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ultfreakme · 2 months ago

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I feel like we're just going to fundamentally disagree on a lot of things, but there are plenty of stuff here that I agree with as well. Regardless we've both interpreted the story differently but.....I think there's some, factual errors here? I am not going to make you change your mind or anything consider this just me explaining my perspective on things.

I agree that:

Jiang Cheng was a victim of child abuse

Jiang Cheng was brought up in a manner where he was constantly told Wei Wuxian should be lower than him

Wei Wuxian was her tool for projection of her own issues with her marriage

Pretty much every single character made the system go on and did nothing to change things

But I disagree, and can kinda prove wrong a lot of things here:

JGS & WRH aren't involved in WWX's downfall Firstly, I didn't want to make it seem like they were the reason WWX suffered. I brought them and the old gen up because they ALL uphold the hierarchy. We have a very direct example of JGS messing with JC and thereby WWX actually:

Exiled Rebel Translation; Chapter 73

JGS called on this meeting for two big reasons; his hatred for WWX and to turn JC against him. At this point in time, JC doesn't know WWX's motivations because WWX hasn't been communicating with him(this SPECIFICALLY, this lack of communication, is what led to 99% of their interpersonal issues). JC also has the least amount of power during the flashbacks, and JGS is not afraid to lord that power over him. This transition neatly into the next point-

2. Jiang Cheng benefited from being a sect leader/ young master

JC during the flashbacks didn't do anything, not because he was adhering to the system, but because he genuinely had no choice. If Gusu Lan or Lanling Jin decided they were going to host the Wen remnants, no one really could've done anything but YMJ, as the main sect, was just JC & JYL as opposed to the remaining sects which had most of their members and infrastructure. Yes he had the privilege of "sect leader" and the name but it is utterly useless when even WWX himself was comparing the Lanling Jin's power-hoarding to be similar to the Wens.

JC's power was meager. More than WWX, sure, but nearly enough. The power gap here is genuinely vast considering that YMJ was annihilated. WWX acknowledged this, hence the mutually agreed defection.

3. JC did not kick WWX out, this was a mutual decision initiated by WWX

And there just is no point in the story when JC is showing off how rich he is on his own, verbally. He is wealthy after the time-skip, he can spoil Jin Ling, but there have been zero instances of him being specifically proud of his wealth? Like that's never a point that comes up. It happens with JGS and the Wen but that's about it. YMJ and Qinghe Nie are never shown to put too much emphasis on wealth.

4. Jiang Yanli sacrificed herself

She did not. She went into the battlefield to search for WWX. We never know why she did it, but her getting herself killed would've done nothing and she didn't intend to die that day.

We see that it was an accident, and the text itself says she wouldn't be able to say something like "I forgive you" or "it's okay" because it is false.

JC has every right to be mad at WWX for JYL's death because, he, unlike the reader, doesn't know what happened. Even if WWX directed WN in self-defense, it doesn't change the fact that he fucked up and killed JC's brother-in-law and his sister. WWX himself never tries to justify it. Now, were there other causes like his mental state and being shot and and the chaos of the situations making him lose control? Yes.

Does JC know this? No. Because all he knows is that WWX wants nothing to do with him, he's sided with the Wen, they've already staged a public falling-out so he can't just waltz in and ask, and the remaining cultivator sects are the ones informing him. Rgardless of this, he still maintains the right to blame WWX for it because WWX cannot dictate how anyone reacts to what are ultimately his actions. JC was under the impression that WWX was in full-control both during JZX and JYL's deaths.

Would WWX saying to, say, JYL, "I didn't meant it, I was just trying to protect myself" really make her grieve her husband less or completely absolve WWX in her eyes of any blame? Not really?

JC told him to stop the WN revival thing- WN killed JZX. Even WQ and WWX admit that there's just no excuse on this one, regardless of WWX's turmoil.

Jiang Yanli wanted to see WWX and wanted him to stop but she herself couldn't deny that WWX was to blame for her husband's death. Again this wasn't a sacrifice, no one in canon sees it as such.

Here comes my interpretation of the text now:

Comparing cultivation sects to billionaires is just, wrong tbh. I think you're taking a very western approach to all of this. Cultivation sects are in fact, rich, but that is not the only thing giving them power. Legacy and centuries of history, their cultivation techniques, and their individual customs and cultures upheld for years is what gives them this power.

The best comparison here would be like.....monarchy? Royal family? Even then it isn't particularly correct because each sect is community of its own through having members with familial relations and trained outer disciples. Money doesn't define sects, though it is a matter of importance for people like JGS and WRH.

Dismantling the sect system would mean dismantling communities. It would mean a removal of culture(they all have their own sword techniques, individualistic rituals like forehead ribbons, clarity bells and sabres, they have their own value systems they live by, texts and craft, etc). That's why no character wants to get rid of this.

Yes the Gusu Lan are restrictive, the Qinghe Nie's sabres are destructive, etc etc but it is still a cultures. These artefacts mean something to each sect and is unfortunately tied to certain backward rules.

Jin Guangyao is the one character who tried to use his powers to make things better- he is the son of a sex worker, he knows what it is like to be underprivileged and during his time as chief cultivator did a lot of good). The watchtowers are the biggest example. Here is a good example of how these sects can repurpose their wealth to better the community.

It is a possible route, one which hopefully the newer gen will pick up as time goes on. It does suck no one else tried it but calling the sects and their leaders wealth hoarders or comparing them to billionaires strips this situation of its nuance. Especially with JC because it's only been a decade since his entire community was annihilated and so his priority would be reviving the culture of YMJ.

It's a valid critique, the sects are classisst and should do better but it's a complicated issue where to better things, potential parts of culture needs to be given up, and they have to work to find compromises and places of adjustment. It's a long process.

I'd also like to say......yeah WWX is technically lower than JC since he isn't a sect heir but he is the son of two highly famous cultivators and the first disciple of a Great Five(now Four) Sect? He is lower on the totem pole than JC, but technically so are a bunch of other people(LWJ is because he isn't a sect heir). But that is a bit disingenuous, WWX is lower. But JC has never held his background against him.

We can argue about this till the cows come home. In fact, every JC stan vs WWX stan war is fueled by this. I can bring up text, you can bring up text, then we can get lost in the meaning of the words and subtext and yada yada and I don't want to do that.

All I'll say, for my interpretation of their relationship, is that JC was fine with dying for WWX when he distracted the Wens, he begged and pleaded with his mom to spare WWX multiple times, he's made excuses for him and gone along with a lot of his plans from harmless pranks to staging a fallout, and the opening of the novel noted that JC was very sentimental about WWX to a point people sneered at JC for having that affection for him and not taking any action sooner.

Additionally WWX isn't like championing the poor or anything???? That has never, ever been his thing??? The Wen remnants are all upper class, and if the attack hadn't happened, would've been pretty high up on the hierarchy. This was WQ and WN's faction- aka the cousins, nephews, nieces, uncles, aunts of the main Wen family. They aren't poor foot soldiers- technically none of them would be because everyone in a sect is somewhat privileged merely by being in a sect and by being a cultivator.

He was fighting for them because it was unfair that a group of people who did nothing against the four sects are suffering for the contemporaries' crimes. It wasn't like, specifically a class thing, it was moreso on the idea of what is "right" and what is "wrong", morality, and there were lots of other factors discussed aside from money, like the possession of cultivation artifacts, infidelity, sect mottos, etc. I won't deny money, social position and family name played a huge part but it wasn't exactly that WWX was...fighting against like he never expressed he wanted to dismantle anything.

No one really does. MDZS isn't a story about class struggle or a commentary on dismantling that structure. WWX didn't set out on his work for that, it was a lesson he learned along the way and it's more of WWX's personal journey to recovery and learning to rely on others while examining the power of rumors and false information.

You can certainly see it as a commentary on class, especially in JGY but it's not.....really any character's motive. Not even WWX. When he says he'll walk the crooked path alone, he's not declaring the end of...fuedalism(? idk i doubt that's the right word for the sect system but it conveys the basic gist of it). He's doing it because he's morally correct in defending innocent people. Not impoverished or infleunced by a lack of money, but innocent.

I'd argue MDZS is actually more about casteism but eh po-tay-toe- po-tah-toe.

Anyways, I think wrt how we view the influence of the system on characters, we have a fundamental disagreement which I'm fine with having because I can't dictate how you view the novel. This is just my take. It's not to change your mind or anything, I just like yapping and seeing how things contrast.

Anyways~~ bye~~ this was fun

It pains me to re-read MDZS because every other line out of Jiang Cheng's mouth about Wei Wuxian is a prophecy that comes tru. "playing hero will get you killed wwx" "your reliance on your strength will doom you" "you can't take the world on alone, it'll always end bad"/ He does it for other characters too and like this man has been forseeing 20 years ahead since day one and absolutely no one believes him.

Wei Wuxian: Silly Jiang Cheng! Of course I won't die!

Wei Wuxian, 3 days later, the spirits tearing into him: I-I can't let him know he got that one right

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baya-ni · 4 years ago

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The Queer Appeal of Sk8

Recently @mulberrymelancholy reblogged a post of mine with a truly galaxy brain take about how Sk8 “is a show made for queer fans” and generally how sports anime often depicts love and relationships in a way that’s more accessible and relatable to ace/arospec people than other mainstream media does.

Just, *chef’s kiss* fucking brilliant. I urge you to read their post here (note I’m referring to the reblog not the actual post).

And basically, it got me thinking about this concept of Sk8 as a Queer Show, and the kinds of stories and dynamics that tend to attract queer audiences in droves, regardless of whether its queerness is made explicit or hell, whether that queerness was intended.

And that’s what I’ve been pondering: What are the cues, markers, or coding, in Sk8 that set off the community’s collective gaydar?

I obviously can’t speak for the community. So here’s what aspects of the show intrigued me and what, for me, marks Sk8 as a Queer Show beyond the subtextual queer romances: a punk/alternative aesthetic, Found Family, Shadow as a drag persona, and The Hands.

1.) The Punk Aesthetic

All three of the above screenshots are taken from Ep 1, and every single one of them depicts background characters. They’re nameless and ultimately unimportant characters, yet each of them designed so distinctly and so unique from one another, one could mistake each of them for the main character(s) of another story.

Of what little I know about Punk subculture, I do know this: that the ethos of Punk is heavily built around a celebration of individuality and non-conformity. Sk8 seems to have incorporated this ethos into the very fabric its worldbuilding, and the aesthetics and culture upon which it takes inspiration appeals specifically to a queer audience.

I don’t really need to explain why Punk has such deep ties with the queer community. For decades, queer people have found community and acceptance within punk spaces, and punk ideology is something that I think is just ingrained in the queer consciousness as both lived experience and a survival tactic.

Therefore, a show that adopts punk aesthetics is, by association, already paying homage to Queer culture, intentional or not.

Queer fans notice this- like recognizes like.

2.) Found Family

This also needs little explanation.

Too often, queer individuals cannot rely on their “born into” families for support and acceptance. Too often, we are abused, neglected, and abandoned by those who we were taught would “always be there for us.”

And so, a universal experience for queer people has been redefining the meaning of Family, having to build our families from scratch, finding brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers in people with whom we have no blood relation, and forming communities tied together by shared lived experience rather than shared genetics.

And this idea of Found Family is also built into Sk8′s narrative.

Like, for example, the way that Reki promises MIYA that he and Langa will “never disappear from [his] sight,” filling the void that MIYA felt after his friends abandoned him.

And in the way that JOE becomes a paternal figure for Reki, teaching him ways to improve in skateboarding, and ensuring that Reki doesn’t self isolate when he’s feeling insecure.

And in the whole Ep 6 business with Hiromi acting as babysitter to the Gang.

Hell, even ADAM (derogatory) is associated with this trope. Abused as a child, he finds solace in an underground skateboarding community and culture he helped create- his own found family (or some powertrippy version of it anyway).

Again, queer fans see themselves depicted in the show, but this time in the way that the show gives importance to Found Family relationships between its characters.

3.) Shadow and Drag

This is one that’s more of an association that I personally made. But I was intrigued by the way that Hiromi adopts his SHADOW persona. He wears SHADOW like a mask, and adopts a personality seemingly so opposite to his day-to-day behavior.

Further, the theatricality and general “gender fuckery” of his SHADOW persona, to me, just seemed so similar to a the characteristics of a drag persona (I don’t know a whole lot about drag but enough that I’m drawing superficial similarities).

There’s also this aspect of a ��double life” that he, and actually all the other adult characters of the show, have to adopt, which is a way of living that I’m sure a lot of queer viewers see themselves reflected in.

4.) The Hands

Ohhhh the Hands.

One of the things I noticed very early on is the way the show constantly draws our attention to Reki’s hands, which I thought was a little strange for an anime about skating. After all, skating doesn’t really involve the hands, or at least the show doesn’t really draw attention to hands within the context of skating.

I count 3 times so far between Eps 1-9 in which hands are the focus of the frame.

First, when Reki teaches Langa how to fist pump after Langa lands his first ollie, second, when Reki and Langa make their Promise, and finally, when Langa saves Reki from falling off his board.

And you know what they say, twice is a coincidence but thrice is a motif (no one else actually says this I think I’m the only one who says this lol).

I’m not really certain why hands seem to be such a shared fixation among queer people (at least among those I interact with). All I know is that gay people are just fucking obsessed with them.

I have a Theory as to why, and at this point I’d love for other people to chime in and “compare notes” if you will, but I think it basically has to do with repression. And in the same way that queer people have had to redefine the meaning of family, we’ve also had to redefine intimacy.

Being overtly physically affectionate with someone of the same sex, even if they’re your significant other, or often specifically BECAUSE they’re your significant other, can still be dangerous, even now despite the “progression” of society. Queer people know this, this vigilant surveillance of our environment and ourselves, always asking ourselves, “Am I safe enough to be myself?”

Already, Western culture is pretty touch-averse. That is, it’s considered taboo to touch someone unless they’re a family member or a romantic partner. And to touch a person of the same sex in any way that could be misconstrued as romantic (which is most things tbh) is a big no no.

There’s just A Lot to unpack there.

But basically I think that queer people, by necessity, have had to learn to romanticize mundane or unconventional ways of being physically intimate so that we can continue to be romantic with one another without “being caught” so to speak.

Kissing and hugging is too obvious. But a handshake that lingers for just a second too long is much more likely to go unnoticed, braiding someone’s hair can easily be explained away as just lending a helping hand, touching palms to “compare hand sizes” is just good fun.

But for queer people, these brief and seemingly insignificant touches hold greater meaning, because it’s all we are allowed, and all we allow ourselves, to exchange with others.

God, I’ve gone off and rambled again. What’s my point? Basically that the way the show draws attention to Reki’s hands, and specifically how they’re so often framed with Langa’s hands, is one of the major reasons why I clocked Sk8 as a Queer. It’s just something that resonated with me and my own experience of queerness, and I know that I’m not the only one who noticed either.

So in conclusion, uhhhh yeah Sk8 the Infinity is just a super gay show, and it’s not even because of the homo-romantic subtext (that at this point is really just Text).

Because what’s important to understand is that Queerness isn’t just about same-sex romance.

Queer Love isn’t just shared between wives/girlfriends, husbands/boyfriends, and all their in-betweens. Queer Love can be two best friends who come out together, queer siblings who rely and support one another, a gay teacher who helps guide one of their questioning students, a queer community pitching in to help a struggling member.

And that all ties with another important thing to consider, that what we refer to as the “queer experience” or “queer culture” isn’t universal. In fact, it wrongly lumps together the unique experiences and struggles of queer BIPOC all under one umbrella that’s primary White and middle class.

So I think what drives a lot of my frustration about labeling a show like Sk8 as Queerbait is this very issue of considering queerness and queer representation within such narrow standards, and mandating that a show must pass a certain threshold of explicit queerness to be considered good representation.

I get that someone might only feel represented by an indisputable canonization of a same-sex couple. That’s fine. But labeling Sk8 as Queerbait for that reason alone ignores the vast array of other queer experiences.

The aspects of Sk8 that resonate most deeply with my own experiences of queerness is in the way that Reki and Langa share intimacy through skating (intricate rituals heyo). For me, them officially getting together ultimately doesn’t matter- I’ll consider Sk8 a Queer show regardless.

Similarly, @mulberrymelancholy finds ace/arospec representation in that very absence of an on-screen kiss. A bisexual man might find representation in Reki, not because he enters a canon relationship, but in the depiction of Reki’s coming of age, growing up and navigating adolescent relationships. A non-binary person might feel represented through CHERRY’s androgyny.

That’s the thing, I don’t know how this show will resonate with other members of the queer community, and it’d be wrong to make a judgement on Sk8′s queer representation based on my experiences alone.

That being said, Straight people definitely don’t get to judge Sk8 as Queerbait. Y’all can watch and enjoy the show, we WANT you to enjoy these kinds of shows, and we want you to share these shows and contribute to the normalization and celebration of these kinds of narratives.

But understand that you don’t have a right to tell us whether or not Sk8 has good or bad queer representation.

And even members of the queer community are on thin ice. Your experience of queerness is not universal. Listen to the other members of your community, and respect that what you might find lacking in this show may be the exact representation that someone else needs.

#and scene #i was up till 4am writing this instead of doing my hw #bc i hav Opinions dammit #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 meta #sk8 theory #queerbait

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juunnies · 4 years ago

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flower shop

PAIRING ▸ kang taehyun x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ strangers to friends to lovers, college au, flower shop au, fluff, angst

WARNINGS ▸ mild profanity, death

SUMMARY ▸ kang taehyun never loved flowers this much until he met you. a flower shop was where you both met, but it was where you would always be.

PLAYLIST ▸ eternally by txt • where’s my love by syml

WORD COUNT ▸ 6626 words

COME TO THINK OF IT, EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU REMINDED HIM OF FLOWERS.

From the delicate features of your face; the sweet tone you used when you called out his name; your hands that felt so soft, almost like a petal; and the first day the both of you met in that little flower shop—Taehyun was constantly reminded of you whenever he passed by a flower. It wasn't pleasant in the slightest bit. In fact, he wanted to tear it all down. Your presence in his head were dark, filmy sheets that he couldn't bring himself to pull down.

Everything felt so calm; the soft sunlight that streamed through the kitchen window, the gentle hum from the open flame as Beomgyu, his roommate, boiled tea for them, and the plush blanket that Taehyun threw over himself as he curled up on the couch. If only Beomgyu would hurry up with the tea, then Taehyun wouldn't have to be left to brood alone.

His own thoughts were poison at this point—thinking about the shop, thinking about you, thinking about flowers. Loneliness wasn't good for Taehyun, nor was silence. He fought that loneliness like a storm yet all he needed was a distraction from his crushing thoughts.

"Tea's ready," Beomgyu called out groggily, his voice thick with sleep.

Taehyun wasn't the least bit surprised. He could hear him and Soobin playing video games all through the night. He would've yelled at them to keep quiet, but rather, the louder volume came from the silence of his own pounding memories.

Taehyun took the cup that Beomgyu handed him and let the warm steam rise up to his face. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, taking it all in.

"Long night, Gyu?" he asked, and the sarcasm was nearly undetectable if Taehyun hadn't raised a single brow at his roommate.

"Oh man." Beomgyu rubbed the back of his neck and took a seat next to him on the couch. "Were we that loud? I mean I was trying to calm Soobin down the best I could, but it was all over after he beat the high score."

"It's fine." Taehyun waved the matter off casually with his hand. "It wasn't your fault that I couldn't sleep."

Beomgyu frowned, peering at his friend through warm eyes that were clouded with concern. "Taehyun… you know you can talk to me about it, right? You keep it all pent up and act all strong about it, but I know you're crying into your pillow at night, and I know you clench your fist whenever we walk by that flower shop near the campus." Beomgyu exhaled shakily, and Taehyun could tell that he, too, was keeping all this pent up. "You're my best friend, and seeing you like this—well, it hurts."

Taehyun understood all too well. He saw it when he looked at himself in the mirror. The dark bags under his eyes were a dead giveaway, but what scared him was how empty he looked. Some days he couldn't even recognize the person he was looking at.

Smiles became painful and laughs were a sound he didn't feel like he was capable of making anymore. Taehyun tried not to look at his reflection; he hated it. When he did, though, the storm would start with a slight quiver in his lower lip. His hands would start to shake and then sobs would rack his body.

Taehyun looked at Beomgyu in the eye and felt immense guilt. He and Soobin had been worrying about him and Taehyun did nothing to ease their troubles. He didn't speak much to Hyuka these days as he was in a different dorm, but Beomgyu and Soobin would often keep him updated about Taehyun’s condition. Taehyun did miss the days when they'd all hang out, but he felt incapable of experiencing that joy. All he could feel was creeping dread that darkened each waking hour, that made him feel drained each time he had to drag himself out of bed.

"Gyu, I appreciate it. I really do," Taehyun replied, sipping the black tea. He loved the tea that Beomgyu would always make for him; the creamy texture and sweet buttery overlay always calmed him down. "I just really don't know how to move on."

It had been so long that Taehyun didn’t know if he was ever going to move on.

Taehyun could see in his best friend’s eyes that Beomgyu held onto every single word he uttered. "I know, Tae," he told him, "but you don't have to keep it all in. Let it all out to me, to your friends. You can lean on us."

“I just don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” Beomgyu said firmly, a little louder. “If you were a burden, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I wouldn’t be waking up every morning to make you your favorite tea. I wouldn’t be begging you to let me support you.”

A spark of hope flickered in Taehyun’s eyes. He stared back down at his tea and shut his eyes, letting the steam lick the curve of his cheeks and travel up to his eyelids.

"I'll talk," he decided.

Beomgyu’s face lit up and he set his tea down on the table. He jolted up, fumbling with his pant pockets to search for his phone. "I'll call the others to come here tonight as soon as they can," he said with a grin and grabbed his bag. "Are you coming to class today?"

"I think I'll just skip today."

"Again?" Beomgyu asked, his eyebrows knitting into a frown. "Can you keep up with the coursework like this?"

Taehyun nodded, leaning back against the couch. "Of course. I've been getting all my assignments in, and Hyuka texts me what I missed in the lectures."

Saying Hyuka’s name left a bitter taste in Taehyun’s mouth; he regretted not communicating properly with all of his friends, but it stung more as Hyuka was the one who would record lectures for him, take extra notes, and keep him up to date about quizzes and exams.

All Taehyun did in return was push him away.

"I gotta get to class but I'll see you in the evening, Taehyun." Beomgyu waved goodbye with a soft smile and Taehyun returned it with his own wave just before his best friend walked out the door.

Taehyun got up with a deep sigh and made his way to the kitchen to put his cup in the sink. He set them on top of a few plates that were piled up amongst other dishes and rinsed them with water.

A small flower pot sat on the windowsill. There was a sprouting bud that looked nearly about to bloom. Taehyun frowned and gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, yet he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the plant. The sigh that escaped his lips held a plethora of emotions that he couldn't seem to tell if it was bittersweet or not.

Everything led him back to you.

The sunshine seemed to be extra resplendent on the day of Taehyun’s fateful encounter with you. He was in a flower shop, picking up some flowers that Soobin needed for his visit to his mom's house that evening (he was busy with an exam and couldn't make it, so he sent Taehyun instead). It was then when he saw you through a bouquet of lilies, the sunlight bouncing off of your sleek and shiny hair. He had to tear his gaze away from you, but he was too late.

You saw him.

He expected you to be flustered or shocked, but, instead, a wide smile crossed your face. There was a mysterious glint in your eyes and instantly, Taehyun was intrigued. Should he talk to you? Taehyun wasn't very experienced when it came to flirting. Rather, he didn’t even need to do it most of the time; he just let his eyes do all the work, but all of a sudden, he felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe.

"Looking for something?" the shopkeeper asked him and Taehyun nearly tripped over his feet trying to turn around to look at the man.

He didn’t look much older than Taehyun but carried himself with more confidence and grace. He was attractive in a bookish sort of way, wearing a thick cardigan and had glasses pushed up onto his head. His selling point, however, were his full lips, and he seemed to know exactly how to draw attention to them, whether it was intentional or not. Although he wasn’t smiling with those lips, his eyes showed it quite radiantly.

"I—no, I just—uh..." Taehyun stammered and rested his arm on the counter cooly, but nearly tipped over a flower vase while doing so. He managed to catch it just in time and set it back quickly, letting out a shaky breath. "Sorry," he mumbled and heard a giggle from behind. It was the pretty girl and oh was he embarrassed.

"It's alright, dude," the shopkeeper replied, chuckled, and sharply glared at the pretty girl. "Y/N, don't laugh at customers."

So that was your name.

"Sorry, Yeonjun!" you apologized in a cheery voice. Everything about you was so eccentric that Taehyun wondered how he was keeping up with your energy. "He's just so adorable." You laughed a little while a red tint started creeping up his neck.

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, shaking his head at your antics. “Sorry about my little sister,” he apologized to Taehyun.

He saw the resemblance between you and Yeonjun. They both had a warm personality and an incandescent smile that lit up the store. Rather than the flowers setting the ambiance, it was them. But you were so eccentric and so full of energy that Taehyun couldn’t even fathom matching up to. He was still reeling over the fact that you had called him adorable right in front of your brother.

Taehyun’s words were failing him as he helplessly stared at you, opening his mouth once and then closing it. He felt pathetic but turned back to Yeonjun instead. "I'm here to pick up Choi Soobin’s order," he said, showing him the receipt.

"Right… ah, yes, I remember," Yeonjun recollected. He looked at it and then reached under the counter, placing a vase full of roses in front of Taehyun. And another. And another. And another.

Why on Earth did Soobin need four vases? Taehyun thought in exasperation and mentally noted that this would be the last time he was going to be doing a favor for Soobin.

"Do you live close by?" Yeonjun asked, much like a protective guardian, noticing how distressed Taehyun looked as he stared at the flower vases.

"Yeah, I go to the college here so I live in the dorms right down the street," Taehyun replied, sandwiching one of the vases between his arm and side in preparation to hold all four.

"Oh, Y/N, why don't you help him carry a few of those," Yeonjun insisted and his little sister came rushing right over, scooping up two of the vases.

Holding the two vases in your arms, you looked up at Taehyun curiously. The sunlight caught on the tips of your lashes and reflected yellow flickers in your eyes. Taehyun was transfixed, and a bit horrified that he was so mesmerized. You laughed a little—a harmonious sound that was stuck in his head now.

"How long are you gonna keep staring?"

"Oh, sorry," Taehyun muttered quickly, embarrassed, and scooped up the remaining vase. "Erm, thank you very much for your help." He nodded toward you and Yeonjun, who smiled in response.

"Thank me after I've helped you," you replied with a grin, gesturing for him to lead the way.

"Oh, right—yes, okay," Taehyun rambled in a quiet, nearly inaudible voice before he headed out the door with you following right after him.

He led you down the sidewalk, moving to make sure you weren’t on the side of the road. You seemed to pick up on Taehyun’s pathetic attempt at being a gentleman and raised your brows at him, impressed. Taehyun, of course, was simply trying not to royally screw up one way or another in front of you. He glanced at you and couldn't stop thinking about how he wanted to get to know you better and maybe change that morbidly awkward first impression he gave off.

"I didn't catch your name." You interrupted his thoughts with a glowing smile that made him almost freeze in his tracks. Taehyun had to remind himself to keep walking—one foot after the other. "I heard a Choi Soobin somewhere, but I'm guessing that's not your name."

He smiled a little, realizing how dangerous and how contagious that smile of yours was. "It's Taehyun. Kang Taehyun."

"I'm Y/N," you greeted in a sing-songy voice that reeled Taehyun in.

You had some distinct charm that drew people in and made it so easy to talk to you, but Taehyun was just a touch shy all of a sudden. He wasn’t like this. It was all so new to him.

"You go to the university here?" he asked you.

"I do, and I'm assuming you’re also a student considering you live in the dorms."

“Yeah.” Taehyun scoffed a little. “My scholarship only covers my tuition, not housing, so I’m rooming in a triple.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Why don’t you live in the dorms?” he asked, and quickly added, “Oh, you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”

“No, you’re good,” you replied, the smile on your lips daring to fall apart, but you kept your composure well. "I don't have much money, so all the money I get for college is from scholarships and the funds from the flower shop. We make it work, though!”

Something about how innocent your tone was horrified Taehyun. He knew that some students struggled financially, but he couldn't imagine how you could pay off your college funds from that small flower shop. It was the hope in your tone that crushed him, though. Your positivity was overwhelming to the point that Taehyun wasn’t sure if he felt defeated or inspired.

"I'm sorr—"

"No, don't say it." You shook her head and silenced Taehyun with a raise of your slender finger. "I don't like pity, and I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me," you finished stubbornly.

Taehyun stayed quiet for the rest of the walk back to the dorms.

Taehyun stayed awake throughout that night, replaying your words in his head. He didn't understand it, but perhaps he wasn't supposed to. He didn't have financial struggles, so what could he possibly understand? All he knew was that he wanted to help you, and so he did.

Every day, Taehyun headed to the flower shop right after his lectures were over and he'd buy some flowers, avoiding Yeonjun’s nagging questions about why on Earth he was buying so many flowers. He decided to routinely place the flowers at random people's doors. Of course, it took a lot of setting his pride aside, but Taehyun wanted to do something good.

Maybe it would brighten someone's day, he thought.

He began working at the flower shop. He loved it there. He got to see you tend to the flowers and was amazed by how delicately you handled them. He never imagined he'd become so close to you and Yeonjun, and it satisfied him; he wanted every day to be like this. He specifically requested for Yeonjun not to pay him and slipped all of his tip money into your apron.

“Yeonjun,” Taehyun called one day when he was sweeping the floor behind the counter. “You’re letting me take the holiday off to go home over break so why aren’t you closing shop?”

Yeonjun smiled, and Taehyun couldn’t help but think about how similar you were to your big brother. “The flower shop is my home.”

“What about your parents?”

“Our mom died giving birth to Y/N,” Yeonjun explained honestly. “Our dad ran off after that and left us with our grandparents. I guess we could go spend the break with our grandparents but they’re not so big on the holiday.”

While Yeonjun sunk deep in thought, Taehyun pondered over his words. If you ever struggled with your past, you certainly never showed it. While it was admirable, it worried Taehyun. Yeonjun, however, had said in the past that optimism was simply wired in you.

Taehyun and you made hanging out a daily thing. After leaving flowers at random houses, Taehyun would go back to the flower shop and pick you up to go to a coffee shop. You would talk for hours, laugh, and go on a walk afterward. It was fun, but Taehyun felt like something was always missing.

When they'd drink coffee, he'd want to gaze into your eyes; when they'd talk, he'd want to discuss a future that they could possibly have together; when they'd walk, his hand itched to entwine with yours; when you would laugh, he wanted the world to stop just so he could listen to the melodious sound that resonated.

It was getting bad because Taehyun’s heart would clench when he imagined spending his days without you.

Months brought you both closer. Before, Taehyun wanted to know everything about you in an instant. He wanted an arsenal of knowledge just on you, but then he realized the value of learning more and more about someone slowly over time. He savored your deep conversations over the phone and late-night texts because he was vulnerable at night and allowed himself to open up to you. So, it wasn’t long before the both of you became inseparable.

But Taehyun didn't realize that his feelings for you were more than just a close bond. A late night conversation with Hyuka confirmed that he had feelings that surpassed the realm of friendship. Sure, he knew he liked you. A lot. But his true feelings for you ran deeper than that, deeper than a friendship or a silly crush.

"You care about her a lot, don't you?" Hyuka asked him one night while they were both sitting on the couch, watching some re-run episode of a show Taehyun forgot the title of.

"Hm? What's this?" Soobin asked, walking into the room with a soda can in his hands. "Is Taehyun finally admitting he likes Y/N?"

"Of course I like her," Taehyun replied, rubbing his temple with two fingers. His head felt like it was spinning in turmoil. He didn't understand why his feelings were so strong, and he was a little scared to find out. "But this isn't just like and admire. This is more than that, but I just can't explain it."

"You love her," Hyuka said. "Isn't that right?"

Love.

The word was so precious, so fragile, that Taehyun could hardly bring himself to utter the word. Yes, it was the brilliant smile you gave him, the twinkle in your eyes, the softness of your hands, the hardworking side of you, the stubborn side of you, and the caring side of you—he loved it all. Taehyun wanted it all. He wanted to grow old with you and keep you safely at his side. He wanted to be someone that you could confide in and someone who could help you not suffer anymore.

"I love Y/N," Taehyun whispered, and then repeated it with a newfound confidence, "I love her."

Hyuka and Soobin observed their best friend in silence, a small smirk crossing their lips. They found it adorable that a girl managed to capture the heart of Kang Taehyun. A happy sigh escaped Hyuka’s lips as Taehyun got up to go to his bedroom and reflect on his revelation.

"Look at him go." Soobin sighed wistfully, like a proud parent.

The night before Taehyun decided to confess, he could hardly stay awake. He could only imagine every single scenario that could play out following his confession. He was certain he wouldn't be able to create some over-the-top proclamation of love that would make you swoon, but he was certain he would get his feelings out to you.

The rest was up to you.

He thought of your angelic smile. How could someone even look so heavenly? Whenever he saw you wearing that cream-colored sweater while working at the shop, Taehyun just wanted to reach out and hold you in his arms.

Taehyun was hardly ready the moment he was about to confess to you. He had brought you to a bridge overlooking a lake and was clutching the metal railing so tight that the paint was starting to flake off. He wished that the ground underneath him would disappear so that he could fall into some figurative void, but he knew that he had to do this. It was now or never for Kang Taehyun.

"Yes," you said suddenly and Taehyun’s eyes widened.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated this a few times while he tried to grasp the situation. He was in disbelief—did he confess already or not? Before Taehyun was about to ask something stupid, he realized you were on the phone with Yeonjun, letting him know when you would be home. His cheeks flushed and he looked down at the lake to hide the deep blush across his cheeks.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" you asked, turning around to look at him with a smile.

He swallowed hard and shoved his shaking hands in his pockets. Kang Taehyun didn’t fear many things in life, but the weight of what he was about to do was getting heavier and heavier. It was just him and her, and no one else.

"Y/N," he began a little shakily, but regained his courage quickly, "I think I've been captured by you ever since the moment I met you. But lately, my feelings have been growing stronger. I didn't really understand it at first but whenever I look at you—just look at you—I feel so immensely happy."

"Taehyun—" you began softly.

Taehyun cut you off. He needed to finish. He needed to let out the feelings he had been suppressing. The feelings that made his heart ache and his stomach flutter.

"I can't—I can't think when you're around. Everything escapes me, even the world, and it's just you. I—it feels like I can't speak. I can't breathe."

"Taehyun," you whispered, but it didn't sound like you wanted to stop him. You just wanted to call out his name, and oh, how he loved it when you said his name.

"I love you," Taehyun stated clearly, a slightly agonized expression on his face. "I've loved you for so long and I didn't—I couldn't tell you."

You looked like you were at a loss of words and Taehyun’s stomach dropped then and there. You simply stood there as if Taehyun’s words had pinned you in place. Did he screw up? Did he make you uncomfortable? He knew the confession would go one of two ways, but he was really hoping you weren't actually going to reject him.

While Taehyun used his words to get his feelings across, you used your actions. You threw yourself into his arms, catching his lips in a gentle kiss. Every thought, every sense of moral in Taehyun’s head exploded into flashes of white, and he had to fight back the dark curl of desire that twisted in him.

It was calm and gentle, yet a violent storm all at once. Taehyun didn't understand how a simple kiss could draw so many emotions from him and extract so much passion. He pulled away first in disbelief, his eyes drifting to your lips as he tried to catch his breath. An overwhelming burst of happiness filled him to the rim and he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your hair.

"I love you too," he swore he heard you whisper softly next to his ear.

And so, his relationship with you kicked off. You were both happy and content, and Yeonjun was surprisingly supportive of the new couple. In fact, he had coyly mentioned that he had seen it coming. Taehyun’s friends congratulated him during a night filled with drinks and laughs, and Taehyun discovered about the running bet they had on when you two would get together. There wasn’t anyone in his life that didn’t know he was dating you. After all, he walked hand-in-hand wherever he went with you.

He finally got to hold your soft, delicate hands.

"We should travel together," you said one night while you were star-gazing with your boyfriend.

Taehyun turned to look at you and saw the reflection of the constellations in your glittering eyes.

"Where would we go?" Taehyun asked, moving his hand up to stroke your hair gently.

You smiled and closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. "France? Amsterdam? Greece? It doesn’t matter."

Taehyun chuckled. "I don't mind what we do or where we go. I'm sure we'll have fun as long as we're together."

You and Taehyun gazed into each other's eyes. He saw a future with you in your sparkling eyes. He saw them getting married, moving in together, and having kids. He saw them growing old together and playing with their grandkids in their house.

"You're right." You grinned and then your smile faltered. "I have something I need to tell you."

Taehyun raised a brow. "Go ahead."

"Yeonjun told me about you working for free. The extra tip money I've been finding in my apron is from you then, right?" you asked and rolled over onto your side to look at him. "Why are you doing this, Tae?"

"I love you, Y/N," Taehyun murmured. "I don't need the money. I just want to help you out."

"I appreciate it, I really do. I'm going to get a job, Taehyun. After college. I'm going to make enough money to support us and Yeonjun."

Taehyun grinned and cupped your cheek in his hand, pressing a chaste kiss to it. That was what he loved about you. You always looked for the good in every situation and stayed positive even with the world weighing you down. You never gave up.

"I believe in you."

The two of you laid down on the picnic blanket that night and talked about worlds from their dreams and futures imagined and unimagined. You vowed to be a better parent than your own parents. Taehyun agreed that he'd always put family first. The two of them looked up into the starry night sky and imagined futures that they'd spend together.

It was the day of your one-year anniversary when Taehyun waited at the park, shivering because of the cold. The tip of his nose was red, his ears were practically frozen, and his toes were curled in his shoes. He was holding a bouquet of lilies and a surprise he bought for her. Taehyun wasn’t one to go big on anniversaries, but you were important to him.

You were supposed to be here any second now, and the only thing keeping Taehyun occupied and sane were the texts from his friends, cheering him on. He had an odd feeling that they were stalking him, but he shook it off. Even if they were, they would leave with disgust all over their faces the moment he leaned in to kiss you.

Taehyun couldn't stop smiling to himself. Lilies were perfect; it was like their flower. He was eager to see your reaction.

"Help!" someone cried. "Call 911—!"

Taehyun frowned. The strangled voice sounded close by. He rushed over quickly to see what all the commotion was about. He didn't want to leave the area he was waiting for you at, but he couldn't ignore something like this.

"Is everything okay? What's the matter?" Taehyun pushed past the crowd on the sidewalk to reach the center of the chaos.

He could hardly believe the sight in front of him. You were laying in the middle of the street, blood pooling around your limp body. Paramedics rushed toward you and, after checking your pulse, started performing CPR. It started from his toes, but Taehyun started to shake, slowly, and then violently.

"Y-Y/N?" he croaked out in a soft voice.

"I told her to stop," Taehyun overheard a bystander telling someone else, "but she didn't seem to hear me. She was in such a rush that she ran into the street without even realizing that the signal was still green."

“Did they call her family?” someone else asked.

As if on cue, Yeonjun ran out into the street, face settled in shock and body shaking with heavy sobs. A few policemen had to hold him back while he screamed, “That’s my sister!” in the most painful cry Taehyun had ever heard.

Yeonjun’s teary eyes met Taehyun’s and drifted to the bouquet of lilies he was holding. Frozen in place, Taehyun opened his mouth to say something, only for his voice to fail him as tears slipped down his cheeks and onto the delicate flower petals. Yeonjun surely blamed him for what happened to you. There was no way he would look at Taehyun the same way again.

He stayed there, some hopeful part of him begging for you to be okay, but Taehyun then heard the words that ended it all: "She's dead."

The world sounded waterlogged. Taehyun found himself kneeling on the ground, yet he didn't know how or when he got there. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he stared blankly at his girlfriend's lifeless body. The light faded from your sparkling eyes, making them dull and hollow. It was probably the most chilling, haunting sight he could have ever witnessed. Your soft hands were probably cold now. You would never laugh again. You were gone.

This wasn't how love stories were supposed to go. This wasn't how your love story was supposed to go. It was all a mess. It was unfinished. Broken. Torn. Gone. Forever.

He couldn't even tell you anymore that he loved you. That he wanted to be with you forever. The little black box in his pocket was useless now. Even if he screamed it from atop the highest building, you’d never hear him again.

Taehyun dragged himself over to your body and sucked in a harsh sob. "Y/N! Get up! Please, please, please… please get up!" He choked on his words and broke down in tears.

Yelling, even in your death. If you were alive, you would have laughed in hysteria and found it stupidly hilarious. You would wipe his tears and tell him that "it's okay" and that you love him, because you care far too much about him.

"Stay with me, Y/N, stay with me," Taehyun cried out, though he knew he wouldn't get any response. He felt a hand squeezing his shoulder but ignored it. "You—you said we were going to have a future together." His voice cracked and the tears started to blur his vision. "I brought… I brought you lilies.”

Taehyun dug the heels of his palms against his eyes and sucked in a ragged breath. "Shit, shit, shit, shit—" he hissed, finally screaming out in pain and agony like a wounded dog.

Taehyun felt himself being lifted to his feet and looked to see Soobin and Beomgyu hoisting his arms over their shoulders and dragging him out of the scene. Hyuka walked beside them to the dorms, not meeting Taehyun’s eyes as they felt a sharp stab with each sob that came from him.

"No, no, no…" Taehyun mumbled. "Gyu… Hyuka, please... I need to check on Y/N. I need to see her, I need to—please…" he whimpered. "I need to see her. Please? Soobin?"

They were too afraid to tell him the truth. Deep down, Taehyun knew, but he couldn't bring himself to accept it. A disgusting feeling of regret harrowed him and made him feel physically ill. He doubled over the moment Beomgyu and Soobin set him down in his dorm room. Hyuka caught him and helped him onto the couch.

I should have picked her up. I should have given her more time to get ready. I should have looked out for her. I should have paid attention. I should have been there. I should have protected her.

Each phrase he repeated in his head made him cry even more. Regret bubbled up in Taehyun and held him in a vice. It felt worse than heartbreak, like losing your other half. Taehyun had always felt a tightness in his chest around you, but now that tightness physically hurt him. It wasn’t dreamy and giddy like before, it was mournful and upsetting.

"Breathe," Hyuka said slowly, "long and deep."

Taehyun took a ragged breath and tried to calm down. He felt hollow, incomplete, missing. His vision blanked out with an array of black spots and a pounding rush of blood to his head. Slowly, the realization that you had just died in front of him had hit him again, and he started to cry again. It was less violent this time and more painful. He cried in mourning for her future that had just slipped away—their future.

"Taehyun, talk to us." Hyuka rubbed his back.

Taehyun swatted his hand away coldly and got up, backing away from them. "Don't—don't…" His voice cracked again and he hurried away, getting in his bed and pulling the blankets over his head, yet, he couldn't find any warmth in that either.

You were gone and took a part of him with you.

He loved your smile. Your radiant, glowing smile that lit up the room. He loved those sparkling eyes full of hope and joy. Months had passed, but Taehyun still couldn't bring himself to get over you, and he didn't think he ever would. You would forever live in his heart, never fading, forever young.

Taehyun only went outside the dorm when it was to visit your grave. On the day of your funeral, he was allowed to keep lilies on your casket, so they were lowered down into the ground with you. He continued to bring lilies for you whenever he'd visit your grave.

Taehyun walked along the street and tried to force the bittersweet memories of your walks in the city out of his head. He headed up the hill to the graveyard and stood in front of your grave. It became routine for him to replace the withering lilies with fresh ones to honor your memory.

"Y/N, I love you so, so much," he whispered, "but I can't keep hurting the ones I love like this. I need to move on but Y/N," his voice broke and he furiously wiped at the tear that dared to spill, "how do I do that?"

The silence didn't answer Taehyun’s question but gave him time to answer it for himself. You wouldn't want him crying for the rest of his life over you. You would want him to find a reason to be happy and live the rest of his life. He could at least do that for you so that you could smile brightly down on him from the Heavens.

Taehyun headed down the hill and eyed the flower shop at the corner of the street. He hesitated, but he knew he couldn't avoid Yeonjun forever. He walked toward the shop and opened the doors. Yeonjun still had that lost look in his eyes, but he seemed to be doing a lot better. The last time Taehyun had seen him was over half a year ago, and he looked rattled and hollow back then. The light seemed to be returning to Yeonjun now.

"Taehyun?" he called, shock clear in his voice as he moved away from the counter and toward him.

"Yeonjun, I’m… I’m sorry," Taehyun choked out and rubbed his eyes, a quiet whimper escaping his lips at the end.

“Are you still blaming yourself?” Yeonjun’s voice was low now. “Y/N’s death is still hard for me, but she’d want us to be happy.”

Taehyun frowned. “She just meant so much to me.”

“I know.” Yeonjun’s voice was firm. “You lost your girlfriend, but I lost my little sister, Taehyun.”

Taehyun was silent. He felt his heart seize at Yeonjun’s words. Their parents were out of the picture to begin with, but you and Yeonjun always had each other. Now, with you gone, Yeonjun had to let go of the future he was building with you.

“I’m sorry.”

Yeonjun softened at his words. “Healing isn’t linear, Taehyun,” he reassured. “You can take as long as you need to grieve, but you have people who care about you, okay? Lean onto them. They want to help, and I think you’ll be a lot happier if you accept it.”

Taehyun nodded, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. He knew more than anyone else that he had been pushing away his best friend’s attempts to comfort him for far too long.

Yeonjun walked back to the counter and then came back with a small box in his hand. "Y/N must have loved you a lot," he said and opened the box, displaying a silver ring, "she saved up all her tip money to propose to you."

Taehyun stared at the ring in disbelief and his eyes stung as Yeonjun slipped your ring onto his finger. Suppressing a choked sob, he pulled out his own box from his pocket and showed Yeonjun the ring he had gotten for you.

"It looks like we both had the same intentions."

Taehyun laughed a little through the blinding tears and let Yeonjun pull him into a hug. They stood there, embracing each other because they only had the other in remembrance of you. Yeonjun was the last living memory Taehyun had of you; he was like his own older brother, and he wanted to protect his happiness.

"Jun, let me work here again, please," Taehyun requested, glancing at the flowers around him, his eyes flitting to the lilies.

Yeonjun squeezed his shoulder, mustering a smile. “Of course. You’re always welcome here.”

Taehyun almost forgot about the interrogation awaiting him when he walked back to his dorm. After the talk with Yeonjun, his head was in the clouds, swimming in pools of thoughts. He was still reflecting on Yeonjun’s words, still trying not to blame himself. It was hard not to when Taehyun kept regretting every three-word phrase he never said and every kiss he never pressed to your cheek.

When he opened the door to his dorm, Taehyun was greeted by his friends sitting in the living room. They were leaning back on their hands and watching some low-rate horror movie. When Taehyun walked into the living room, however, Beomgyu reached for the remote and turned it off.

"What are you…?"

Hyuka grinned at him. "Gyu told us you were going to talk."

Soobin and Beomgyu scooted to the sides of the couch so that Taehyun would have room to sit in the middle. He glanced at all of them, a light sigh escaping his lips when he saw the eagerness in their eyes. He knew he couldn’t keep pushing them away. Not anymore. Not ever.

And so, Taehyun told them from beginning to end about you, about the future they were going to have, and about all the flowers around you.

#txt scenarios #taehyun scenarios #txt angst #tomorrow x together #kang taehyun #taehyun angst #txt imagines #txt drabbles #txt oneshots #txt fanfic #taehyun imagines #taehyun drabbles #taehyun oneshots #taehyun fanfic #taehyun fluff #txt fluff

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demivampirew · 4 years ago

Text

Say no to this.

Henry x Reader (wife) x Reader (the other woman)

Triggers: Angst; cheating, breakup, divorce (and crying).

A/N: This was inspired by two songs from the musical Hamilton: Say No to This and Burn, and it’s told from the perspective of the characters (Henry, Reader (Wife), Reader (the other woman)

You can find more of my writings in the Masterlist

Having the chance to portray one of his favourite characters is an honour for which Henry will forever be thankful. Yet, he must admit that having to spend time apart from his family was not an easy task.

He sat on the bed in the dark hotel room, only enlightened by the moonlight. On his phone screen, he saw the picture you’ve sent him earlier that day of you and your daughter playing, you dressed as a princess and the six-year-old as a dragon. “Oh, your mighty witcher, come and save me, please,” read the message under the picture. Henry missed dressing up in costumes and running around the house with his little angel, who would laugh uncontrollably every time he caught and started to tickle her.

It’s been over two months since he left for work; 60 plus days without feeling the lovely touch of your hands on his face, too much time without feeling the warmness of your body against his.

He laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling for an hour, unable to sleep when his phone announced that he had a new message.

“Are you awake? I can’t sleep,” y/n wrote. She was a friend he made on the set of the show - she worked as a personal assistant for one of the recurrent directors of the show and she was staying at the same hotel that Henry. “Yes. Can’t sleep either. Come if you want,” he replied, thinking that some company would help him to feel less lonely.

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door. Henry opened the door and invited y/n to come in. Once inside, she faced him and smiled as she showed him the content of her bag: a PS and The Witcher 3 game. “I know you’re more into pc, but l don’t have a gaming pc here, so we will have to play with this, okay,” she said grinning.

“I remember you saying that you were good at this,” y/n while rolling her eyes, teasing him. “I am, but in the pc,” Henry defended himself with a playful smile.

They played the game for two hours before she suggested that it might be time for her to leave. Henry tried to disconnect the console from the tv but she told him to keep it, for now, so he could keep practising.

“Well, good night. I hope you can have a good sleep and tomorrow enjoy your free day,” y/n told him. “Same for you,” he said goodbye, but neither of them moved. They stared at each other for a long minute in silence. Henry’s hands reached for her face bringing it closer to his, culminating in a passionate kiss, while her arms embraced him.

Her naked body, covered only by the bed-sheets rested on the mattress as she slept. Henry looked at her for a moment and then walked towards the bathroom. He washed his face on the sink and then stared at the mirror, finding it hard to recognize the person that was reflected in the mirror. “I promise you that I will be forever faithful to you, my love” he once promised you, his lovely wife, and now the words echoed inside his mind, as stabs on his heart.

How could had he broken the promise he made you? Did he not loved you any more? No, that was sure of that, he loved you more than he had ever done. You no only made him happy and supported him through tough times, but you also gave him the thing that he treasured the most in the world: his daughter. But, he had to be honest with himself, for the first time in a long time and admit that things were not as they used to be. Before the birth of the little girl, you used to be inseparable. You would go with him everywhere in the world, game and laugh and made love every second you could. Now, you were parents; your lives centred on the precious angel and work and were often too tired and since the kid would like to sleep with you, often lacked intimacy.

The worst part of all: he wished that he could say that it was a one time mistake, but it became an affair that lasted for months.

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You hated yourself. In the past, you’d constantly criticized “the other woman” for being malicious women who stole men from others. Now you had become one of them. Well, no completely. Sure, you were carrying an affair with a married man, but you weren’t a fool, you knew that you would never be able to “stole” anyone and he would never leave his wife for you; he never made such a promise and you knew him well enough to know that he loved his family more than anything in the world and he was being vulnerable due to the distance between his true woman and him. Were you a bad woman for being with a taken man knowing that he was in such a delicate emotional position? Maybe, but to be completely honest, so were you. Months before you met Henry, your fiancé cancelled the wedding because he had fallen in love with somebody else. You were feeling lonely and undesired and you had developed a crush on him before that first night. So, you didn’t find the strength to fight the desire and succumb to the temptation.

Every night you’ve spent together, with his strong arms embracing you as his lips caressed your body, felt amazing no matter how wrong it was. And, even if your heart ripped every time you remembered that he wasn’t truly yours - and you were reminded of that constantly, since there was no a single time in which he hadn’t unconsciously said his wife’s name as he reached climax, you couldn’t find it in you to put it a stop.

You knew that this would have a bad end. No matter the outcome, someone would get hurt.

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That day, your sister offered to take care of your six-year-old so you could have some time to yourself to process things.

Desperate to get some distance and to be alone, you rented a small cabin outside the city.

The sun was coming down when you lifted a bonfire outside the place and sat in front of it with a box that you’ve carried there moments before.

Your fingers caressed every picture - of your first date, your first anniversary as girlfriend and boyfriend; vacations, birthdays and even your wedding. Every photo would get wet with your tears before you threw them into the fire. All objects that reminded of the love you once shared, ended up becoming ashes. Letters, poems, teddy bears, roses that you dried; everything. The only surviving things were the pictures you shared with your daughter, but you would make sure to send them to his mother because you didn’t want to see them any more, the pain was too great.

Finally, you took from your pocket the pictures you printed before to look at them for one last time. They were screenshots from a celebrity news website and the headline read “The Witcher star Henry Cavill is seen kissing a mystery woman”, followed by paparazzi photos of him with someone on the balcony of his hotel room. Angrily, you crashed the prints and let them burn into they became nothing.

With nothing more to do, you watched the flames, as you let your tears fall, feeling completely and utterly broken.

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The production was over. After the news crashed, Henry had to continue filming, pretending that nothing happened, while some people looked at him as if he was a monster. Could he blame them for that?

When the article about his affair was published, his brother Charlie was the one who delivered the bad news - his stepdaughter had seen it and told him about it.

He didn’t know what to do. He called his wife over and over, but she never answered. All-day long he tried to communicate with his love, but every time without luck.

Y/N tried to call him, too, but this time he was the one who ignored the call. He had nothing against her. Henry knew that she could no be blamed for his mistake, but he couldn’t talk to her right now. His wife was his priority.

Unfortunately, the only response he got from her was from her sister, two days later, letting him know that she was going to file for a divorce and she never wanted to see him or talk to him again. That she would only allow him to contact her, through her or another family member and elusively for things related to their daughter. She was going to share custody with him, but he would have to pick up and leave the girl on her sister or parent’s house.

Now, months later, he driving to his sister-in-law’s house to pick up his daughter and to leave the divorce papers that he had to sing.

There were no words to explain how much it hurt him to lose the woman he loved deeply. The only consolation was that his family continued to show him love and support as they always did. And, his daughter, unaware of the reason why her mommy and daddy decided to go separate ways, still love him enormously and would fill him with joy every minute of every day that he had her.

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It was obvious that there was no going to be a good end to the affair - it never does. You knew someone would get hurt, but you’d never imagined that it would be all three of you.

Terrible didn’t even begin to explain how bad you felt. Of all the three of you, you were the one who got it the “best”, since luckily the pictures only showed your hair in a bun and your back, so only a few close people knew that it was you and they were polite enough to keep the secret to avoid you getting harassed. Although, just in case, you dried your hair and got a new haircut.

Henry’s wife filed for the divorce after she found out about the affair. He let you know via text when he put an end to things and told you he could no longer see you. Even if there was no chance to get back with her, he couldn’t be with you because he loved her too much and you reminded him of the mistake he made. As he suggested, you continued working for a few more weeks there to avoid people finding out that it was you, but later quit.

That was by far the worst mistake that you’ve ever made. So much people got hurt; a girl now has two parents that can’t be in the same room, two people who loved each other who can’t be together because the ghost of you would always be present to remind them of the mistake and a person who’s affection was never truly corresponded and caused the break of a family.

Therapy has been truly beneficial in helping you heal and leaving the past in the past.

Today a new article about Henry was posted online. It consisted of pictures of him and his cute girl buying a Christmas tree and he was laughing at his daughter's funny faces.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill angst #demivampirew

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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I Feel it all Over - t. 04 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Kiara surprises you at church and you spend the day with her, JJ, and Pope.

A/N: If you haven't ever listened to them...can I just highly recommended listening to The Maine (whose album You Are Ok this is based on)? They’re music is amazing...You Are Ok, American Candy, and Pioneer are probably my favorite albums of theirs. Plus they did an incredible cover of Watermelon Sugar...if you’re a fan of Harry Styles.

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ I swear to every god I feel everything tonight with you ✞

New patrons to the church were usually whole families that came to services, whose fathers or mothers agreed your father’s lesson and felt drawn to the “community” of the Baptist denomination. They responded to the clickbait phrases and did feel lost in their everyday life. It was very rare that any new member, or anyone testing the church out for the first time, would be a single person, a teenager far removed from the beliefs and traditions of the church. But there was Kiara, walking up the few steps into the vestibule. She wasn’t here because of any lost feelings; she was here because she wanted to get to know you more. What JJ had told her, and what she had seen for herself on Friday, was someone that she definitely wanted to be friends with.

She had no bet to dictate how or when she became friends with you. She slipped into the line of people entering the church, catching sight of you standing by the door handing out pamphlets for that morning’s service. Making sure she was at the end of the line, she waved as she approached, happy to see you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, glancing into the church before giving her a quick hug. If your parents or any other family saw they would ask how you knew this complete stranger and why you seemed so friendly with someone who had never been to the church before.

“JJ stole you on Friday,” she shrugged, “thought maybe we could hang out after church?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, a story already formulating in your head to tell your parents. Your mother always said that a lie was the devil on your tongue and the first time she’d said it you were convinced that the devil had taken out real estate because you lied constantly, and with ease. Sometimes just to see if you could get away with it. “That would be amazing.”

As far as friends went, you had very few. Your main source of companionship had come from your brothers and sisters, other friends were just acquaintances from youth group or church retreats that you never really felt any deeper connection with. The further away from the fold you felt, the less you found a community for yourself. You had been doubting for so long now that anything within the church felt like a show you were putting on for other people’s amusement, the emotions weren’t real and niether were you.

JJ wasn’t the first boy you had ever let yourself like but he was the first person you had ever felt comfortable being yourself around. There was no fear of judgement or rejection with him, nothing you said was turned into a weapon to make you feel guilty or unworthy, you didn’t have to pretend to be someone you weren’t. You had been nervous to meet his friends, feeling so different from them, but Kiara and Pope had been nice, welcoming, and all you felt was ease. Even now, seeing Kiara had put a more genuine smile on your face than seeing your family visiting for church.

“I wore my best ‘church’ outfit,” Kiara said, gesturing to the maxi dress and sweater she was wearing. The dress was backless and strappy but it was the only thing she owned that wasn’t short. She’d thrown a sweater overtop, hoping she could play off the dress better.

“You blend right in,” you laughed, “I’m relegated to sit up front...I don’t know if you wanna sit with me up there?”

“Lead the way.”

The “peace be with you’s” weren’t too bad and you lied to your mom when she asked how you knew Kiara, telling her that you had met at Heyward's and invited Kiara to church because she was interested in the tract you had. Your mother’s love for testimony and her conviction that people really did want to be approached on the street and harassed about their faith were enough to convince her that your story was solid. It was enough, even, to give you permission to go to lunch with Kiara after service was over.

Kiara hadn’t been to church since she was thirteen and her mom decided that she was old enough to choose whether or not she actually wanted to be there. That sort of power and responsibility had been all Kiara needed to ditch Sunday service altogether and spend her mornings out on the waves with the pogues, worshipping a different sort of force. She was a lot less religious and a lot more spiritual now though she listened intently to your father preaching. The opinions were hogwash, nothing to bat an eye at, but the actual teachings were interesting. You seemed relatively invested in those parts too, your notes, Kiara realized, looked a lot more like a theology lesson than a preacher’s condemnation of society.

“You know a lot about the bible,” Kiara mentioned once you were out of church and back at her house, changing into jeans and a shirt of hers.

“I like studying religion, theology,” you clarified, “my grandfather knew a lot about the texts. Not like my dad, he’s just...got his own ideas. My grandfather knew the Greek and Hebrew translations and spent years studying other religions as well. It was so cool to talk to him about it. I like that part, the history, the context, more than the ‘fundamentalist/evangelical crap’ my dad touts.”

“Is that something you’d study?” She asked, pulling a tank top on over her bathing suit, “like in college?”

“My parents won’t let me go to college.” You replied.

“That’s so crazy, my parents would kill me if I didn’t go.”

You spent the drive to Kiara’s dad’s restaurant explaining your parents future plan for your life, including telling her about the boy that your parents wanted you to marry. When she asked if JJ knew you admitted that he did and that you weren’t really sure what was going to happen when you turned eighteen. You knew what your parents wanted, for you to get engaged and then quickly married, but that wasn’t what you wanted at all.

“If I say that though...there’s a good chance I’d be ex-communicated. Not just from the church but from my family. One of my cousins defected and no one speaks to her anymore.” You said, “it’s like a massive stain on her family’s reputation.”

“Yeah but if she’s happy, does it matter?”

“It’s...it’s not just that I haven’t worn jeans or drank a soda,” you said, following Kiara out onto the back deck to eat, “it’s that I don’t have anyone outside my family. It’s not just being sheltered, it’s being isolated. And I know that, and I hate it but...it’s all I know.”

“None of your siblings have done it differently?”

“No.” You shook your head, “I think I would’ve been fine coasting too...I was pretty much set that this was it ya know? But then...JJ asked me out.” You admitted.

Kiara frowned, “yeah but you don’t know what’s gonna happen with JJ in the future.”

You shrugged, “it’s not just about him...it’s me, feeling happier and more confident.”

“Talking about me?” JJ’s voice came from behind you and you turned around, watching him and Pope walk up to the railing of the deck. He put his hands on the railing, pulling himself up so he could lean over and kiss your cheek.

“I should’ve known you guys would crash.” Kiara said, rolling her eyes as JJ climbed the rest of the way up, hopping over the railing onto the deck.

“What’re you guys up to?” Pope asked, staying on the other side.

“Kie mentioned taking the ferry to Chapel Hill.” You replied, “I have to be back before dark though.”

“So what’re we waiting for?” JJ said, grabbing your soda and taking a sip.

The four of you rode the ferry over to Chapel Hill, standing on the back deck the whole time talking. Kiara suggested shopping the moment you got off the ferry, telling you that all she wanted was to see you pick out an actual outfit.

“Nothing hand-me-down or borrowed, just like a real, honest outfit that you pick out.” Kiara said, taking your hand in hers as she pushed open the door to one of the small stores along the main road.

JJ followed you to the back of the store where the sale racks were, skimming through clothes, holding up different things that were still a little too far out of your comfort zone. You shook your head at a spaghetti strapped mini dress, pulling a crossover out to show him, “I like this one.”

“Try it on.” He shrugged.

“Where’s the changing area?” You asked, looking around the small area.

JJ grabbed your hand, “over here.” He led you to the curtained off stalls, pulling you into one of them and hanging the dress up.

“I have a very strong feeling that if anyone caught us we would be in massive trouble.” You whispered, biting your lip to stop from laughing as JJ moved so that you were looking in the mirror and he was behind you, hands on your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into the space between your shirt and your neck, kissing the exposed skin.

“Yeah but you’ve never been shopping so what do you know?” JJ replied, as if it was obvious and he wasn’t just bullshitting you to stay in the changing room.

You turned in his arms, putting your hands over his, “I’m not changing with you in here.”

“Fine,” he groaned, “If I leave will you try on something for me?”

“Fine.” You mimicked. You kissed him, initiating it for yourself this time, before pushing him into the curtain. He gave another exasperated sigh as he swept the curtain out of the way and left you to change.

Alone in the dressing room, you changed out of your clothes and tried on the floral wrap dress. It tied off at the waist, cutting a deep V and a slit up to your thigh. It was a dress but not like any you had ever worn before. You pushed the curtain enough that you could peek out to see JJ. He was slouched in the chair, texting, while he waited for you.

“I thought you were picking something out?” You said, looking over at him.

He shrugged, “I’d rather see what you like then pick something out for you.”

“Thanks,” you nodded.

JJ watched you as you pushed the curtain back and stepped out of the changing room. “Holy shit,” he mouthed. “Wait, don’t move!”

“What? Why?” You asked as he lifted his phone in front of his face.

“I wanna picture of this.” He replied. Sure, he had seen you in a dress before but he had never seen you in a dress like this, one that actually fit you well, that wasn’t trying to hide your figure but accentuate it. One that you looked so incredibly happy in.

“So I take it I don’t look half bad?” You joked, stepping further out when he had stashed his phone and stood up.

“Half bad? You look...incredible.” JJ replied. Deciding it was worth mentioning, he added, “you look really happy.”

“I really like this dress. I’ve never really...liked anything I’ve worn before. Like, it’s just always felt like, clothes. This is different.” You admitted.

Your clothes were just whatever hand-me-downs fit you. From siblings, relatives, church members, it was never your stuff, you never chose it, never got to say what you liked or disliked.

“Oh my god!” Kiara exclaimed, coming over and interrupting your moment with JJ, “you look so pretty.”

“Thanks.” You nodded, smiling at her, “I think I’m gonna get it.”

“Let me.” JJ piped up and you looked over at him.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” He insisted.

There was little further discussion to be had about it, JJ purchasing the dress for you and the four of you wandering around the rest of Chapel Hill, heading in and out of a few different shops. Pope talked to you about his future college plans and you listened intently. Being with JJ was amazing but being able to be friends with a guy, just sitting with Pope and not having to consider anything other that friendship, was so underrated in your life. You had never been friends with a boy either.

Kiara drove you back to your house after you changed, just getting inside as your sister Praise was setting the table. “Hi! I’m so sorry I’m late!” You apologized, “Kie and I were just chatting and I lost track of time.”

“That’s okay Ace, mom was just telling us about Timothy’s visit. Are you excited?” Praise asked, wrapping her arms around you in a hug.

You hugged her back, “I’m very excited.” You lied.

Robert gave you a hug as you walked further into the house, handing off a baby and soon you were outside, supervising kids while your other siblings sat and chatted with your parents around the table. You were only two years younger than Robert but he was married with a kid and another on the way and that automatically made you still a kid. Though you felt less and less like a kid every day.

Your parents talked about Timothy’s visit and their own upcoming trip, ignoring anything that actually had to do with you or your interests. Even Praise, in talking about your upcoming nuptials, mentioned that her dress was still in good condition if you needed one.

“Oh, wouldn’t that be amazing Ace? You could wear Praise’s dress?” Your mother mentioned from across the table, smiling at you as if all her dreams were being realized right there at the table.

“Amazing.”

The sound of tapping at your window startled you as you sat on the bed, reading before sleep. You walked over, lifting the blinds to see JJ standing there. He waved as you opened the window for him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I missed you, I wanted to see you.” He replied, leaning into the window space.

“You just saw me earlier.” You pointed out.

“I also wanted to know if you wanted to go for a ‘midnight swim’ with me, Kie, and Pope?” JJ said, “we’re taking the HMS out. John B and Sarah don’t feel like going out and I figured you might.”

“I’m lucky no one caught me last time JJ,” you replied, “I don’t know if I can risk it.”

“That’s fine,” he said, “you don’t have to.”

You bit your bottom lip, glancing back over at your door. Your parents were asleep for the night and the thought of getting to spend more time with JJ was just too tempting for you to say no too. You were sure your dad had some bible verse to offer for you as proof that this was an evil infatuation but you could care less, agreeing to go and grabbing the swimsuit that JJ had given you. “Just let me change.”

“Can do.” JJ turned around, back to the window, and you almost laughed.

You changed quickly before climbing out the window, “I better not get in trouble for this.”

JJ led you through the woods to John B’s house, just like the night of the kegger, taking you down to the jetty. Kiara waved when she saw you and Pope helped you onto the HMS.

“I can’t believe you let him sneak you out.” Pope joked as JJ boarded the boat.

He drove you out on the marsh, parking in an open area where they couldn’t be seen by lights at the edge of anyone’s yard. The HMS didn’t have lights itself and they banked on that to keep themselves mostly out of trouble. Kiara lit a lantern in the middle of the boat but otherwise it was dark as they jumped in, JJ hanging back with you.

The two of you sat on the bench together, in your own little world seemingly. “Can I try a sip?” You asked, holding your hand out for the beer he was drinking.

“You sure?” He asked.

“Yeah, positive.”

He passed the beer over, laughing when you took a big gulp and then practically spit in out. “Oh my god, that’s horrible!” You cried, sticking your tongue out.

“I warned you.” He laughed.

“Not enough,” you replied, “that’s really gross.”

“Sorry babe,” he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against him and kissing your cheeks and then your lips. “We’ll stick to soda for now.”

“Yes please.” You replied, kissing him back.

“Quit macking on each other and get in the water!” Pope shouted, grabbing on to the side of the boat and pushing himself up so that the HMS would rock slightly.

You grabbed onto JJ more, laughing as the boat swayed.

“What the fuck Pope, we’re coming.” He grumbled. “I’m trying to spend time with my girlfriend.”

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oreopata · 3 years ago

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I knew things were going to feel heavy, given my gran’s birthday tomorrow. But, things had to take a worse turn last night. Now I just feel… so miserable.

Do you guys remember when an ex-friend of mine and Jam’s became so two-faced, started saying stuff on our podcasts behind our backs, manipulating, backstabbing, gaslighting before then just blocking everyone in our circle before accusing every one of us of all sorts, myself included. Always fun when someone will tell you to your face how we can’t wait to do so much together and call you their sister - then talk on stream to the one person viewing it about me and our friends. included but we’re not limited to accusing me of being someone who fabricated my entire friendship with Robert and listed romantic cliches or make it sound like a fairytale to try and somehow one-up her because none of it sounded real to her, accuse me of being a creep that fetishised older men (while she herself is into older men and talked in conversations about that), of being someone who needs to one-up her on everything to make myself look better - even though I’ve never been anything but complimentary skills, of body-shaming her despite never mentioning her body outside of saying she looked pretty in one of her selfies; that would constantly shut her up and dominate a conversation. Also being a lie because there’s nothing to stop her speaking in text convos and how often I would send her stuff I knew she would love and talk to her about them, telling me how those things would cheer her up - even if it’s outside my wheelhouse. And plenty more to paint be as a narcissistic, compulsively lying Regina George figure. Despite having never said a bad word to or against her.

Not that I was the only one limited to that other side of her face. She would talk hours and hours about Jam being a manipulative racist for having the audacity for setting her up an IMDB page to showcase her work. Aswell as showing herself to be manipulating and abusing him for some time leading up to that. Projecting her own actions into him and spinning narratives to fit her favour. Safe to assume this took a massive toll on my mental health and put me in a dark place.

This around two years ago. I thought I never had to think about it again. Then I get the shock of my life to see her on my timeline again. She is now part of the Stephen Silver academy. An online school I always wanted to join but never had the money. There she is enjoying mentorship merch and being part of a community I only hoped to be. Working as his marketing director. Her 3D modelling work now giving her work in games. A perfect position, perfect looks, perfect skin. Perfect everything.

And meanwhile I’m still wallowing away in my home every day. Some attempts to draw proving unsuccessful and my skills atrophy. She enjoys her beauty, meanwhile my appearance still makes me a social recluse. My cheeks stinging from plucking just to prepare for a day in public, then getting the worsening acne and ingrown hairs for the trouble. And there’s always something about my appearance to learn about. Be it my bad hair or my lumpy legs, according to my mum.

It feels like the only thing separating me from those neckbeard memes is my sex.

She won. She’s got it all. I guess she was always right. I’m still just enduring every day. Sometimes the only happiness I feel is talking to friends and enjoying an evening meal. Otherwise every single day I feel like I have nothing to look towards.

I told myself this this year will be the one. That I’ll be open for business before my 27th birthday. Now I wonder if I’ll even have that to show. Or will it all just fail again. My mum even said how I just give up on everything I try. I don’t give up. I just fail. I’ll be 27 years old and don’t have a proper adult life to show for it. Just years of mental and physical damage.

My grandmothers birthday is tomorrow. Every year I’ll visit her grave with a thermos of tea. But recently every visit just ends with me sobbing in front of it, saying how sorry I am that things have gotten this bad. Part of me is glad she can’t see me like this, but I also wonder if things could’ve gotten this bad if she was still alive. The last person in my family who really understood me, who didn’t make me feel like a disappointment, who I ever actually loved.

Despite any past determination, I constantly feel like my life is just a waste. I’m not living a real life, I’m not living one that shows I’ve had purpose or lived up to all the expectations people had of me. I’m just, I suppose what Americans call a bum. It feels like my immediate goals are just pipe dreams after all these years of constant failings. Some days I wake up and I’m instantly filled with dread. I wake up and go “oh no”. Because then I’m reminded of who and what I am. I back to reality, and I just have to shuffle thought the day until my friends are online and then the darkness can go away. And I wonder if there really is no real future for me. Just more of this.

Some days I feel like the friends I have are friends because they can’t see all me. Just text on a screen. They don’t see the constant squandered potential and gross body that people see in real life. ‘Cos that’s what people around me have seen, what my entire family sees. And I hate feeling like this, because then I feel ungrateful for the friends h have. And god knows I don’t have the words to describe how much I love my online friends. How they make each day so much brighter. How some days they are the only source happiness I’ll get.

When I go up to my grandmothers grave tomorrow, I don’t know what I’ll be able to say. Just talk to the headstone and say it’s still as bad as it was last year. How much I tried to be brave for everyone but couldn’t. How much I still miss her and since she died I don’t feel any great love or any feeling for anyone related to me anymore. How alien and isolated it makes me feel. Apologise for how the roses I bought a couple days for her birthday have already shrivelled and died before I could give them to her. Sums it all up, dosnt it? I’m determined this deadline will finally be the day. But, not like I haven’t said that before. Like in a couple months I’ll suddenly turn things around and have a life that makes all my previous years not feel like a waste. That I haven’t spent over a decayed trying and failing to recover from trauma and abuse that I always accepted as normal.

Seeing where I am now, and seeing Where that ex-friend is now. It makes me think I guess she was right. Everything she’s said and done has gotten her a good life. She won, I guess she was the good guy, I’m just here because it’s what I deserve. Im still here because I was too stupid, too lazy, too weak, not as talented as I thought I was or people told me when I was a kid. Im just another example of those people that can’t get their shit together and all their pathetic just oozes through like grease through pours. I still almost no reason I have to hide in my house. Just having to endure more painful shaving and fucking up my face thanks to hormonal disorder, and having to put-on shapewear to appear slimmer enough to not have my mum chastise me another day. And just deal with either the unreal back or pain in my nether regions to the point where I bleed a little. Just to avoid more of those words that hurt so much worse than anything I have to physically put myself thought just to be acceptable to appear in public.

I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I don’t know what I deserve, if anything. I don’t know if I’m going to achieve any of my hopes and goals when every passing day brings it further away from me and makes me weaker to any chance of being normal. I suppose the only certain thing is that I’ll be ordering a takeaway and no doubt drinking a fair bit tomorrow. Drink to my grandmothers memory until I lose most of mine. I’m just so tired. Every single day, I’m tired and I don’t know what to do about it. Sometimes, I don’t know why I keep trying.

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gettothestabbing · 3 years ago

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I feel like a third wheel a lot nowadays.

At work, I’m still the newbie, and while most coworkers are gracious about it, one is not. The next youngest person (a man in his early thirties from the Philippines) corrects me in front of my patients whenever I have to use him as a secondary CSN, which is frequently. He will even say what he is changing, and not ‘through’ the patient, which is a big flaw in his technique and extremely rude, even if he were the primary CSN it would not be appropriate.

This person asked me out in the first few weeks of my moving here, and I said yes, then amended it to a no after I saw how his behavior towards me changed. He invaded my personal space in the hallways (obviously on purpose because we have wide halls, I’m talking standing literally right behind me), stared at me constantly, asked me endless questions while I was trying to eat (in very broken English, so that it took 3-4 sentences to communicate 1 sentence’s worth of information), always took breaks at the same time as me, and even inserted himself into professional conversations with other staff members. In short, he freaked me out, and I’ve been avoiding eye contact and conversation with him for weeks. I did try to explain that he had made me uncomfortable, but he told me “not to overthink it” and has continued most of this behavior. I’ve talked to supervisors about it, but they said that unless he disrupts care with his behavior that I should simply keep ignoring him.

The other third-wheel feeling is coming from my sister being married. She’s been with the same guy since college, her first boyfriend, and they’re very committed to each other. Each always makes the other’s comfort their first priority. It’s very sweet and commendable. But I’ve been feeling very lonely about it. Although they live across the country, I talk to my sister throughout the day, every day, and have since I left for college.

My sister sometimes teases me about my media habits, actors I like, that sort of thing. But it’s not always easy to tell when she’s kidding, especially over text, and also because I know her pretty well and I know that she genuinely doesn’t like much of the media I do. On our last few visits with each other, she and her husband showed me some of It’s Always Sunny. I like some of the episodes, but I haven’t watched it regularly because the characters seem like such unpleasant people. I don’t have a deep connection to the show; unfortunately, it reminds me of Family Guy, which I had a brief obsession with watching but which I don’t consider about 95% of good. Her husband really likes it, and we’ve bonded over South Park and similar humor before as a trio. I hoped to watch my current favorite show (Frasier) with them, as a trade-off. We never found time to watch it with her husband, although we watched 1 or 2 episodes during our girl time. My sister didn’t seem to like it at all. \

Now, my sister has seen me go through several fandoms and phases. I have these periods of hyperfixation on media, lasting from 2 weeks to over a year, and I even rotate through old fandoms on occasion. My sister is used to hearing me overanalyse and gush about a show she’s not watching, and though she complains sometimes, she usually doesn’t mind much. But now she seems to shut me down every single time. I can’t talk about what I like at all because she just counters with a suggestion that I watch the things she and her husband are watching. (This, by the way, is something my father and stepmother do whenever I visit them. It is rare that I can convince anyone to watch something I like anymore.)

Add to this the fact that I’m continually having matches expire or reject me on my dating app, that my patients cannot hold any conversations with me, that I cannot talk to coworkers for more than 5 minutes at once as my care involves me working solo with people most of the time, and the fact that I have repeatedly failed to draw any neighbors into a conversation if I pass them on the sidewalk, and I’m really feeling like my life is all about working and living alone. I can’t even be a cat lady because my living situation (cheap and nice though it is) does not allow me to have pets, so they have to live with my dad.

So her refusal to talk with me, about this show and also much in general lately, was a last-straw situation, and I poured out a bunch of frustration, anger, and loneliness in several texts at once. I feel bad dumping all my feelings on her like that. I am trying to do that in journals and not to people, but I also need to be honest with her when she’s hurting my feelings or she’ll never realize she’s doing it. She said she was just teasing me about the show, but I never thought that was teasing. It’s not what it felt or sounded like. It legitimately hurts my feelings that no one cares to hear about anything I think or like. I just want to talk about my day and a funny joke I heard, but everyone’s too busy or tired of hearing it.

I know my sister can’t keep being my main support system: she’ll start a family someday soon, and her husband needs her support more than I do. (Well, some days maybe not more, but she’ll prioritize him over me so let’s just say it that way.) I used to rely on my dad this way, but he’s not good at pretending to care when he’s tired of talking, so I realized quickly that I couldn’t do that. So I keep trying to form new relationships and make new friends. And I keep failing over and over. It’s hard to meet new people when people are afraid of strangers to a hysterical degree right now, not to mention that I’m just not very good at making friends and never have been.

My whole life just feels Sisyphean these days. Like no matter what I do or how I improve myself, nothing will ever really change around me. I’ll keep trying to date and never get past the third outing. I’ll keep trying to make friends and find myself at arm’s length or more. Sure, I can improve my skin, lose/maintain weight and fitness, keep my house clean and my food baked fresh and my mind polished. But it doesn’t seem to matter.

It doesn’t make up for the silence. I can play videos and movies at top volume every second I’m not at work, but the night is still silent and dark, and I am still alone in it.

I didn’t prioritize career over dating. I’ve been trying to find someone since I got into college (my dad forbade me to date in high school without my sister as a chaperone, and then claimed he was ‘kidding’ when I asked him why after my senior prom). I’ve become more and more friendly and outgoing since college too. Yet I had more friends in college than I do now. This is probably because (1) all of my male friends ended up asking me out at one point, which always killed the friendship despite my attempts to revive it and (2) everyone had only two places to eat on campus so you had to be friendly to sit with someone.

My dad once told me that my relationships would improve as I got older, because I would meet people better suited to me as I specialized and found my place in the workplace. That’s what happened to him, and to an extent with my sister. Consider that they both married their college boy/girlfriends. They never lived alone in their twenties but always in a dorm or with their future spouse. They never changed career paths after college, they wait to get pets until they’ve got their first house, and they never had someone try to blacklist them from their field on false pretenses (or at all >.>). And they both put their spouse’s comfort above all else, which again is admirable and likely what I would do in their place.

But in our family, this creates Dad + Stepmom, sister + bro-in-law, and then me, the spare tire on the back of the car, a fifth wheel which is only a step above third-wheeling and not a big step above it. And I’m tired of it but I can’t change it, and all I can do is keep trying to change it and try to be grateful for the present moment because things could always, always be worse.

#personal #pers com #this is a long feelings dump so really ask yourself if you want to read it before clicking #you were warned

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juniaships · 4 years ago

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Yall Some Fake Ass Friends: Malina ficlet

The one where my OC/quasi SI defends TFA!Optimus by setting the record straight for latter's former friends. Warning: Long text, character bashing. Script form.

Black Arachnia *to Sentinel*: I wouldn't look this way if you & Optimus had come and saved me! It's his fault I'm stuck like this!

Sentinel: Optimus ran back to try to save you if anything that's his fault!

Malina: Hold it! *flies up right in front of their faces on her jetpack*

Malina: I've held my tongue for a while now but you know what, I don't care so let's get something straight! What happened to you was not Optimus's fault! He sacrificed a lot to get where he is now.

Sentinel: Oh look the organic is trying to preach to us.

Malina: Well as this organic will preach I haven't seen a single instance where you've made a sacrifice for someone's sake. Especially not for Optimus!

Sentinel: Whaddya mean? I've made plenty of sacrifices for him! I sacrificed my head yet he laughed at me twice!

Malina: Surely you had to give up your prospects of Elite Guard for Optimus right? I mean, he had gave up his rank so you wouldn't get in trouble for sneaking to Archa Seven.

Sentinel: Wait, how do you know about Archa Seven?!

Malina: Your friend told me. In fact he tells me a lot of things see *flaunts the autobot pendant Prime gave her many months ago* But I want to ask, when have any of you ever sacrificed for anyone else?

Blackarachnia: I lost my true self and freedom! You think I liked being in this hideous form? You think you know so much about us when tou have no idea how cruel fate can be.

Malina: Oh I know. Just enough to know that you and Sentinel share something in common

Sentinel: At least I don't join a bunch filthy warmongers *glares pointedly at Arachnia, who hissed back just as venomously*

Malina: I'll give you that but still, none of it would've had happened if you'd just listened to Optimus. He told me he never wanted to break protocol.

Sentinel: Even if I had listened it still would've been the same! Gah I don't have time for this!

Malina: Still not seeing the big picture huh? I guess that giant crown must be giving you vision problems. And I doubt you want to be lost in a stinky, organic-infested jungle so it's better for you to stay riiiight here.

*Sentinel pouts*

Malina: Look what I'm trying to say here is, Optimus sacrificed everything for you yet how do you thank him? By picking on him, picking on us, his team, his real friends, constantly shaming him by bringing up every little mistake he ever made. I bet you didn't even thank him for taking the heat for you! Nor did you even say "I'm sorry for getting you kicked out of Autobot Academy because I was too caught up in my own self"! Your a terrible friend.

Sentinel: Now you're just talking some scrap! I am the perfect friend for him! His BEST friend! The best bot for him!

Malina: You're not a good bot, much less a good friend. In fact I think maybe you weren't friends with him at all. Just someone who wanted to ride on his coattails.

Sentinel: Now that's not true! I did things on my own back at the acadmey! I mean help me Eli- I mean Blackarachnia, tell this stupid organic I was a fantastic student back in the day!

*Blackarachnia remains slient; her ex starts getting nervous*

Sentinel: I have a great personality! When my best friend comes back he'll tell you! I make great rules so that Cybertron can go back to the way it was! No even better, a brand new Golden Age!

Malina: Your poor decision-making reflects your poor personality, Sentinel Magnus. You tricked your own citizens by accepting bribes from some Decepticons, you know, the enemy faction. You don't bother to learn my planet's culture or traffic laws for that matter. At least I try to learn Cybertornian ways so that I can communicate with your people better. You on the other hand? Always make messes for someone else to clean up while you slink away lying about how great and competent a leader you are. You talk down to my kind as if we're too stupid to understand the world. Not even giving us a chance. If that's your idea of a Golden Age I'd hate to see your idea of a Dark Age.

Blackarachnia *grinning at her ex being roasted: Hm. Maybe this little organic got more spark than I thought.

Malina: Oh no you don't Miss Spider! Don't act like you're all innocent! That first battle all the way back on Halloween you tried to kill my sister. Yes Sari's my sister.

Blackarachnia: I did warn her. She shouldn't have gotten in my way.

Malina: So she could stop you from destroying our city! All that noise for a cure that could've harmed you more than it would've helped you.

Blackarachnia: It would've worked if it hadn't been for certain interruptions. Besides I wasn't waiting on Megatron, I wasn't even aware of his presence.

Malina: If that's the case how come none of the Decepticons ever tried to help you find a cure? Seems to me they only said that to take advantage of you. Before you start to think I'm being heartless no. I'm sorry for what happened to you. Truly I am. If there was any way to reverse it I would try! But if you think I'm going to tolerate one more second of you trying to guilt Optimus you got another thing coming! Either that or Waspinator.

Sentinel: Wapsinator? That traitor that snuck into our ranks?

Malina: The Autobot recruit you threw in the brig to waste away for probably I dunno, hundreds of years all because of flimsy evidence.

Sentinel: How would I know that the accusations were baseless? Bumblebhead told me and I'd trust the word of an Autobot even one as clumsy as he!

Malina: Bumblebee, and he regrets ever accusing Wasp. Bee's been kicking himself in the rotor and wants help the guy he indirectly hurt! That's what makes them so different from you lot. You two always blame Optimus or others for your problems, you hurt others with no remorse, you redirect your self-loathing towards anyone who nothing to do with your pain. We have to heal from our pain so we can be better! Do better! All the while the two of you whine and complain about how horrible the world treats you or how awful you feel about the past or how much of a failure Optimus is when he's the one who had to LEARN from failure. All of us did! You two ungrateful protoforms never learn anything!!!

*Sentinel & BlackArachnia stare in complete silence*

Malina: And you know what hurts the most about all this. Optimus told me the reason he stuck by you after all those years was because he thought that, maybe you'd forgive him and be his friend again. That maybe the two of you would come to terms with what happened and maybe reclaim the friendship that was lost. I was completely on board with that because guess what? He's my friend and friends are supposed to trust each other! So why can't you? Why after all these solar cycles have you refused to put your faith in Optimus after everything he's done?

*Sentinel and Arachnia continue to stare in silence*

Malina: Now I see that it's impossible. I think I speak for a lot of people when I say you richly deserve each other.

*Sentinel and Arachnia still stare in complete shock at the audacity of the "organic's" callout. Malina smiles. She is right.*

#fanfiction #tfa optimus prime #tfa oc #revivetfa #blackarachnia #character bashing #sentinel prime #transformers animated #fake friends

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theyearsiturnedintoaghost · 3 years ago

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Hello, Is This Thing On?

Hi! (as mentioned above). Do people still use this thing? I have no idea. Years ago, and I do mean YEARS ago, I had one of these. I didn’t use it for much, just reposting things, following humans I’d met in online communities, a ‘celebrity’ here or there, sometimes screaming about shit I couldn’t control into the void that is the endless scrolling interweb, and being pointless in wasting my time between classes, work, and twenty-something. Regardless, my previous tumblr had minimal followers, made minimal impact, and that was okay. It was honestly just a nice place to sort of hide in plain sight. Still be part of a social world without actually having to do much. This was also pre a billion other apps and social media outlets to express yourself or scroll mindlessly at a million other pointless things that people were posting to make you giggle or even just stop for a second and think.

Clearly, the point of this, back then, felt like something I would use to help propel my writing career. Turns out, it did not. I did not write much, if at all. And most of the time I think it was because I was scared nothing was as good as any of the other stuff I was reading from people I liked, and thought were so much cooler and smarter than me; I still feel this way all of the time, but I do realize this was me being nervous, small minded about myself, and completely unconfident.

Unfortunately, I am still most of these things a lot of the time, but recently, after getting fired from a job, having my heart broken by pretty much everyone on the planet, especially a few specific people, cancelled by all of my friends (?) - this is a thing btw. (It’s not as awful as being cancelled publicly, but it does still ruin your life, mindset, confidence, and overall physical and mental wellbeing) Getting a new job, hating it and feeling like I was going no where, and missing out on living a life I felt proud of and that I was actively participating in, I decided maybe I should just try to write it all out and see what happens.

To be frank, I expect nothing of this. I can’t fathom a world where anything I have to say truly matters to people because lets be real - everyone has this own shit and everyone is going through so much all of the time. And we all think we have something new, quirky, interesting, and important to say. And in a world that constantly shoves perfection down our throats and works so hard to make each of us feel completely inadequate to every Kardashian, Beyonce, Grande, etc., it’s hard to really think that anything I have to say will matter to anyone; at all.

(I also hate that all of my ‘perfectionist’ people were female, but maybe it’s harder to compare to Golden Boys when you are a female. Either way, there are many boys/men/theys/thems that are put on a pedestal and made out to be perfect out there, as well, and they deserve that notation as well. I just have no points of reference off the top of my head, so please forgive me; I am trying to do this in a stream of consciousness type thing.)

I mean, the truth is, I’m a fucking mess. I’m 33, single, living at home, afraid of my own shadow most of the time, and spend about 98% of my time alone. I pay for a phone plan that I literally only use to send memes to my two sisters, and that’s about it. I rarely receive texts, invites out, or even calls to make plans for something. And while a lot of this is my own doing - again, I did cut off most of the world after I realized I was sort of the joke to a lot of people - it’s still kind of pathetic, and entirely uncool. I am not a socialite, or someone cool and trendy, and to be honest, I kind of never want to be.

Which is a semi-false statement, because years ago, when I had one of these previously, I sort of hoped it would work out and that I could write and be ‘cool.’ Whatever the fuck that means. But now, years later, I’m honestly beyond glad I am not cool; not in the slightest. Maybe that’s making it to your 30s? Maybe the trade for having to create a daily routine of lathering up my body with like 9 different versions of FDA-Approved-Vampire-Juice on my skin to prevent me from looking any older than I already do, you in turn get to have a brain that finally realizes... having a ‘normal’ life is honestly pretty cool? Normal is clearly subjective here as everyone is normal, famous, notoriety, or not; They’re all still humans and people with feelings, thoughts, and emotions. This is a hard thing to realize when you see stadiums full of people screaming at Harry Styles (Boom! found a male perfect in this scatterbrain) or hundreds of paparazzi lined up to take photos of every person on a red carpet wearing clothing that costs as much as my student loan debt (Which sidenote, is VERYYYYYY much). It’s hard to fully realize that maybe some of those people who became ‘icons’ never really knew what they were getting into when they signed that deal with the Devil to make them seemingly immortal; especially in a world with the internet where everything can exist forever (or until the world explodes, clearly). But maybe getting into my 30s and removing myself from most social media outlets, even listening to the news, or caring about whatever fucking popular haircut was in this season (it’s always bangs, and I’ve already made that mistake. No thanks), that I learned to realize - the truly most important people in your life are the ones that stick with you when it’s tough. When getting out of bed is so hard your limbs ache and you cry every morning on your way to work, at your desk behind your computer screen hidden in a corner, or in a bathroom stall during your lunch break. The normalcy that comes with realizing your prayers to ‘just make it to five o’clock,’ are heard and that you are just so thankful for that that you don’t even desire the innate feeling in most of our egos to stand out, be seen, ‘Make it’ in a way that lets people notice we ‘succeeded.’ Maybe this only comes with the realization of how nice it is to go to a grocery store braless and unnoticed.

Maybe this is also something I, and so many of us in this point and shoot viral world, are trying to still learn.

Sure, a lot of days I still crave being able to make a perfect Pintrest project, practice my Late Night interview with Letterman where I sound funny, charming, and likeable to all walks of life, or recreate a recipe from the New York Times website so great that The Barefoot Contessa finds out through word of mouth, and comes to my basement hide out, and offers to give me, a fellow barefoot loving bitch, her title and crown along with a glass of wine and a kiss from her husband, Jeffery. We’ll both laugh at how lovely it feels to be Barefoot ladies who understand that wanting ‘fame’ or ‘recognition’ in your twenties is only really a pathway to destruction by your 30s.

And this is not exactly something that I learned easy. In fact, I spent most of my twenties destroying my body with drugs - plenty of hard ones - and alcohol - various kinds of the same things - in order to numb my brain from the sadness that is just... being young, lonely, scared, unsure of yourself, and nervous that all of your hopes and expectations for yourself in your ‘dream life’ are too much for what you and your actual self will ever be capable of ever becoming. That I would never become the comedian I dreamed of being, or sing the perfect song in front of a crowd of admirers, or write that best selling book to tell everyone who thought I was nothing they could go fuck themselves. It’s something I still have to remind myself, and my brain and ego, that are most likely things I will never do because those are lottery dreams. And people you know don’t actually win the lottery. And at the end of the day, I am people you know. And sometimes it breaks my own heart to realize I may never feel that rush of making a crowd laugh, or creating a piece of art that makes someone feel seen, but as Pam, from The Office said, and I am paraphrasing, ‘there is beauty in ordinary things.’ And I think reminding myself of that as I sat on the beach this summer and watched a dad teach his son to surf, and how happy they both were when he got up, gave me that brief feeling of... being okay. I won’t lie, I did cry a little at this realization at that moment, and I am slightly teary now as I write it, but I think I’m not ashamed of that because being normal means I get to feel things as I do, in that moment, and that is something I think I lacked in my desiring-bigger-flashier- twenties; actually being present in the world and your place in it. Even if that is just as small as being kind to a random person on the street.

I think that is why everything I felt I wanted to write never came out correct. It never came out ‘Perfect.’ And that was my problem for most of my life, even up until today, I’m afraid that I am a perfectionist in the ways that are preventing me from becoming... me. I’m still fearful that I am too late in ever ‘accomplishing’ anything I ever dreamed. I doubt I will ever actually write a book. I’m unsure I’ll ever make a decent living. I am beyond doubtful I am ever going to be loveable to someone whom I also want to love back. And maybe I’m a little scared that I’ll never have a kid, or that if I do have a kid, I’ll never be a decent parent. And I’m still working on breaking the cycle of thinking something has to ‘sound’ or ‘be seen as important’ to be meaningful. There is beauty in the ordinary. I’ve started to make it my mantra. Spoken in my head every time I see a teenage couple holding hands walking in town, a father holding their baby close to his chest, a woman dressed in a power suit striding through an office building or city on their way to make their own careers or push equality further. I’ve started to dream of how actual normalcy makes the real changes. How every 4th grade teacher has a chance to change some kids life.

Clearly, a lot of these personal fears I have about myself not being ‘enough,’ or doing something good enough to become successful at it and build a life out of it, are monotonous fears and privileged middle-class complaints. I’m aware they may not resonate with anyone, anything, or mean much more than just being an online public diary entry to my own meandering thoughts, but, still - I finally felt like I had to try.

So here it is, the whole truth on how I let myself become a ghost for years.

I hope someone will stick around while I just... try to explain it all, figure it all out, and hopefully make sense out of even being whatever a human who is hoping to grow even means. Hopefully, something here will resonate with someone else and we can create our own little weirdo corner of the world where we’re not seeking more than just trying to be honest with ourselves and what it means to be human. Even if that means just posting a recipe for banana bread (thank you Gwen Steffani for keeping me able to spell Banana), reposting random memes about how we all want to scream for 30 seconds and feel better, or sad-girl diary entry posts about how I ruined my own life a million times over. Oh, and maybe I’ll give you tips on how to stain your wood deck, because I spent my day doing that yesterday and basically, Home Depot is calling me to be in their ADs.

But at the core of it all, lets be very real, it’s hard to be human in so many ways. And I’m just hoping this connects with anyone. Especially any of us who wished we were different - in any way.

xoxo

-K

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theanarik · 4 years ago

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Day 11: Red

Happy SasuHina Month, everybody! It’s day 11 already! This one can be read with the one coming for day 14.

TW: there is depictions of blood. Also, an inapropriate relationship between Hinata and an OMC who's a lot older than her. This author does not condone that.

Also, 110 is the emergency number in Japan according to Google.

Day 11: Ruby Wine Stained Her Lips (my original thoughts were about poison but couldn’t find anything about that for my research)

Red

You can aso read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24673345

When Hinata was little, she used to play with her little sister. She was a toddler at the time, couldn’t be older than two, and they had lots of fun together, chasing each other around in the gardens. Sometimes, their cousin, Neji, would come to play with them, but most of the time he would just sit down and supervise them.

Hinata was a happy girl.

Then, one afternoon, she arrived from school and found all her family in the living room. That wasn’t all that uncommon, but most of the time these meetings happened over dinner. Her mother grabbed her arm, and she realized that they were not alone. In front of them there were ten men – she counted them –, dressed all impeccably, but had guns on their hands. A minute later, they were firing.

She woke up in a deafening silence. Something – someone – was on top of her, and the house was almost dark. She pushed the body off of her and stood up. It wasn’t dark enough for her to tell that there were a lot of people on the floor and she started crying. Blindly, she looked for the light switch, and when the house became alive again, she realized that her whole family had been killed.

The pool of red, red blood reaching the piano a few meters away.

Hinata went body after body, trying to wake them up just like she did, but none of them responded. Her cousin’s back turned and full of holes as he tried, in vain, to protect her little sister. Numbly, she grabbed the phone and called 110. She laid on the floor, in a fetal position, trembling and crying. When the police officers arrived, they started recognizing the scene and one of them came to her, sat down and stayed there until she recovered enough to sit down herself. She looked up at the man, he was kind-looking, had long hair and eyes as dark as the night outside.

“Hey, my name is Itachi,” he said with a gentle, soft voice. “What’s your name?”

Hinata took a second to register the words and looked down again. “Hi-Hinata…”

“Alright, Hinata, were you the one who called to the station?”

“Y-yes.”

“Okay, how about we wrap you in a blanket and we head back to the station, then?”

“No!” Hinata yelled, eyes panicked. “My s-sister, I-I can’t leave her.”

“Hinata,” Itachi started, “you are a very brave girl, but I need you to be brave for her too, okay?”

Hinata looked directly into his eyes, open and understanding, and she turned to look at the other policemen that were marking everything on the floor.

“S-she…” she looks at Itachi again. “S-she wasn’t breathing.” Hinata felt a tremor go down her spine, and she started crying again.

“Shhh,” Itachi shushed her, ruffling her hair. “Let’s go outside, okay?” he stood up, offered his hand and Hinata took it as she sobbed.

As she grew up, Hinata became distant of every single person she met before the murder of her family. The only people she kept constantly in touch with was Itachi, and his little brother Sasuke. Although there were times where she didn’t say a word to either of them for months.

Hinata finds Sasuke again in a coffee shop, almost six months after she communicated last. Her hair is short, her lips are blood red, and she looks slightly out of place. Sasuke’s sitting with two other people, a blond man and a pink-haired woman. It takes him a moment to recognize her, but immediately after he does, he stands up as fast as lightning, previous conversation forgotten.

“Hinata!” he says, and she turns around slowly. Her coldness becomes surprise, and her surprise becomes warmth.

“Sasuke!” She leaves the coffee line taking a step to the side and collapses against his arms.

“It’s been years since the last time I saw you. Almost didn’t recognize you. You have contacts on.”

“Yeah, well, I can say the same! Look at you, you’re all big now!”

“Shut up.” Sasuke says smirking at her. A moment later, Hinata becomes collected again, her features turning solemn.

“Follow my lead.” She whispers, and then an old man enters the coffee shop. “Honey!” she says, and she flies herself to the man’s side. Sasuke can see the minute way her body tenses as he kisses her on the mouth. He frowns. “Sweetie, this is Daisuke. He’s one of my childhood friends!”

Her voice sounds fake, her posture is too rigid, and her green eyes are hard. Not for nothing, Sasuke is the brother of a cop.

“Hello,” he introduces himself.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet a friend of my Hikari,” Sasuke refrains himself from raising his eyebrows as he very pointedly keeps his eyes on the man. “She always talks so little about her past.”

“Oh, sweetie, you know it’s because nothing else matters before I met you.”

Yeah, that gives him a heads up that he should stay quiet and analyze what’s happening here. Hinata would never ever talk about her family like that, change her or his name and also the color of her eyes. There is something going on here and Sasuke will find a way to find out.

“Dai, let us buy you a coffee, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other!” Hinata says, enthusiastically, “Can we, love? Can we?”

“Of course, how could I say no to my little light.” He pecks her in the lips, her red lipstick already smothered, and Sasuke feels his stomach churn.

Gross. What the hell is going on here?

Hinata disentangles herself from the man, and they both wait until she comes back from the coffee line in silence. Sasuke adventures himself and catches a look from Naruto and Sakura, and he shrugs minutely, like he’s just as lost as they are. Hinata comes back a few minutes later with three cups. He handles him his and then gives another one to the man.

“Ah, wait!” she says, before he starts drinking. “We’re forgetting your medicine.” And then she checks out her purse, takes a bottle of pills, opens it, and gives the man a blue and red pill. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

“What would I do without you,” he says, as he takes the pill and downs his coffee.

Hinata eyes him for a second and signals him with her eyes that he should take a look at his cup. Sasuke lowers his eyes and catches black ink popping from below his hand and turns the cup a little bit so the man doesn’t see it. She sighs relieved.

“Well, we should get going,” Hinata says, putting the pill bottle inside the bag and grabbing the man’s arm. “Dai, it was so good seeing you again.”

“You too,” Sasuke answers, unable to call her by any name.

As they get out, Hinata turns slightly and mouths Thank you at him. Sasuke nods and goes back to his seat.

“Who was that?” Sakura asks, interest in her tone.

“Just an old friend.”

“You have friends other than us?” Naruto asks mockingly and Sasuke rolls his eyes.

“Well, she left you a really big note.” Sakura points to the cup with her index finger and Sasuke lowers his gaze. There is, indeed, a note written in black sharpie.

Sasuke.

I know this is weird, I can’t really explain anything right now, but believe me when I tell you this:

I’m safe. I’m okay. Everything that’s happening is because I want it happening.

I cannot tell you anything else, and probably won’t tell you ever.

Trust me, please.

Text me.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Sasuke can’t really believe that Hinata wants a man that probably triples her age kissing her, touching her, or even calling her love, not after seeing her tense up every time he did so.

He’s going to find out what’s going on, and he will not rest until he does.

You can aso read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24673345

#SasuHinaMonth2020 #sasuhina #TW #day 11 #ruby red stained her lips

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usertoxicyaoi · 4 years ago

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What do you feel when you're praying?

hiiii anon!! oooooh. this is a really lovely question.

so, as muslims, we have different types of praying, like supplication or remembering Allah and the prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) through specific phrases, or reciting the Qur'aan. the most common one is the compulsory salah (we have non compulsory forms of it too such as praying salah when you're in desperate times of need or when entering the masjid [mosque] etc). we pray the compulsory prayer 5 times a day, at different time points. each prayer has different lengths, that we measure as raka'ats (units), so they take different lengths of time to pray:

fajr - the just before sunrise prayer. (4 units long).

dhuhr - the afternoon prayer. (12 units long).

asr - the late afternoon prayer. (8 units long).

maghrib - the sunset prayer. (7 units long).

isha - the night prayer. (17 units long).

so, depending on what time of the day it is, i feel different things. my favourite prayer is fajr. and thats simply bc i feel the most amount of peace at that time, bc everyone else is asleep and everything around me is so still and quiet and dark, and i feel my absolute vulnerable then, bc i can cry all i want and no one else apart from Allah knows. and after i finish praying, my heart and my entire body just feels so light? and i can see the sun come up and the sky change colour and hear the birds and its just ... an absolutely spiritual, divine moment. i feel so so so connected with Allah in that moment.

with the rest of the salahs, they become a reprieve from the day for me. its time that i set aside to constantly go back to Allah, take a break, and thank Him for everything He has given me. i feel humbled when i do sujood (where i am literally prostrating on the floor in front of Him). i remember how my entire existence is dependent upon Him and His command.

but i also feel such a sense of unity too with my other muslim brothers and sisters, even tho im praying by myself. bc when muslims pray, we pray facing the qiblah, the direction of the Kabah. and so even when i pray alone, i know that someone somewhere out there in the world is also praying their salah too at the same time as me, regardless of timezones. theres a real sense of community and unity in that. also, when you pray salah alone, the prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said that angels are praying on your left and right and behind you. so you're never really praying alone. your surrounded by angels.

and i think the entire ritual and act is marked so sacredly, when you hear the Adhan (call to prayer). so you just stop whatever you're doing, make ablution and go and pray. it really helps to just break your day down, and to go and speak to Allah, and communicate with Him, with all your burdens and anxieties. whats beautiful is that in salah, you're praising Him and thanking Him with sacred words, you dont even need to voice out your burdens and anxieties, bc Allah already knows whats in your heart.

and i cry so easily in salah. i think its always helpful to understand the words you pray, and bc i learnt exactly what i pray, the impact is 10 times harder. bc i know i sin, and i know i'm not good and i know i'm imperfect, and yet i'm talking to my Creator and praising and thanking Him bc i'm not worthy, not one bit, and i have no shame in acknowledging that, and yet He accepts me and my imperfections and shortcomings, present even in my acts of worship to Him too, and He sees me try and He gives and gives and gives to me from His mercy and love and bounty and forgiveness. i feel so so seen, despite however small and worthless i feel, bc here He is giving me 5 whole opportunities to go and speak to Him, every single day, scattered throughout the day, so i never feel alone. and i come out of that conversation with so much restored hope and faith and calmness.

and then when i read or listen to the qur'aan being recited? thats just. theres nothing like it. it moves and grounds me. theres so much to learn from it, so many stories and so much history and so much about what has happened and what will happen and so much description and its like a medicine to heal the soul. and when you understand what you read via translation, though it can never do full justice to the arabic text and language, still, theres so much insight and wisdom. yesterday i found this amazing video about why the qur'aan is a linguistic miracle from Allah, and, the more you learn about it, the more deeper your understanding and appreciation becomes.

so yeah, praying just. it refreshes and rejuvenates. it recalibrates and reinvigorates. it grounds and steadies me. i feel humble and peaceful yet hopeful and light hearted. its just ... a very spiritual experience, bc each action that i do in salah means something, whether thats me on the floor prostrating in front of Allah, laying down my pride or ego, or raising my hands to say Allahuakbar and folding them on my chest as a symbol to show that i'm pushing the world away and ive entered my conversation with Allah, or whether thats turning my face to the right and then the left and saying asaalaamualaikum warahmatullah to show ive ended my salah and conversation with Allah and i'm saying "may peace be upon you and the mercy of Allah" to whoever or whichever creation of Allah is around me (including the angels!) and i'm engaging back with the world again. each action signifies something and means something within that communication i have with Allah through prayer.

#faiza answers #aaaaaah anon i loved this question ty so much for sending it!! 🧡🧡🧡

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rachelkaser · 4 years ago

Text

Stay Golden Sunday: The Custody Battle

Dorothy’s sister Gloria arrives and wants Sophia to come live with her. Rose and Blanche clash over a production of Macbeth.

Picture It...

Dorothy and Sophia are tidying ahead of the arrival of Gloria, Sophia’s other daughter and Dorothy’s little sister. Sophia subtly needles Dorothy for not having a date -- and fortuitously, Blanche enters and asks to borrow Dorothy’s jewelry for her own date. She’s going on a date with the director of the local community theater, who she’s hoping will soon cast her as Lady Macbeth. Sophia continues to nag Dorothy for not having a date. Dorothy gets angry at Sophia for her meddling, and demands space. Sophia leaves in a huff.

The next morning, Blanche is confident her tete-a-tete with the director will get her the part, though she and Rose are still going to the audition. Dorothy and Sophia are still annoyed at each other, but put it aside when Gloria arrives. Gloria, a wealthy widow, gives her mother and sister fabulous gifts. When Sophia guilts her over staying in a hotel, Dorothy offers to let Gloria share her (Dorothy’s) room.

DOROTHY: Hi! How was the audition? BLANCHE: Wonderful! I’m 99% sure I got the part. ROSE: Oh Blanche, there were so many good people there. BLANCHE: Trust me, I got this part in the sack. ROSE: She means in the bag. DOROTHY: No honey, she means in the sack.

That night, as Sophia and Gloria are out shopping, Blanche comes back from the audition convinced she got the part. She and Rose ask about Gloria’s relationship with Dorothy, and Dorothy confesses she’s always felt her parents favored Gloria. Blanche relates how she felt the same way about her parents and her sisters. Rose exposits about her idyllic family life, annoying the other girls enough that Blanche lets the kitchen door slam in her face.

Gloria and Dorothy settle down in bed together, with Gloria asking if Dorothy resents her for having money, a happy marriage and successful children -- none of which Dorothy has (and gee, nice of you to point it out, Gloria). Dorothy says she has grown beyond such sibling rivalry. Gloria continues to go on about her palatial home in California. Dorothy says she and Sophia would love to come out for a visit, and Gloria finally drops the bomb: She wants Sophia to come live with her, and Sophia agreed.

GLORIA: This reminds me of when we were little and you used to read me bedtime stories. DOROTHY: Oh yeah, yeah... the Bogeyman and the Little Girl... the Zombie in the Hamper... Cannibal Parents. I think between the ages of 5 and 7 you might have gotten two hours’ sleep.

Dorothy talks to Sophia about her plan to live with Gloria. Sophia avoids talking about what she wants, and says this way she can give Dorothy space. Dorothy doesn’t try to dissuade her, saying Gloria can give her a better life. Sophia looks very uncertain when Dorothy leaves.

In the kitchen, both Rose and Dorothy deliver bad news to Blanche. Rose says Blanche was cast as Witch #3, and Rose got the part of Lady Macbeth. Dorothy tells both that Sophia is leaving, and they’re heartbroken, insisting that they don’t want Sophia to leave. Dorothy forbids them from guilting Sophia, and leaves. Rose offers to let Blanche fill in for her as Lady Macbeth, but Blanche demurs gracefully.

BLANCHE: Well Rose, isn’t that sweet? And I do love you for it, honey, but I just couldn’t. I could never fit this trim little body in that big old tent of a dress they’re going to have to make for you.

After avoiding it for a few hours, Dorothy gives in and confronts Gloria, telling her it’s not fair of her to steal Sophia away when she’s already the favorite. Gloria reveals that she thinks Dorothy is the favorite, because Sophia respected and trusted her and constantly pointed out how much smarter and self-reliant she was to Gloria. Gloria admits she’s envious of how happy Dorothy’s life is compared with hers, and she wanted part of that. She says she knows Sophia doesn’t want to leave, and Dorothy goes to talk to their mother.

Dorothy demands that Sophia stay, and Sophia at first refuses but then agrees. She says she and Dorothy both need a little space from each other occasionally, but she’ll stay and look after the Girls. She breaks the news to Gloria, who understands. Sophia says she’s happy that both of her daughters love her and want her around so much.

SOPHIA: I love you. I love all my children. GLORIA: Even Phil? SOPHIA: Sure -- but don’t tell him, he’ll want to borrow money.

Later that night, the Girls are ecstatic that Sophia isn’t leaving. She brings them presents she was planning to give them when she thought she was moving. They open the presents and discover their own things, which Sophia purloined. After she leaves the kitchen, they wonder what else she might have taken and go to search her room. Rose cautiously exits last, worried about the door slamming in her face again.

“I think all my children are special... except Phil.”

I’ll be honest, there’s a reason for the gap between this review and the last one. Sure, Christmas and New Years (not to mention a busted keyboard) shifted my priorities a bit, but were this almost any other episode, I would have still gotten it out no matter what else was going on. But the truth is, I didn’t allot the necessary time to analyze this episode because... well, I didn’t want to. Because this episode is just not very good.

Remember when I said that Golden Girls had no truly bad episodes, but there were some that were noticeably lower-rung than others? This wasn’t the episode I had in mind when I said that (I’ll tell you which episode was when we get to it), but this is still a pretty good example of what I mean. It’s not particularly funny, has no meaningful message, doesn’t involve any character growth, and is confusingly written.

SOPHIA: I should have known you couldn’t make it without me. DOROTHY: You’re right, I can’t. And neither can Blanche. And neither can Rose. SOPHIA: Of course not Rose. The woman can hardly find her way to work!

I’d never given it much thought before I had to pick it apart for this blog. Now that I’ve watched it with a necessarily discerning eye, I couldn’t help but get this weird sense of flatness. Not badness, per se, just a total lack of good distinguishing features.

For example, I usually insert one of my favorite one-liners as the header text above my analysis section, and I had to really pick apart this episode to come up with any single line that gave me a little smile. That’s not to say that there aren’t funny exchanges in this episode, but no Girl is given a single stand-out line that’s still funny, divorced from context. I’m using an “except Phil” line because this is the first time we see Sophia use it as more of a catchphrase.

I don’t have any behind-the-scenes material that might explain why the episode feels so lacking. Maybe it’s because this is Terry Hughes’ first episode as director? There are definitely places where the script doesn’t feel nearly as tight as it could be -- the several minutes Rose spends reminiscing about her happy childhood don’t really do much besides fill time, except maybe set up for the “kitchen door face slam” gag.

ROSE: *reminiscing about her saccharine family Christmases* And then Daddy would tell us a story, and tuck us into our feather-- DOROTHY: Who was your father, Rose? Michael Landon?

If I had to put this down to a single element, I think it’d be the portrayal of Gloria. Sisterly rivalry is a recurring theme in this show . . . seriously, none of the Girls have good relationships with their sisters. We saw this already with Blanche and Virginia, but Dorothy and Gloria provide a slightly different take on it. Whereas Virginia and Blanche have been clashing their whole lives and are only just now starting to reconcile, Dorothy and Gloria have a warm and loving relationship with unaddressed resentment beneath the surface.

The difference is, Virginia gave the impression of being a three-dimensional character. There were subtleties to her, such as her inability to keep from rising to Blanche’s bait no matter how much she claimed to want a more peaceful relationship. That just doesn’t exist with Gloria, or at least not Gloria as she exists in this episode.

In fact, the writers don’t seem to have a clue what to do with Gloria. She’s explicitly stated to be distant from her mother and sister, never inviting them to her home in California and only calling three times a year and yet wants her mother to move in with her. She’s sometimes obliviously insensitive, and yet has enough self-awareness to shoot holes in Dorothy’s insecurities.

I’m not sure if I like the fact that the resolution of the rivalry is Gloria saying, “Actually, I’m envious of you and want part of your happiness for myself,” as opposed to, “I, too, wish to spend some of my mother’s last years with her.” It just doesn’t seem realistic that Gloria’s desire to spend time with Sophia is rooted in her feelings towards Dorothy. It seems more like the ending to a revenge fantasy than a proper wrap-up of the story.

BLANCHE: Now, when were little, every year my sisters had huge parties. With clowns and magicians and tons of presents. DOROTHY: And you didn’t? BLANCHE: Well not exactly. I mean, I did have parties and I had presents but... I never had a clown. *smiles* Not until I was... BLANCHE & DOROTHY: Much older.

It doesn’t help that the B-plot is a little undercooked. Blanche’s extreme desire for a part in “Mister William Shakespeare’s masterpiece” is funny enough, especially since she thinks her sexual performance is an adequate substitute for theatrical performance -- I mean, she’s Blanche. She probably thinks her sexual performance is enough to eclipse all other forms of performance anywhere, ever.

But what I don’t get about it is how Rose managed to snag the part of Lady Macbeth despite not wanting it. Granted, it’s been a long time since my community theater days, but I think you generally have to say which parts you’re auditioning for before you audition, so the director doesn’t cast someone who can’t commit the time to a big role. I could be wrong about that, though. I get that Rose not expressing any of her own interest in the play makes it extra funny when she actually gets the part, but it’s still a little confusing to me.

Still, I don’t want to end the review on a sour note, so I’ll say this: There’s not much in the way of a moral or character growth in this episode, but there is something to be said for Dorothy and Sophia coming to the conclusion that too much togetherness isn’t good for them. Given that we’re now going on a year in pandemic lockdown, I can’t help but think that’ll resonate with some of us.

Episode rating: 🍰🍰 (two cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite Part of the Episode:

The exchange between Rose and Blanche over the casting of Lady Macbeth, culminating in Blanche brandishing a kitchen knife in the most darkly funny way possible:

#stay golden #golden girls #stay golden sunday #dorothy zbornak #rose nylund #sophia petrillo #blanche devereaux #macbeth #picture it #s01e12 #except phil

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