were to meet him, he would’ve pushed Y/N away from him and take him instead because he is much of a better friend than her; the other reason is that he is a little irritated about her, talking back to him with such confident descriptive insults to say, rather than simply saying, ‘Fuck you,’ or ‘Motherfucker.’

Of course, the man would’ve thought about it but it just grabs his interest about this therapist nearby at his work: her presence was enigmatic and unknown. The man smiles giving the creeps, that Y/N would’ve been disgusted about him beside her, if she were to go face to face of what he might look like.

Y/N scoffed and looked away with a forced smile that she has to put on and to deal with it. “It’s none of your fucking business, he’s not my friend, just my neighbour and besides I care,” but deep down she does see Arisu as her friend, even though it’s hard for her to even express her thoughts about him. “I always keep thinking, if a guy shows up then that means you wanna ask a lady to go out with you, is it?”

“Huh?” as he slowly nodded with amaze of her guesses, and curiosity is now shown from his face as his sharp gaze falls towards her. He couldn’t believe that she put all that together in five seconds, and didn’t expected that she would figure out. “Aren’t you as sharp as a quick-witted woman,” said the man, smiling at her, “are you some kind of psychic nerd or something?”

Y/N wasn’t so sure and just shrugs her shoulder as she doesn’t know about being called a psychic. But admitted and nodded without any shame of being called a nerd but sense something off about him. But quickly ignores it anyways, “I’m fine being a nerd, not so much about being called a psychic.”

As the man laughed, “Hey doc, I can’t quite catch your name by any chance?”

Y/N scoffed with an annoyed smile and said, “Oh go find a better girl to talk to or go fuck with.” She was about to leave in a second until he caught her arm, but she quickly turned her head and grabbed him his wrist and twisted his arm. The man grunts as he was shocked, looking at her cold gaze looking as deadly as it may appear to him; Y/N is too focused on beating him up that she didn’t even recognize his face, then she squat down and kicked his legs off and fall to the ground, and that the man got hit in the face.

She fixed her trench coat and moved the dust off from her shoulder, then walk off normally with her heels tapping away from him. The man felt surprise by the looks of her cold gaze and her beating him easily, as he doesn’t know when to expect about her. As if it brings him flashback when he was in high school, and he never thought a therapist could be a cold-blooded fighter.

But now, he snapped out of it and was pissed as he looked down, then hissed in anger after he was hit in the face, “Bitch!” he said, feeling his nose as he check the piercing from his nose.

After she walked away, the man smiled as he scoffed at the sight of her ignoring him; but for him, he can’t clearly ignore her nor move on about the way she interact with him. It made him want to see her again, he moved when he get up then sat against the brick wall; leaning his head back and cover his eyes from his arm, then moved his arm away as if now it’s on to his forehead while looking at the sky for a moment.

Then he moved his arms on to his knees and fixed his hair, the man remembers the ID that’s been sticking out by the left side pocket from her trench coat, as he snap his fingers and figure out her name was, “Y/N,” he said, and repeated again and again, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” then he lastly said out slowly, “Y/N L/N…”

He laughed and covered his eyes while smiling, hearing from her voice makes him feel crazy that he start having this urge inside of him; he seem to be getting very obsessed with her, Am I having feelings about her? he thought, his hands were on the side of his forehead, Oh shit… oh my fucking god… I do have a crush on her, that cold feisty chick.

The man slide off his hands away from his forehead, arms now back on his knees. He felt it. He felt it from his chest; It felt like a stab as the wound never goes away at the thought that he never forgets about her. “You really are something… doctor…” he said at the thought of her, licking his lips as the piercing of his tongue was shown. The man slowly nodded, looking down at the ground and sighs, “You’ll be back… you will be back.”

[xolaanii]

got hit with such a wave of sadness it knocked me straight upside the head so hard i got dizzy

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry

( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)

(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)

[ilikemicrowaves]

So many fopanw aus/episode ideas in my brain.. so many..

[phagodyke]

aouuugh my uterus......

[skrunksthatwunk]

not my dad not liking moral orel season 3 🤭🤭🤭that's so embarrassing for him (<- he's not wrong for feeling that way but i think it's like 60% because he doesn't like it when art gets weird and that's so so tragic for him)

[cinemacrypt]

So so so fucking angry tonight

[caluski]

i really really wanna get better, i really do, but its so scary to think that it will probably take long years - if i can even succeed at all. undoing everything - finding myself again, recovering, moving past all these bad things - and i really do wanna "trust the process" but god, more years of loneliness do not sound like something i can handle anymore. recently ive been thinking a lot about people ive lost thorough the years.. i wonder if im just past the healing period and this is it, like a scar that only closes but never fades away. will this last forever? can i ever get another chance at being loved?