#when the unrequited love is so fucking requited it’s ridiculous

[roosterbox]

Heyyyyy how about another Steddie thinky thought? You know ‘em, you love ‘em!

This one’s theme: Hanahaki. Yes, the Flower Sickness that makes any unrequited love as actually physically deadly as it feels.

This one’s a bit older than the rest. I posted tiny bits on the discord a while back, and may in fact eventually expand it into an actual story, but for now, this.

Also under a cut because, yet again, my hand slipped, lol. Warnings for, uh, more Steve pain I guess. Sorry about that. Kind of.

Hanahaki AU

Steve loves Eddie. But Eddie doesn’t love Steve (or so Steve thinks…). He has resigned himself to this, to just being friends. Good friends. The only person he tells is Robin, who encourages him but is sympathetic. He gets the Flower Cough. Which grows (heh) increasingly worse as time goes on. And Robin gets even more insistent that he tells Eddie. So eventually Steve just… gives her a half truth/half lie.

He tells her, “Eddie’s not interested in me.” Half a lie, because she takes this to mean that he actually DID talk to Eddie and got rebuffed (he did not). But it’s also half a truth, because that’s what Steve truly believes - that Eddie wouldn’t be interested. No way, why would he? Pick your favorite flavor of Steve Harrington insecurity and insert here.

Eddie, meanwhile, is more than a little distraught. Everyone knows Steve has the Flower Sickness, but every time anyone asks about who it is, he waves them off with “they’re not interested.” And this blows Eddie’s mind because he’s been madly in love with Steve for years now, so how could anyone with half a brain or heart turn him down? In Eddie’s eyes, Steve is perfect.

The sickness gets worse. Steve ends up in the hospital. Everyone is there, waiting on the doctor’s word for when they can go in to see him. Eddie rushes in, scared and sick to his stomach, afraid that this is it. And at the sight of him looking so forlorn, even though (she thinks) he’s the one who caused this, Robin finally explodes.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Munson!”

Eddie, of course, is absolutely clueless. “What the fuck?”

“You think you can- fuck!” She’s angry, she’s stressed, she’s heartbroken, she’s distraught. There are tears streaming down her face. And for a moment, Eddie’s never felt so intimidated. “How can you just show up here like this?”

“Like what? Birdie, can you please start making more sense, because I am at a fucking loss here.”

She gears up for a verbal beatdown the likes of which have never been witnessed before, but then a nurse comes out. Tells them that Steve is okay (relatively speaking of course), and that they’re just making him comfortable now. And that she’ll be back out with the doctor soon to talk about visiting. This update deflates some of Robin’s bluster, and she sinks down into one of the chairs.

Eddie is still confused, but slightly relieved that Steve is alright. For now.

Under his breath he laments, “god, I wish it were me.”

It’s so quiet, but Robin hears him. Of course she does.

“Wait, what?”

He startles, surprised at being heard, and maybe a little nervous about speaking something so close to his heart in front of this ragtag group of people. But, he tells himself, they all love Steve here. So maybe… maybe it’s time to be brave.

“I wish it was me. The person who…” he gestures vaguely. “For Steve. If it was me, this might not-“ He swallows, hard, and looks away. His eyes sting but he’s not gonna cry, dammit.

Robin is just. Staring at him, eyes wide. “Eddie. What do you mean?”

It takes a moment, but he finally looks back at her.

“If it were me this wouldn’t have happened. Because I love him. I love him so fucking much, Birdie. And when I find whoever it was that broke his heart, I’m gonna-“ he clenches his fist. Clenches and unclenches. Perhaps unable to quite articulate the truest depths of his feelings.

Robin, to yet more of his surprise, bursts into fresh tears.

“You are both. Such. IDIOTS.” But before he can ask, again, what the fuck she means, she says, “it’s YOU.”

Eddie’s brain just fucking STOPS. Crashes. Like a freight train with a girder dropped in its track. “Me? What about me?”

“You, you idiot.” She’s up now, crying and shoving at him. But they’re half-hearted at best. And… is she smiling a little? “You, you, you! He loves you too.”

“Loves… me? Rob, you’re not making sense again.”

So she tells him. Everything. Perhaps breaking Steve’s confidence in the process, but if this miscommunication were to cost her best friend - her platonic soulmate - his life? That’s a small price to pay, she reasons. By the end of it, Eddie’s lost his battle against his tears. Dustin is hugging him as he babbles out, “but why would he- How could he think- I wouldn’t have let him-“

The nurse and doctor appear, taking in the scene, but not knowing the finer details of course. They tell the group that they can see him, but only one at a time. “For now,” they emphasize, with small, encouraging smiles.

Through a silent exchange, Robin is selected to go in first.

Steve is sitting up against the pillows of the hospital bed. There are various lines and monitors attached to him. Beeping at a steady, if not quite normal, level. He’s awake, and smiles a bit weakly at her when he sees her.

“Robbie.”

She smiles back.

“Hey dingus. How’re you feeling?” She sits down on the bed and reaches out, pushing the hair out of his face. It’s damp, soaked through with sweat, but she doesn’t mind.

“I’m f-“

“Don’t say you’re fine,” she cuts him off. Gently. Still touching him. Her hand drops to his shoulder and squeezes. “Not after this.”

They look at each other, an entire silent conversation passing between, before Steve sighs. The deep breath causes him to cough a little, but nothing comes up this time.

“Okay. I’m not fine. But Robin-“

She shakes her head. “I love you, you know?”

“I love you, too,” he replies almost automatically. Because he does.

“And,” she gets up, “because I love you, I hope you can forgive me.”

Steve’s expression turns confused. And a bit worried. “Forgive…?”

She backs up. Towards the door. “I’ll be back in a little while. But for now, I think there’s someone else who you should talk to. And who needs to talk to you.” At that, her gaze hardens. “And you better actually talk this time.”

She leaves, and Steve is alone again. He has a minute or two to be terribly confused before the door opens.

Oh fuck, it’s Eddie.

Eddie, who only glances at Steve as he comes in before pointedly looking away. He leans against the door, arms wrapped around himself. It’s the quietest he’s ever been, for as long as Steve’s known him. It’s unnerving.

“Eddie?” Steve asks. “Are you…?” He trails off, unsure of what, exactly, he was trying to ask.

Eddie says nothing. But then-

“You’re a real piece of work, Harrington, you know that?” He sounds angry. Maybe even livid. His voice is practically vibrating with it. Steve focuses on that, missing the undercurrent of tears in the words. For him, this is exactly what he thought would happen. She must have told him. Of course she would. And though he wanted to be mad, he couldn’t blame her at all. If, god forbid, their positions were reversed…

Eddie was talking again. “So you, what, rather die? Rather die than just, oh jeez, fucking say something to me?”

Steve wishes the bed would swallow him whole. He looks down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting. Picking at threads in the linen. His heart monitor had picked up a bit.

Eddie was slowly inching forward until he was right next to the bed. His eyes were also drawn to Steve’s hands. At the IV line affixed to them. At the nails, bitten short. At the bloodstains still lingering against his skin.

“You stupid, self-sacrificing son of a bitch.”

Steve winced. This was it. The worst nightmare he’d had since everything with the Upside Down. Only it wasn’t a dream any more.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” he whispers. Sorry, he implies, for falling in love with you. It’s okay that you don’t-

“Sorry? Steve you’re-“ Eddie chokes a bit. He sniffles. Steve finally hears the other underlying emotions his friend is struggling with. Is he… crying?

He absolutely is, and wiping furiously at his eyes. Part of him wants to grab Steve by the shoulders, to shake him, to scream at him. To demand to know why. What were you thinking? But then again, he already knows, doesn’t he? Robin told him.

“Why,” he asks, “why would you ever think that I wouldn’t want you?”

Now it was Steve’s brain’s turn to just… stop.

Very slowly, quietly, he whispers out a “…what?”

Eddie’s hands are gripping the bed railing tightly. He itches, how he itches, to reach over and take the other man’s hands in his. To twine their fingers together. But if he does, he knows that he’ll never want to let go again if he can help it. So before that, he takes the scariest plunge of his life. Lover’s Lake has got nothing on this.

“Steve,” he says, their gazes finally meeting, “I love you. I fucking love you, you idiot.”

Steve is shocked. Flabbergasted. Maybe this is a dream, he thinks. Or maybe I’ve finally fucking coughed myself to death. His mouth opens and closes soundlessly for a few seconds, minutes maybe, before finally, he manages to ask, “since when?” He swears he can actually feel the flowery vines in his lungs growing tighter.

Eddie smiles at him through watery eyes. “How long have I known you?”

Steve just fucking breaks. He cries, weeping into his hands, curling in on himself. Can’t breathe, he thinks desperately before strong arms wrap around him. Drawing him in against a solid chest. Eddie hugs him, tucking Steve’s wet face against his neck. He’s crying too.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” he says. “It’ll be okay now.” He hopes that this is true. That whatever fate may be, it doesn’t make him a liar. “I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

[hawkinsbnbg]

don’t wake me up before sunrise

prompts: make-up sex, service dom, pillow princess | @steddiesmuttyseptember

tags: misunderstanding, light angst, mutual pining, requited unrequited love, ex-fwb to lovers, obsessive behavior, possessive sex, daddy kink, feminization, panties, smitten Eddie Munson, babygirl Steve Harrington.

word count: 2k | rated: E | ao3

Shit, this was bad. Steve stared at the man sitting by the bar and glanced around, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

This was really really bad. His mind repeated desperately, hysterically as he stood stock still in the middle of the ever-moving crowd like an idiot.

Because laughing and chatting with some twink was Eddie Munson—still all chains and leather, still looking good as ever with wild curls and artful tattoos, still making his heart run wild with just an upturn of those plump lips.

Then again, seeing Eddie in a BDSM club wasn't so much of a surprise. Given what he knew about the older man, it was Steve who should be more careful with where he chose to go.

Or he had been hoping, dreaming of stumbling onto Eddie on accident since they broke up— no, since they ended their little situationship (he had stupidly and naively thought he could make the older man stay for him, but turned out, he wasn't worth it).

He was self-destructive, obsessive, or whatever.

But now his wish was granted, Steve decided that his heart wasn't ready for it yet. And perhaps it would never be.

Turning away, he glanced down at his wristband and snorted. Funnily enough, Eddie was also the one having introduced him to this lifestyle and got him hooked for good.

Although Steve wouldn't be able to admit it aloud, he still hadn't met any doms who could measure up to Eddie.

What an irony. And how pathetic of him to be so hung up on the very man who wanted nothing to do with him, much less be his dom anymore.

"Sorry ladies, but I've gotta go," he announced to Robin and her date for the night—Chrissy—once he returned to their table empty-handed.

"You okay?" Robin grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly, sensing his panic even without words.

God, if he wasn't already tits over ass for Eddie and Robin wasn't so obsessed with boobies, he would've married her as soon as she graduated high school.

"I'm fine," he ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Just, uhm, saw a familiar face. So..."

"Alright, I'll make sure your car will make it back in one piece tomorrow," Robin plucked the key from his pocket and gave him a serious look. "Text me when you're home, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded, thankful that Robin didn't try to tell him to get over it.

Because she knew, understood the dilemma of catching feelings for someone you weren't allowed to.

Hers was Nancy Wheeler, and in his case, it was Eddie Munson.

———

As soon as Steve was out of the club, he ripped away his wristband—red for sub—and took out his phone to call himself a cab.

As he pondered if his self-pity party was worth a whole tube of ice cream and a bottle of vodka, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

"Steve."

Heart caught in his throat, he almost dropped to his knees on instinct, but he just froze like someone had pressed a pause button on him.

"Don't run," said the voice calmly as if it could fucking read his mind. Which, considering who it belonged to, should be possible.

And ridiculous. Because even after everything, it was so fucking unfair of him to still be able to read Steve like an open book.

And yet, Steve chose to listen, nonetheless.

Anxiously, he watched Eddie Munson step forward and stop before him, giving him a close-lipped smile

"Long time no see, Princess."

———

Steve didn't know what he was doing anymore. But it surely wasn't letting himself be pressed up against his apartment's door and kissed senseless.

They had been talking or rather, arguing. Steve could remember the thick tension, the lingering looks, the heated words that had been tossed carelessly back and forth like a tennis match between them.

("What are you doing here?"

"It's none of your business, Munson."

"Finding someone to put you into your place, babydoll?"

"Don't call me that."

"Or what? Didn't you tell me this lifestyle is too much for you? But now you're here. In a BDSM club."

"Jesus, you do know how to hold a grudge, don't you?"

"Were I not up to your standard, Harrington? What else did you want from me, huh?"

"You know that's not the problem, Munson."

"Then tell me what is it? 'Cause god forbids me from reading your fucking mind."

"Fine! I'll tell you. I wasn't being a bitch for shit and giggles, okay? I just wanted you to– I don't know, stop seeing your other subs when you started fucking me. Was it too much to ask?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't have any subs besides you at that time."

"Well, who was Andy then? He kept sending me pictures of you both!"

"Jesus, that bastard. I told him to stop doing that when we parted for good last time."

"... What?"

"Those pics were taken long before I met you. Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"How could I? You weren't my boyfriend, and you had made it perfectly clear to me that you don't do relationships."

"You want a relationship?"

"And what if I do then?")

Steve couldn't recall how the conversation had ended. He just knew they had remained silent all the way back to his apartment and then there he was, breathless and needy in Eddie's arms.

It was a testament of how bad he had it for the older man, because he didn't find himself doubting those words even once. Which wasn't wise in the slightest.

But since Steve had zero self-preservation, he decided to entrust Eddie with his battered heart again and hope for the best.

"Missed this," Eddie pecked his chin, his brow, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth.

"Missed what?" Steve tilted his head up, mouth slacked and eyes closed as his tongue was gnawed and sucked on.

"Your taste, your scent, your sounds," Eddie said huskily, lips trailing down his throat, hands tightening on his waist as if to prevent him from getting away even when it was impossible to do so with the door behind his back and Eddie flush on his front.

"Christ, even your moles are pretty. Such a pretty thing, aren't you?" Eddie murmured, nipping at his collarbone and leaving bruises behind. No doubt his skin would be covered in reds and purples once the night was over.

"You missed me?"

"How could I not?"

"Then why didn't you call?" Steve opened his eyes to see how close they were, to see the way Eddie shrugged lightly as if he was abashed.

"Thought you didn't want me," Eddie admitted quietly. "Thought you didn't want my freaky ass intruding on your life anymore. So I made myself sacred."

"Yeah, I found your ass freaky plenty," Steve whispered teasingly, fingers scratching the baby hair on Eddie's nape. "But I liked your brand of freakiness."

"Liked?"

"Still do, by the way," Steve felt his cheeks warm at the slow smirk that grew on Eddie's lips.

"So you don't hate me?"

"I never say that."

Steve's heart fluttered in his chest when Eddie crouched down to take off the shoes for him. Then, he let himself be led into his bedroom, let his clothes be stripped down, let his legs spread wide open for the beautiful man above him.

"Fuck," Eddie groaned, fingers tracing the little bow and the baby pink cotton reverently. "You still wear this, angel?"

"Mhm," Steve bit his lips, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable. "It's your gift, after all."

Eddie cursed again, but he sounded more upset about it. Aroused and irritated. A combination that would make Eddie a little mean, which Steve usually loved. But it didn't feel right this time.

Because Eddie looked genuinely remorseful and it pained Steve to see the older man so dejected.

"I missed you, too," he reached up to stroke the side of Eddie's face gently. "That's why I wear it tonight. Didn't want to replace you with anyone else, Daddy."

Eddie made a wounded noise, complicated emotions flashing across those handsome features, but all Steve could see was ineffable adoration.

Arching his back, he moaned loudly when Eddie wordlessly ducked down to suck one of his nipples while rolling the other between calloused fingers.

He had become extra sensitive ever since Eddie started playing with his chest months ago. And even once they parted, the training still stuck and would make Steve nearly cream his pants every time he wore his shirt too tight.

It was the same at the moment, and yet, the pressure wasn't enough for him to come.

Steve whined and tried to seek some friction for his dripping cock by rutting his hips into Eddie's, but failed miserably.

"My pretty pillow princess," Eddie chuckled and petted the tip of his cock that peeked out from the panties' waistband, glistening pink with precum. Filthy and obscene. "Can't do anything without your daddy, hm?"

Before Steve could beg for more, Eddie had beaten him to it and pulled the gusset of his panties aside to prep his hole with those musician’s fingers, somehow already lubricated and ringless without his notice.

"You know how much I missed your little cunt?" Eddie pinched his nipple while pumping relentlessly into his prostate, making him drool and shake like crazy. "How I dreamed of tasting your nectar every night? How I starved for it? So much that I refused to touch anyone ever since I walked out of here?"

How Eddie could make it sound so sweet and filthy was beyond him.

Steve couldn't stand it. He rolled his eyes back and dropped his mouth open in a silent scream, making a mess on his tummy and chest, fluttering and spasming wildly around those long fingers.

Lost to the blinding pleasure, he didn't notice Eddie had moved until he felt something hot breach his twitching hole, suddenly stretching him and spearing him in two.

It was too much, too soon, too big.

Three months wasn't a long time, but it sure felt like it when Steve had to relax as much as he could and breathe slowly to accommodate the size of Eddie, trembling minutely as the older man eventually hit home inside him.

Eddie didn't do any better, brows twisting in a grimace at the vice-like grip Steve had on him.

"Fuck, you're so tight, babygirl," Eddie reached down to stroke his slightly distended lower belly possessively, eyes dark and heavy with desire. "Tell Daddy who do you belong to?"

"You," Steve responded without hesitation, an answer that he knew by heart, always at the tip of his tongue every time Eddie looked at him like he meant something precious.

"Good girl," Eddie smiled sharply and snapped his hips, shocking a high-pitched noise out of him. "Say that again."

"I'm yours, Daddy," he obeyed before rolling his eyes back as the older man bent him in half and set up a brutal pace.

He wailed and sobbed, overwhelmed with how good he felt, babbling nonsense and holding onto Eddie for dear life as all of his breath was knocked away.

He didn't know how long had passed, he just remembered crying his throat hoarse as Eddie kept pounding into him, kissing his tears and apologizing to him over and over again for all the time that they had spent apart, fucking him harder when he began apologizing as well.

"Mine, mine, mine," Eddie chanted, hammering into his prostate mindlessly and wrenching strangled noises out of him. "Never let you go again. Gonna keep you, gonna love you even in death."

When another orgasm was wrung out of him once more, Steve was too far gone to panic over the potential of his love wasn't one-sided.

———

Steve woke up to warm hands massaging his sore muscles and hot lips tracing his body with wet kisses, pressing sweet promises into his skin and flesh.

Sighing softly, he closed his eyes and wished the dream would never end.

When Steve came to again, he checked his phone to see it was a little past midnight. After sending a text to Robin, telling her he was safely tucked in his bed, he turned around to find Eddie already watching him.

"You stayed," he observed quietly.

And let the older man tug him close, caressing him with unsaid words.

"Would you prefer me to leave?" Eddie took hold of his hand and pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, a silent pleading for forgiveness.

Steve pulled back, smiling fondly when it made Eddie's face fall, and surged up to meld their lips together.

"Stay," he said, firm and certain, knowing there was no need to doubt Eddie anymore when the man held him so tightly that it hurt, and yet, so tenderly as if fearing he would break like porcelain.

If this wasn't love, Steve didn't know what else it could be.

Brushing his hair back gently, Eddie cupped the back of his nape and murmured into his parted lips.

"Your wish is my command, Princess."

They smiled too much to deepen the kiss, but it didn't mean they would give up any time soon.

[mozukumi]

you've got me seeing (through different eyes)

The scariest thing about being possessed by Baron, Fabian realizes with hindsight, was how little his cognition needed to change to see Riz as his romance partner. The second scariest thing was probably the urge to brutally maim his dear friends or his complete loss of autonomy. Or maybe it was the ability to spin his head around like an owl? He hadn’t found the time to make a ranked list, yet. He’s been busy. He had to fight a bunch of enemies, escape a dream version of his friend’s haunted house, and then deal with the revelation that he’s totally in love with his best friend.

-

After Baron's Game, Fabian realizes some things about himself. 567 words, left ambiguous if the Fabriz is requited or unrequited. Read on AO3 or under the readmore.

The scariest thing about being possessed by Baron, Fabian realizes with hindsight, was how little his cognition needed to change to see Riz as his romance partner.

The second scariest thing was probably the urge to brutally maim his dear friends or his complete loss of autonomy. Or maybe it was the ability to spin his head around like an owl? He hadn’t found the time to make a ranked list, yet. He’s been busy. He had to fight a bunch of enemies, escape a dream version of his friend’s haunted house, and then deal with the revelation that he’s totally in love with his best friend.

Or maybe he isn’t. He can explain it away to himself, if he really tries. Tell himself that these emotions are just a residual side effect of the whole Baron thing. Perhaps if he talked to Adaine, she would tell him that she too was feeling the same way. Then they could laugh the whole thing off, and it’d become a funny story they all joke about for years to come, like Kristen and her ribbon-dancing.

…

But deep down, he knows that he’s just kidding himself.

When Baron possessed him, it wasn’t as if Fabian was kicked out of his head. It was more like he was a car, and Baron forced him out of the driver's seat and into the back. He was still along for the ride.

And to overextend this metaphor, Baron only needed to make a slight right turn to get Fabian’s mind onto Romance Partner Blvd - no extensive detours required.

When he attacked Adaine to defend Riz’s honor, it felt so natural. Well, not the Adaine part - getting there did require a longer psychological road trip from Baron. But protecting Riz, The Ball, His Ball -

It was as natural as breathing.

Looking back, he can see the signs. Special attention paid to him, extra time spent with him. And when a cute girl tried to kiss him, his first instinct was to call him. Get his advice. This isn’t new, Fabian has to admit. All Baron did was force him to see the possibility.

And now he’s scared shitless.

Because if he fucks this up and makes it awkward - it would ruin everything. If things got bad enough, it might even split the party. Not only would all of his friendships be fractured, but Riz - Fabian imagines him at Lord Salazar Edge's College of Lone Adventurers, and it breaks his heart.

Nonetheless, he can’t imagine not doing something about this. Now that he’s aware of this yearning, it feels nigh all-consuming. Anytime he sees Riz, his heart rate skyrockets and his mental faculties leave him. It’s ridiculous.

He has to act upon this.

Deep breath. He could do this. Definitely. He is going to woo The Ball - or at the very least, proposition romance in such a way that won’t end their friendship if he’s turned down. And it was going to be very easy, because he is suave and charming and Maximum Legend.

Sure, his only real romantic experience was a few bad make out sessions with Aelwyn and an ambiguous but tragic relationship with Ecaf. But it couldn’t be that hard, could it? He was a desirable young man. He would make a wonderful partner.

… at the very least, he’d be a much better partner than Baron. That was a start, wasn’t it?

[twopoppies]

So I’m confused about what your last anon is saying. They say:

“when you see Ks posts she’s on the left, (I’ve been to his show I’ve seen this) and when he sings “I love him” he would look up there nervously, the mountain of art about loving someone or wanting their love or an unrequited love (apparently she is separated but it could be about him too because you marry someone their love had been requited at some point)”

Are they saying that Louis is concerned what K will think by him mouthing those words? Because she still loves her husband? Or because she thinks L is saying those words as fan service and they think L is worried that K will think he is disrespecting relationship? I’m sorry but none of this makes sense to me.

None of it makes sense at all. I think they’re saying Louis is worried Krystle will be jealous he’s saying “I love him” because she wants Louis? Or because he’s now dating Krystle but pretending to be gay for fan service? I have no fucking idea but it’s all so ridiculous I just can’t.

In reference to this

[antimonasia]

Sandor Clegane x Reader Fic (Size Difference)

This is fic is not mine, but of @hightowhxre, who's blog I cannot access anymore

"𝐼 𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝑒𝓉 (𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹)"

lyrics from 'Midnight Rain' by Taylor Swift

(A/N): hello there lovely,

first of all, thank you for sending this request and I hope I was able to make good of it, as I am a bit rusty in writing smutty, but this was funny; also I hope you didn't mind that I combined this with another request I received!

“i don’t care, to me you’re perfect!” w/ sandor clegane?

(also very funny story: me at sixteen reading over and over Sansa's chapters to read about Sandor 'oh I hoe this doesn't awaken something in me'

me now at twenty-four with a thing for older men with a gruffy exterior and trauma 'oh fuck, it did').

as always: any feedback is welcomed.

WARNINGS: attempted sexual assault (not Sandor), fem! reader is mute (there are still consent checks because it is as it should be but they aren't verbal), slight mention of emotional manipulation (not Sandor), slight angst (cheating but they aren't together, so more like believed unrequited love, but it is very requited the fucker is just a self-pitying idiot), oral sex (female receiving), fingering, sex (p in v), dirty talk (and a lot of curses), slight degradation - praise kink, belly bulge and size kink.

They said that outcasts have a special nose for each other.

And maybe that was how you and the Hound ended up being so close, together.

You thought, the fact that he was dubbed the Hound, was quite ridiculous in all honesty as it made little to no sense to you to call him a dog, when he bore such little resemblance with the animal in question.

To you, he looked more like a brownish bear with his large stance and his imposing height.

And the terrible grunts he released as you met him the first time after you had been charged with the harsh and hated task of delivering to him his clean clothes.

It was almost a rite of consecration to the order of the servants at the Red Keep and you were the newest entry as you had come after the birth of princess Myrcella to help queen Cersei.

‘Knock on his door and be swift to leave the clothes or he’ll eat you alive’ some older laundry girl had scared youwhile the gentle cook that had taken you under her wing had reassured you that the Hound was all bark and no bite.

He certainly barked as you were stuck a moment too long, deep in your thoughts of that man eating small servants like.

You had promptly been awake as you shoved the clothes into his chest with enough strength – and probably surprise – to have the man back away.

‘Don’t tell me they sent a newbie’ he cursed as you lowered your head promptly ‘… don’t tell me girl that you were nervous to meet the old dog? Poor little dearie weren’t they cruel to send out such an unprepared lady?’.

You were mute – since birth – but even if you had had your voice, you wouldn’t have answered his taunting and not simply because he was indeed scary, but also because he ranked much higher than you and you didn’t intend to get into trouble with the crown who had just hired you.

‘Don’t you speak, girlie?’ his tone was growing restless as if he didn’t enjoy the lack of reaction that you were having ‘… don’t tell me that my ugliness has rendered you mute?’.

 It wasn’t the taunt that got you to reply but more the tint of sadness in his tone, as if he truly believed the jest, he spoke that got you to shake your head lightly, before pushing a finger to your throat and as much as he was criticized for being nothing but a dog, he understood promptly what you meant.

‘Oh’.

His face softened for a bit, and you could look a scar on the side of his face as you thought about how painful it had been to have such a huge memory of somebody’s cruelty.

His brother had the rumors been true.

‘… a little mute girl’.

The shiver that went down your spine wasn’t out of fear as you finally diverged your eyes away from his scar the moment that he finally made you aware that he didn’t appreciate such staring.

‘… at least you won’t speak to anybody of this, will you, girl?’.

At that it took everything in you not to raise an eyebrow in annoyance at him, and even in that case you didn’t succeed fully as a small smirk appeared on his face before he closed the door right in your face, his clothes in his arms and this strange sensation that warmed your chest.

When the girls back in the laundry asked you how scared you had been of the hound, you just shook your head and fell beside Ylenia, the cook, asking whether you could help with anything, as your mind seemed broken.

And the curse of the Hound seemed to continue the following day.

And the one after.

Whenever you’d be in a room together, you felt his amber eyes onto you and the moment that you’d turn to catch him in the act, he would be looking anywhere but you. although a pensive smirk was fixed onto his lips, as if this was a game between you.

A game that came to a halt the night that you thought yourself safe enough to walk through the Red Keep.

At night.

Alone.

You hadn’t been able to sleep, something about the full moon rendering you restless and if you weren’t wrong Ylenia would be in the kitchens, so you had thought to reach them and stand by her; had you been lucky, she’d have a cup of tea for you and some stale pastry from the days before.

You had noticed them following you the moment that you had taken a particularly swift turn, and you had just prayed it had been a coincidence.

But how could the gods hear you when your voice wasn’t there?

They got closer and closer.

But so did the kitchens.

Just a few steps and you’d be…

The taller guard caught onto your arm and turned you roughly enough to make you feel ditzy while the gaunter one pinned you against the wall by your other arm and the third one, a man with a stale breath of his own pushed himself between your legs.

“We were lucky, brothers” he spoke making you want to vomit as you tried to breathe through your mouth and not your nose, not to further inhale the toxic scent of his mouth “… a pretty one, ain’t she”.

“Ain’t she the mute girl?” you fought against the grip of the man that was holding you, but it held little solution to her problem as he was stronger than you “… she won’t be screaming for us”.

“Who cares about fucking screams?!”.

The first one relented his grip onto your arm the moment that the one with the smelly breath had pushed a hand onto your chest, both to grope you and make you stay seated where they wanted you.

“… I just care whether her cunt is tight enou…”.

“I thought it’d be you, fuckers”.

The voice froze you as you thought about how cruel the gods could be.

The Hound was an impressive man in just his clothes, and he had just appeared in his full armor.

Dirtied by blood that seemed like cherry wine.

“Sandor” ‘Smelly Breath’ spoke, and it caught you off guard as you don’t think that you had heard anybody call him anything but ‘the Hound’.

And yet these were probably his friends and fellow soldiers, so it made little sense for them to be formal.

“… have you come to join the party, haven’t you”.

The thought filled you with much more dread than the thought of those three men using you for their filthy needs, but the moment that Sandor moved close to them, you realized that he had just unsheathed his sword and the grip on your arms had loosened enough for you to escape it.

‘Smelly Breath’, still, remained a problem as he pushed you back against the wall.

You moaned in pain at such an action as he hissed to you to ‘cease fucking moving’.

“We could give you the first round” the taller one who had been slowly distance himself from the scene offered, as he eyed attentively the sword in his hands “… you are the oldest among us, it’s only right…”.

“It’s only right that you leave her alone” it was final, and as close as to an order than he’d have ever come to “… get a fucking whore from one of Littlefinger’s brothels”.

“What if we want this?” ‘Smelly Breath’ seemed the head of the group and the most daring, as his fingers dug into your skin, and you were sure there’d be bruises by tomorrow.

“She is a mute”.

You tried not to scream at the obvious fact that Sandor entailed with such a phrase that you were flawed because you couldn’t speak.

“You can tell that a woman enjoys herself even when she doesn’t speak”.

“I don’t think that you have ever fucked a woman properly since you first became aware of your cock, Hitan”.

Sandor’s reprimand made Hitan’s mates laugh as the man grew purplish and his grip tightened further enough to make you hiss with no sound.

But Sandor saw the discomfort written on your face.

“Get to your fucking beds” he ordered, although you doubted that he was above any of them, although he was an impressive knight for sure “… tomorrow will fuck you up, even more if you are as shit as I remember at handling wine”.

“Don’t spoil our fun, Sandor” the man whose hands had been onto her arm spoke, although he didn’t dare to look at the bigger man in the eyes “… just because your fucking cock doesn’t get hard for pretty girls, it doesn’t mean ours don’t and it has been too long”.

“Then you’ll fucking lose that cock, tonight” and just like that his sword pointed right to the man’s little friend.

It was enough to have him back away which was as far as he’d have come with an admission of having given up.

Hitan also didn’t seem so happy to continue as he swiftly released her from his grip with one last shove against the wall and a muttered ‘fucking bitch and cockblock’.

The third one just ran after his companions.

It would have been almost comical, hadn’t you still been reeling from what had just happened.

You didn’t detach from the wall till, you felt a gentle but strong hand onto your arm and although the touch was attentive, you still answered in defense, bringing the arm to yourself, and slumping against the wall as if to become one with it.

“I won’t hurt you, girl”.

his voice was gruff, but it sounded sincere, and you strangely trusted him after he had wrestled you away from those three men, if they could be called that.

“… although I would rather be interested into knowing what the fuck you were thinking about wandering the Keep alone, at this cunt of an hour”.

You moved gently a hand in the direction of the kitchens and then mimed the act of drinking tea.

“Fucking hells” Sandor commented as he offered his hand to you – this time he made sure to hold it in front of you, so you’d see him – and gently but strongly brought you back to your feet “… you aren’t only a mute, but also a fucking idiot”.

You sent him a glare that got him at least to lower his head as he let out a laugh.

Your hands stayed joined as he escorted you back to your room.

‘Don’t fucking care if I need to lock you up, you are staying fucking inside, alright?’ it should have sounded like a threat but it wasn’t and you pushed down your heels, almost like a child at the denial of your nightly drink, but there was little resistance that you could offer to a man twice your size and with violence written all across his body ‘… fuckers would have ripped right through you’.

You grimaced at such an image and did lock yourself back into the communal room you shared with the other girls that worked with you, none the wiser to your absence as they all slept soundly through the exhaustion.

Unlike you.

It wasn’t anymore the restlessness that you had felt before mixed with the almost assault that you had just risked, but there was something that burned and hurt in the hands that Sandor had hold, so strangely delicately that it had no reason to pulse with pain.

Unless it was signaling the fact that it longed for its own match, Sandor’s own hand.

You thought that it’d have been an awful night, but then three knocks – quite in succession and not strong enough to wake up anybody but the lightest of sleepers – came and as you rushed to see whether anybody was summoning you, a small tray with a cup in it, still steaming and smelling of herbs that brought you good dreams.

Sandor was smiling in each of them.

Since that night, your relationship with Sandor had grown into a more explicit one, with him accepting only you for his tasks that required a servant and with your eyes boldly settling onto him every time you could, never getting enough of him.

The other girls that worked with you thought you stupid and a dreamer, but you knew what truly went on as Sandor sat beside you on slow days when you were summoned to his room.

It was always a small piece of parchment and a thick piece of charcoal to talk with him apart from gestures.

‘You can’t speak but you can write?’ he had first laughed as you had explained to him that had he given you a piece of paper and something to write with, you’d have been able to communicate better than through charades ‘… gods, you are fucking weird’.

The septa at the orphanage had taken pity with you and while the others chatted through the small moments of happiness, you stayed behind to learn the shape of letters; when you had told that to Sandor, he had had this strange expression on his face, sadness mixed with the violence that characterized him.

‘Lonely childhood’ he had commented as he slapped his thighs ‘… we have that in common, weirdo’.

If he was the Hound, soon people had taken to call you puppy.

And his bitch, but more secretly for Sandor had once broken the hand – and all the fingers – of a drunken man that had shot it on your face while you were serving the knights at a feast.

And it wasn’t always violence that came with Sandor, but also a wicked sense of humor and a smart intelligence that brought him to be the sole one that understood you immediately.

Maybe it was the fact that you were both outcasts that you knew each other so well.

Or maybe it was the fact that you were fated.

That night you had decided to confront this hypothesis.

You had to admit that you had been slightly drunk; queen Cersei had received a commission of wine, she didn’t particularly enjoy and sent it to the kitchens as ‘it might not be up to her tastes, but it wasn’t to be wasted’.

‘She might have poisoned it’ Ylenia had joked, making all the younger girls spit it back, as she took a swing of it ‘… oh gods, don’t be so uptight! At least if we die, we with good wine in our belly, which is much more than dying starving and exhausted!’.

To you it had just seemed like second nature to give some to Sandor, to run to his chambers with heated cheeks and a dumb smile to make him taste that precious nectar, although he probably tasted it daily as he might not be fully a knight, but he was above you.

Still, what little of good you owned, it went to Sandor.

And maybe you were indeed his puppy following him and you didn’t mind it when his eyes were onto you all too proud and swift while his cheeks flustered red.

And your own grew redder the moment that you came close to Sandor’s room, hearing exaggerated female moans but also clearly male grunts that belonged to the same man that you had been hounding desperately in those months, believing that you were special to him.

That his lack of cruelty for you meant that he held something for you.

Instead, here he was with a common whore.

The wine in the chalice you had brought to him, spilled onto your dress in your haste to go back and be consoled by Ylenia, who was kind but stern as she reminded you that:

‘Dogs were animals after all’.

That’s how you finished your dilly-dallying with a man that you by now knew that you’d never have, as you blushed thinking about how foolish you had been; from then on, your gaze never met Sandor and you switched with the other girls your turns, offering them money and your food for that task.

In a few weeks, he had gotten the hint and he left you alone.

It took much less resistance than you thought and you tried not to have it hurt as much as it felt, as you focused into your work and there was so much work with the queen’s new child’s arrival, enough that you misplaced the sole precious possession that you owned: a brass bracelet that the septa that had taught you how to read had left you after her death.

It was a little thing of no beauty but of comfort to you, and the day that you came back from a long shift, it was nowhere to be seen and while you questioned aggressively everyone about where it had gone, nobody gave you an answer, insisting that nobody would have stolen it for the little value that it had.

First you lost Sandor – not that he had ever been yours – and now the bracelet that had been your sole possession.

Gods, if you felt lost at the Keep.

Thankfully still the bracelet was just a simple object, hence it could be returned, and it was returned to you by one of the delivery boys, Jason, who brought it to you with a happy smile and received many thanks.

In all truth, he had been kind with you and asked for nothing but a walk for his gesture, one that wasn’t uncomfortable or felt particularly awful, but neither had the spark that the ones you had been on with Sandor, trailing after him as he moved faster.

Still, Jason was nice, good to you and a perfect gentleman.

All the girls in her dormitory swooned over him and he had brought you what little preciousness you held dear to her heart.

He kissed you in a hallway, a bit forceful: his hands searched beneath you dress as you felt again back to that night with the smelly breath and probing hands.

But it was Jason, he was perfect and sweet and…

‘What the fucking are you fucking doing, boy?’.

You kept your eyes closed as you thought this was a dream, as Sandor had taken onto avoiding you as you did with him, so it made no sense for him to be there.

‘… it’s a fucking hallway not a brothel’.

You tried not to be insulted by the implication as you opened your eyes to send Sandor a glare, more out habit than anything else, and realized he was there, handsome in his cloak and armor.

Even his ugly scar was a detail that you missed.

‘I and the lady were just too eager’ and although you had wanted to kiss Jason, you didn’t like his tone.

And neither did Sandor.

“The fucking lady is coming with me” and just like that he crossed over to Jason and took your hand, again, as he had done that night and again you felt that relief at being joined together “… scram off, you cunt”.

Jason looked like he wanted to fight, but what little could he do with a mountain of muscles?

Hence, he – indeed – scram off and Sandor turned to you and while you had expected him to avoid you quickly, his gaze was settled onto you heavy and angry.

“I don’t want you around that fucking idiot, anymore, alright?”.

You didn’t have your usual piece of parchment so, you couldn’t tell him that he wasn’t your father, your husband, or your master so you simply flipped him off and moved to get in the direction of where Jason had gone.

But Sandor stopped you, again.

“He isn’t fucking good for you, girlie” he spat again, as she levelled him another stare “… fucking glare all you fucking want, but hadn’t he thought your tits were pretty, he’d have sold your fucking bracelet to the first person he saw”.

Your eyes went wide open as you realized that Sandor knew something you didn’t.

And that he hadn’t meant to tell it to you, as he his eyes found the floor, almost ashamed.

You promptly tugged onto his sleeve, as if to tell him not to leave you like this.

And as much as he didn’t hold you in his heart like you did in your own, he gave you the truth.

At least you could count on him for that.

“Heard it as we rounded up a small band of thief” he commented swiftly and gruffly as he released your hand “… said he fucking stole it from one of the servant girls… the cute mute one with the…”.

He scratched his head, and you couldn’t believe that for a man that enjoyed his own whore, he couldn’t report what vulgar thing Jason had said about you.

“… he said that had he given it back to you, he might have seen…” again that loss for words, that reticence as if you hadn’t learned early on your life all the terrible shit men could spat and you mouthed the word, he was missing him, as a light dust of red appeared on his cheeks “… yes…”.

And it did hurt – not as much as Sandor’s betrayal – but it did hurt.

“Let me accompany you in your rooms” Sandor spoke almost pleadingly “… fucker might corner you again and I’d be rather happy to deck him across the face…”.

You promptly shook your head, feeling as vulnerable as fucking ever and not wishing for the company of the man that had broken you first, but as you lowered your eyes and put your face in between your shoulders, it was a rough hand that brought your chin up.

“What have I done, little girl?” he spoke as if he knew that there was something.

As if he felt it.

“You are all chatty and fucking smiley for weeks with me and then fuck off with a bastard who doesn’t deserve you”hadn’t you know against it; you’d have said that he was begging for you “... what did this old dog to make you so pissed?”.

You shook your head, turning it away from him, even though his tight grip.

“Don’t tell me that you fucking finally realized that you deserve better than me”.

It was meant to be a joke, but it held some strange lingering sadness that got you to look up at him, almost pained by what he didn’t let be said in his eyes.

And slowly you shook your head as if to get the point across.

“Well, you should fucking have” he spoke, and you hated the patronizing way in which he always seemed to know what was better for you, while he ruined himself for fucking nothing “… c’mon, let me fucking accompany you to your rooms”.

And before he knew it, you fucking took off and this time he wasn’t fast enough to grab onto you, although he did chase after you and you felt almost girlish in running fast as he ran after you weighted in his full armor, as if you were an hare running away from an hunter.

What a silly spectacle you might have made for those that might come in the empty hallway.

You were having enough fun till you were shoved onto the wall, although this time much more gently than when it had happened with the three soldiers that had cornered you late at night and you felt the deep thrill that you hadn’t felt when Jason had been kissing you so passionately, right as Sandor’s hand went to your sides to hold you in place, while his hips dug your back further into the uncomfortable brick patterns on the walls.

“What’s your fucking problem?” he spoke slurred as if he had been drinking although his breath didn’t smell in any way like ale “… you are more trouble than what you are fucking worth it”.

Was that way then he preferred whores to you?

They were easy: you paid them, you screwed them and then they were out.

“Screw you” you mouthed back at him, as you tried to – again – escape his grip.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, little shitstain” he spoke as his eyes were inevitably glued onto you, or better a specific part, your lips “… and the worst is that I don’t fucking know what to do with myself when it comes to you”.

And before you knew it, his lips had crashed onto you, with a savagery that got you thinking that Sandor wasn’t holding back.

And that you enjoyed it.

Your hands moved away and tangled loosely around his neck, while you didn’t know what it was, but you jumped up exactly the moment that Sandor’s hands moved onto your thighs, perfectly hosting you up as two circus exhibitioners who had tried this move over and over.

If you had thought that you were uncomfortable against the wall before, you had been painfully wrong, as now your breath was stolen not only by his lips but by the way his chest pressed against yours, thick metals against the soft cotton of your serving dress, not enough thick to protect you from the sensation burning into your stomach.

And still, when he retracted you tried to bring him onto you again, hissing and whining with what little expression you had left as you kept your eyes closed not wanting to wake up if this was a dream.

“Now you fucking understand what will happen if you fucking toy with me?” he spoke, breathless and it filled you with pride that you had reduced him to such a state “… I am not like fucking Jason or what the fucking… I won’t slip my fucking hand between your gowns and mess around lazily like a fucker. I’d fucking fuck you against this wall, if given the chance”.

And at that you opened your eyes, looking at Sandor with a gaze that clearly said:

‘Then, why don’t you?’.

He staggered back, almost forgetting that you came with him, surprised by the fact that your chests didn’t detach, that you didn’t fall to the ground horridly, and instead came onto him like something attached to him.

“You don’t fucking want what I can give to you, little one”.

You wished desperately for your usual piece of parchment, but when you had come after Jason, you hadn’t had it, and yet you couldn’t waste the occasion. Not when Sandor looked so conflicted.

So, you simply did what he had done to you before, pressing your lips against his with insecurity as you hadn’t kissed many and there was something different from the playful kisses you had exchanged with your friends to the one you pressed onto his lips, as it was this that would have brought the final decision.

That would have told him that you fucking wanted whatever he’d give you.

Whether it’d be his lips, his hard cock that rubbed against your stomach or his heart.

You didn’t have a specific preference, not when you wanted him as yours.

Just for one night.

You were addicted onto the promise of what he brought to you with his rugged lips and strong hands.

He detached clumsily and when he dropped you, you were sure that you had lost it, till his hands tangled with you own much more shyly than when he had kissed you so eagerly and you knew that somehow you had him.

For your own.

“I am fucking hard and it is all your fault” never any words had sound any sweeter “… fucking Seven Hells!  I was about to take you against a wall…”.

And he turned to you with a smirk that sent something dark shivering down your back.

“… and you’d have let me”.

You had at least the decency to feel heat on your cheeks as he brought you along by the hand – warm and calloused – into his rooms, ascertaining himself that nobody was there before he pushed you inside and while you expected – and wanted – his hands onto you again, you were practically shoved onto the chair at the small table where he usually consumed his meals.

Papers and pen were immediately sufficed to you and while you had thought to avoid this, Sandor looked at you with enough anger to make you smirk.

“You explain yourself, alright?”.

And you had promptly written back:

‘Then are you going to fuck me?’.

It was strange to see such a huge man blush at your wording.

“You wouldn’t have all this fucking boldness if you could speak, little shit” he shot back, as he brought back the paper to you “… and maybe. You know… you kind of left me offended… thought the dog was too fucking old for you and had to chase after some of the younger fucking bitches, all yapping to you?”.

You shouldn’t have felt his jealousy that hard, but you did as a special kind of throbbing started right in between your thighs.

‘You were the first one to replace me’ and you did have a bit of shame for yourself as you added ‘… I heard you with the whore’.

And Sandor at first looked surprised and confused and then realization settled onto him, as one his hand gently threaded into your hair.

“Don’t tell me you were jealousy, pretty?” he taunted you like an idiot “… oh gods, my little silly girl…”.

‘Fuck you, Sandor’.

“It’s the opposite, sweetheart” he made you again flustered, as he lowered himself till they were face-to-face “… don’t you fucking understand that I have needs? Needs that I can’t push onto pretty little girls like you, because you’ll break”.

‘I won’t break’ you wrote back, straightening your back and raising your head but most importantly making sure to look at him as to let him know that you weren’t scared of him.

Not now, not ever.

And he looked taken aback, unable to hide the way his eyes widened before he shook his head lightly.

“We shall see” and like that he gently raised you up by the chair, holding out a hand to you “… although don’t think that you get any bonuses just because you are you”.

And your gaze seemed to almost say ‘I’d never ask for such a thing’ as your back found the bed and his lips your own.

He was strangely gentle for a man that just threatened to break you, and never like in that moment you regretted not having your voice, as you’d have moaned his name over and over every time his lips left your own, as you were worried, he’d change his mind each time he left you.

So, you only chased after him, till his hands again held you down by your sides and he had this wicked expression on his face that got you to feel the rush of adrenaline all through you.

“You were so fucking silly” he spoke as he looked at you, while your bag duck into the soft plushness of the mattress “… to be jealous of me, when we aren’t nothing for each other”.

Again, you wished to have a voice to tell him that he was mean for denying something that was very much between you, so you just levelled him a stare that said it and hoped he’d get the message.

“You are so smart” he continued as his hands gently raised through your sides to your ribcage and onto the sleeves of your dress “… too smart to fucking chase after an old dog like me”.

And just like that your dress was ripped apart and you silently screeched at the show of strength while Sandor went to lap onto all the naked skin that was revealed onto him, at first kissing it and then biting where it was the softest as you brought your hands onto your back, digging your nails in the metal of your armor.

He wasn’t as cruel as he had promised, but he was relentless.

He made sure to mark you and there was something inherently arousing in the knowledge that he could have made you take everything from him.

And you’d have gladly accepted it.

“A pity you can’t speak, although that cunt of Hitan was right” and all too soon his hands slipped into the rip of your dress to your smallclothes, lightly ghosting over your clothed mound and finding it drenched “… you can tell when you are doing a good job with a woman, even if she doesn’t scream”.

You had expected him to rip away the rest of your dress, move aside your small clothes and dive inside of you.

You had hoped, but instead his hand had gently retreated, and he had moved onto kissing you again tenderly, brushing away the hair from your face to see wholly your face, while his own was hidden beneath his locks, and you had an inkling that he enjoyed it this way.

After all, you were mostly undressed in front of him, while he was still in his armor.

The coldness of the armor felt almost like a relief on your heated skin.

“You shouldn’t fucking lust after an old dog like me” he breathed out on your lips “… but I don’t want that cunt of Jason to have you… I don’t fucking want anybody to have you but me, and I am a fucking monster for that”.

It was as close to a declaration as it came and you moved up to gently kiss Sandor, in hopes he’d hear that you didn’t think he was a monster, as you wished the same; you wanted to have him, not nameless whores for a night. You wanted him for ever.

But right now, it wasn’t a question of time.

And you’d have avoided the talk.

“Still, if this isn’t something that you want, you better fucking say it” and realizing the mistake of his words, he added “… beat onto my chest one time to tell me to continue and a second and I’ll have you sent back to your rooms, no fucking expectation”.

He waited for the second beat on his chest after your first, and when he realized it wouldn’t have come, he looked at you like you were somehow crazy and a miracle at the same time and then he raised up to kiss you, desperately and urgently.

“The beats on my chest are valid also now” he spoke as he seemed not to get enough of your lips, while you giggled against him “… one is for ‘continue fucking me, Clegane’, two is for me to stop, alright?”.

You giggled at him and nodded as you gently moved his hand onto his armor, wanting him to take it off, but he didn’t seem to listen to you as his hand dipped down into the gash on your dress and this time he didn’t simply caress you; he pushed aside the garments and swiped your own wetness for his own, making you huff and throw back your head against the pillows.

But nothing could have prepared you for when he brought your wetness to his lips and he sucked, looking at you hungrily and darkly.

“You are fucking sweet also down there” he commented, before his mouth latched onto one of your exposed nipples, and his hand went down to your garments, and onto your Venus’ mount “… fucking dogs like me are used to bones, not to fucking little girls who taste better than Arbor”.

You felt yourself grew heated in embarrassment at his bold words, and yet there wasn’t much left when his hands started to gently draw out patterns onto a part of you that you didn’t know existed but brought the most intense pleasure you had ever experience.

And Sandor, that fucker, knew it.

“… just a few rubs to your pretty pearl and you are already acting like a fucking whore” he spoke gently to your ear, although the words were cruel and they made you cry out silently “… maybe I should have been fucking you instead of those whores, you taste so wickedly and tremble so prettily”.

You cried out at the praise and your legs tightened around him, trying to keep him there and you almost choked out in pure fear as his hand moved away, brushing against your folds, before gently dipping inside.

“Can you stay without me for a few fucking minutes?” his voice was dark and not a request “… I want to fucking see whether you are as pretty down there as you are here”.

You hid your face into the crook of his shoulder and nodded, hearing Sandor smirk as he left behind a kiss on your cheek, a promise to come back, as he went lower down your body.

And you felt him, each kiss, each nip, as the tip of his finger separated her folds, and here you were exposed to him.

“Fuck” he spoke out in admiration “… the prettiest I have ever seen”.

Then something dark came onto him, as he dipped closer to where you ached the most and you closed your eyes, unable to hold such an image in your eyes.

“… and you were about to squander it with a boy that wouldn’t have gotten you to come” he spoke almost as if it was a reprimand “… fucking fucker. You don’t fucking need a boy, you need a man and although I am not the man for you, I’ll teach you fucking better”.

And just like that his tongue was covering all of yourself and you were crying out, squirming away at the sensation of him onto you, inside you and desperately against you.

“Just a lick and you are bashful?” he taunted you “… just you wait till I fuck you open on my finger, little girl”.

But he did wait before doing what he intended, and you realized that he meant to ask for your consent to have you utterly debauched and you didn’t know whether he did out of concern, or it was a power move onto you, but you still knocked against his chest one single time.

And yet, he didn’t spread you open but went to taste you as he fully removed your dress and now you were naked in front of him, a position that should have made you feel ashamed; but how could you when Sandor made you feel like a goddess at whose altar he was praying?

After all, wasn’t he on his knees, between your legs?

Although what he was doing was anything but holy.

You were surprised when you first felt his finger dip inside you and only then Sandor raised his face from his attentive work to have you loosened on his tongue to take in your expression as he seemed to check for any signs of discomfort, while he pushed inside his thick index, making you choke out softly and close your eyes.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, although it was a weird sensation you hadn’t felt before.

You felt full.

“… don’t tell me that you haven’t put your own fingers inside of yourself, little one” he cooed to you “… well, it wouldn’t matter, as they are fucking little compared to my own”.

And if those were his fingers, you couldn’t think about his cock.

His finger inside you stretched you to the point of discomfort, although his tongue kept on working circles through you, relaxing you enough that the tension of your walls moved into a more comfortable bliss as he started moving his finger in and out of you, lightly crooking it at times as if he was searching for something.

“… fucking hell, where the fuck is it?” he spoke to himself, and you pouted at him, digging your heels into his bag as a way to get him back to you, and pushing out your lips for a kiss “… I should have fucking foreseen that you were one of the fucking needy ones”.

But he did kiss you and added another finger.

Two fingers shouldn’t have been so different from one, but the stretch intensified and then fuck… he found what he was looking for.

“Does it feel good, little girl?” he taunted you, as he gently released the hold onto hat soft spot that got you seeing the stars “… don’t fucking tell me. You are drenching my hand and the sheet probably”.

He bullied that spot with an urgency that brought you to fucking screech with what little sound you had in your body, as your nails dug into what little skin you could feel through the armor.

“You are doing so well, girl” he spoke, almost cooing and although he meant to be teasing it just made you feel a whole lot better “… so pretty for me and my fucking fingers”.

And his tongue as he dipped down again, and it almost felt too much: the conjunction of his fingers and tongue brought you to feel your stomach tighten and then release slowly, oh so slowly as pleasure overcame you wholly and here you were desperately rutting against his bear as you pled with all your body for him to continue.

And to let you go.

Thankfully Sandor might be menacing but he was a giving lover and held you down as you shook a second time, wetting his beard with your juices this time and he laughed at that much to your embarrassment when he came up to kiss you.

“So shy for just a few times?” he teased her as he gently ghosted his lips over her own “… fucking virgins are always the easiest, aren’t they”.

You pounded lightly his back at that, although your legs inevitably brought him forward into you.

“Don’t tell me that you aren’t a fucking virgin” he teased again, although it had an hint of possessiveness, the slightest “… you certainly do fucking blush like one”.

Instead of further goading his teasing, you tugged against his armor, obviously asking him to take it off, but Sandor resisted you although he did move the lower part to help himself out of his breeches.

“A virgin and one that hasn’t ever seen a cock” he spat out as your eyes were so focused onto his own member, all red and veiny and deliciously big to the point that it low key scared you.

And aroused you.

Your hands moved to where he held it, and it wasn’t only pretty but also strangely silky in the touch, as it lightly twitched in your smaller hand, making Sandor curse out much to your satisfaction.

“… gods and fucking Seven Hells, don’t do that to a man” he protested, but he didn’t comment on the way you loosely started pumping him, up and down and again and again, as your instinct guided you, taking in any small expression on Sandor’s face “… oh gods, fucking… don’t make me come in your fucking hand like a shitstain on his first ride with a woman”.

You smirked at him, happy to have regained some power over him as you did detach from him but not before having lightly tightened your hold on his cock, just the softest pressure to have him hiss through his teeth, while you adjusted further on bed to allow him to sit as well.

It was only when he crowded onto you, standing on top of you with each arm by the sides of your face that you realized that it was going to happen.

That for all his talk, he was going to take you.

He was going to make you, his.

And yet, he seemed to wait, as his eyes moved onto you, his face still partially covered by his hair falling on his face to hide his scarred face and you desperately wanted to hold them back and tell him that you didn’t care, that he was perfect, scarred face, rough hands, and soft words just for you, as he waited for you to give him the one beat.

And you did so as you spread your legs for him, a bit bashful to offer yourself to him like a feast but any of his restraint broke at that and soon you felt that same smooth tip that had been in your hands moments before right against your pearl, rubbing in teasing circles.

“Just two times you have come, and you are already fucking drenching my cock” he gently bullied your hole with the type, bringing it upward and downward into you “… a man isn’t going to last long, you should know that”.

And like that he first breached you and you had to admit that the pain that you thought would have come, didn’t.

It was just a strange sensation of an intrusion not painful but not pleasurable as you opened your eyes to find a smirk on Sandor’s face as he pushed down to kiss you and pushed himself further into you.

There it started to hurt.

He was so big, and you were so fucking small.

And yet, the pain wasn’t unbearable, as he pushed himself into you to the point that you wondered just how far he could reach into you, just how far he could claim into your body as he fully sheathed into you with a grunt, his face falling onto the crook of your neck, and although he was the bigger one, you felt the control that came when your hands gently started threading through his hair.

“You are tight” no bold words to have you flustered “… indeed a fucking virgin and you are allowing me to take you. A fuckin dog, oh gods, fucking…”.

His hips dig into you and the first thrust left you breathless and immediately Sandor checked for you, almost as if he was worried for what he had done but you just smiled at him as you whined at the sensation of his cock dragging against your walls as they molded around him.

You felt yourself clench and then relax, and then do it again as his thrusts became more present, and although they were slow, you felt his strength into you.

“So good” he breathed into your neck, littering it with a few soft kisses, as he seemed lost in the pleasure and you took that exact moment to look at what your joining looked like, curious to know whether it was as good as it felt, and you were surprised by one fact.

The way your stomach bulged every time he thrusted back inside you.

Fuck, it should have been grossing you out inevitably and instead you were fascinated by the way he let his claim into you; how he bullied your body to find his way home into you.

To slip himself inside of you further and further.

Whatever pain you had left was now behind as his hips started thrusting faster and faster and you couldn’t complain, not when the hand on your pearl started to match said rhythm and soon you were overstimulated by both the sensations: the primal one of his pushes into you and the soft pleasure of his stroking.

“I am so fucking close” he seemed almost to beg you for something “… I am going to fucking come like a virgin. I’ll fucking spill into you and that cunt of Jason won’t ever try to sneak his dirty hands inside your skirts”.

Before you knew it, you were now onto your stomach as Sandor had exited you to push himself as you laid with your face down, stomach to the mattress and your ass up like a bitch in heat; you would have complained, hadn’t the angle felt much better and his hand had much more freedom, while your nipples brushed against the coarse material of his bedding bringing  even more stimulation.

You were done by this the moment that you felt him press himself wholly against you, his seed spilling into you with enough force that you felt it tickle down yourself, as he didn’t make a move to detach himself from you.

Oh no, not at all, as he instead pushed you further against his weight onto the mattress, and it felt all too much as the pressure proved to be grounding while you went through the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

The moment he realized that he was crashing you – not that you minded – he pushed to the side, effectively separating himself from you and the sensation was as awful as the coldness that hit you and for a moment you thought that it’d end up like this.

After all, Sandor had made it clearly: he wasn’t interested in you past that.

And yet, a few moments after his arms came around you.

“Sleep, then we can fetch a fucking septon” and at your confusion he added “… you need one for a fucking wedding, don’t you?”.

[yaoisubmarine]

SuperM fic recs (8)

Byun Baekhyun/Mark Lee

cotton candy by Anonymous [au:modern, non-famouse, age difference] 32k oneshot

[03:34] AITA? I (28M) fucked my ex’s (30M) brother (21M) as a revenge scheme and now I think I’m falling in love with him. Help.

AKA: Baekhyun makes poor life decisions and ends up with more than he’d bargained for (see: Mark Lee).

quality control by ncityinthehouse [au:modern, office au, office sex] 8k oneshot

Mark has an email in his inbox with the subject, “See me immediately,” with the sender very obviously being his boss. Mark’s checked, like three times. It definitely says byunb@bbhinc.com. The worst part of it all is Mark can’t tell from the context if he’s getting fired or getting laid. Or maybe, both.

Tryna Be Somebody by hyucksicles for putputpotato [au:modern, non-famous, college/university, coming of age, requited unrequited love, first love] 44k oneshot

Growing up is hard enough as it is. Falling helplessly in love wth someone so far out of your league it's almost ridiculous along the way? Well, that only serves to make it worse. Still, Mark will make it through. Somehow.

Byun Baekhyun/Lee Taeyong

curiosity & the cat by cryptidmoon for kevidnay [au:magical realism, urban fantasy, coffee shops & tattoo parlour] 18k oneshot

With Taeyong's magic broken and his time running out, he turns to the last person he'd expect to ask for help; Baekhyun, an illegal witch running an underground tattoo parlour. Taeyong may just end up with more problems than he started with.

Dom Fatal – Book 1 by putputpotato [au: bdsm, sugar daddy, contracts, strangers to lovers] 75k oneshot

When Baekhyun started working as a professional dominator four years ago, he expected a relatively calm life, all things considered. What he did not expect was to be hired exclusively by one of the richest, most successful actors in the world; Innocence-icon Lee Taeyong.

Byun Baekhyun/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas

[note: tbh i am kinda wary of adding these fics after the whole controversy surrounding Lucas (good riddance) but these fics are very well written. as the fic writer has privated these fics, i have linked the archived pages saved on wayback machine]

the theory of ribcages: cut open, and pull [au:modern, non-famous, sexuality crisis, strangers/idiots to lovers] 37k oneshot

The last thing Yukhei wants in life is to get caught up in an accidental romantic-friends-with-benefits arrangement with a man going through a divorce, but that’s just the Baekhyun effect, luring Yukhei in when he least expects it.

something about you feels okay [au:modern, urban fantasy, vampires, werewolves] 7k oneshot

All Yukhei wants is to be good for Baekhyun --but Baekhyun wants to be good for Yukhei too.

script revisions [au:modern, actors au, kinda one sided enemies/rivals to lovers] 17k oneshot

Baekhyun’s life is somebody else’s script and he’s afraid of the ending scene --maybe it’s a good thing, then, that Yukhei keeps coming in and changing all the lines.

[bthehufflepuff208]

I’ve mostly moved on from my “analyzing iCarly even though I’m way, way too old for it” days. But something happened in the reboot that I just......need to discuss.

In the episode where Lewbert takes Carly to court and he interrogates Freddie on the stand, something very interesting and amazing is finally acknowledged:

L: And isn’t it true you had a deep, unrequited love for Carly?

F: It was occasionally requited! Like when I threw myself in front of a taco truck to save her

L: So only when you’re hurt.  Sounds less like love and more like pity

F: Well if you’re going to go off on how it sounds, and looks, and is, then yes

L: And now, aren’t you back where you started? Producing iCarly, doing her bidding, even entering into a fake relationship all for whose benefit?

F:....Carly.

That is the Creddie relationship in a nutshell! To the fucking tee.

Every time Carly seems to return Freddie’s feelings, it’s under a condition.  Dances with him in iSpeed Date? Only because her date was awful. Dates him in iSaved Your Life? Because she loved the idea he was willing to risk his life for her.  Kissed him in iGoodbye? Was leaving the country and not knowing how long for.

Would Carly have danced with Freddie if her date was amazing in iSpeed Date? Would she have dated him him at that time if he didn’t push her out of the way of getting run over? Would she have kissed him if she was staying in Seattle?

The answer is no, kids.

And what’s hilarious and utterly ridiculous about them finally acknowleding Carly’s “conditional love” for Freddie, is that they’re still planning on having Carly and Freddie end up together and ride into the sunset! Not only that, they’re going to end up together due to Carlys “conditional love.”

Carly is only now going to realize her “true feelings” for Freddie because he starts dating a girl who he’s incredibly happy with. She’s only realizing Freddie is the “love of her life” once again, in a condition.

The writers openly state the massive problem with Creddie, but then are like “yeah, but Carly and Freddie are still soulmates even if she’s only going to realize she loves him because he’s happily dating someone else.”

Like, I know everyone loves the “awkward, nerdy guy obsesses over and harasses the perfect dream girl for years to love him until she finally gives in and sees him as her “true love”.  But c’mon! If you openly state the massive issue with a relationship and then turn around and be like “nah, it’s okay, they’re soulmates”, what was the point of acknowledging the issue?

If the writers want to be original, after they have Carly and Freddie get together, spend the season after showing once the honeymoon phase is over, the massive problems of Freddie having Carly on this pedestal of the “perfect dream girl” and Carly having to face whether she is in love with Freddie for being Freddie or was terrified of losing the guy who was always waiting for her if things didn’t work out with other guys. And once they face these issues, realize they loved the “idea” of each other rather than actually being in love with each other as they are.

But they won’t; Miranda, Nathan and the fans have spoken.  Obsessive childhood love always wins!

[firelxdykatara]

not gonna lie I would love to hear more about the drama and infighting that went on in The Vampire Diaries fandom if you have the time (and also want to use that time to give your experience with the fandom, which from the snippets you've told sounds Not Fun so I get it if you don't want to lol)

oh god, there was like, SO MUCH, i just

i really feel like tvd is one of those fandoms that is so hard to describe without a lot of ‘you’d have to have been there’, but it really felt like this huge and all-consuming beast for about five years until the show finally imploded and the fandom basically turned on it en masse. (you ever see that post going around that’s like ‘if you ever want to know what true regret feels like, ask someone who once called tvd their favorite show’? still a mood, all these years later. basically the entire fandom thought the show should have just bowed out with whatever shreds of dignity it had left at the end of season 6, and became more of a hatedom than a fandom for the last two seasons. when you have an entire fandom cheering news of your show’s cancellation, i think that’s a sign you done fucked up, julie.)

first and most infamous, of course, are the ship wars. which are pretty much inevitable in any teen-centered drama, and i really think the CW fucking thrives on them, but it was particularly egregious in TVD’s case because not only was the base premise of the show a love triangle, but the two main romantic leads were brothers that the show constantly pit against one another--in pursuit of elena’s affections, but also because it kept up this insistence on the ‘good brother/bad brother’ dichotomy which stopped making sense after about season 2 (by which time we have found out that the good brother was never as good as he appeared, and the bad brother has been growing and isn’t nearly as bad as he pretends to be)--and the question of which brother ‘deserved’ elena (and no, what elena wanted very rarely factored into these discussions, especially in the team stefan camp because they turned on her when what she wanted was no longer The Good Brother, but i’ll get to that in a bit) was hotly contested.

i’m not kidding when i say the shipping wars were vicious. i started watching tvd shortly after it began to air, which was late 2009, and kept up with it fairly sporadically over the years. i didn’t come onto tumblr until 2011/2012, and by then, the fandom was already pretty much a garbagefire. there were anti ship and anti character blogs, any time something bad happened for one ship the rival ship would invade the tags to gloat about it (seasons 3 and 4 were especially rough, and i’m not gonna pretend delena fans weren’t just as bad about tag invasion and shit, but as that was my side of the road i saw a lot more of the stelena shippers being assholes, which soured my opinion on the ship a long time before i started rewatching and realized the red flags were there from the start), confessions blogs were popular also toxic as fuck (so much fighting happened in the notes of those posts, good gods), and this was right around when twitter’s popularity was on the rise and the line between Celebrity and Fan was thinning, so the fandom was absolutely atrocious to much of the tvd cast and crew.

(some of them deserved a lot of the later backlash, but in the early years a lot of it was ‘how dare you write the story in a way i dont like, you terrible fucking person’, and gods don’t get me started on the dobsley vs nian Thing)

i think what really encapsulates my feelings on the tvd fandom as a whole, though, is the way they (to this DAY) treated elena gilbert, which can be summed up in one meme that gained a lot of traction around season 3 if i remember right: that gif of pam from true blood, with the text altered to read “i’m so OVER elena and her precious doppelganger vagina!”

i swear at one time i had over half the active tvd fan accounts on tumblr blocked, because i got to a point where i would no longer tolerate elena hate, and she was (and still is, in what remains of the fandom; you’ll see a lot of ‘elena was one of the worst things about the show’ takes from ex-fans, too) one of the most widely despised characters in the entire fandom. because she -checks smudged writing on hand- was a traumatized teenage girl who -reads off a crumpled notecard- couldn’t always perfectly sort out her own feelings and -squints at the ceiling- sometimes made mistakes or bad decisions. (except a lot of the fandom also insisted that she was a mary sue who had no character traits or flaws or faults and it was like....make up your fucking minds???? is she a calculating conniving bitch whose somehow manipulating these centuries old vampires to tie them around her little finger or is she a boring flat character with no depth and no flaws??? jfc)

there was this massive double standard, too--like, stefan and damon could fuck whoever they wanted and that was fine, but elena was constantly raked over the coals for the crime of developing romantic feelings for the two men who had become constants in her life and whom she cared for deeply, and oh my GOD the slut shaming that happened when elena slept with damon was fucking wild. (and also happened in canon lmfao. like the show had one of elena’s best friends basically call her diseased on screen for falling in love with someone other than stefan. it was gross and ridiculous and the friend in question was also being a giant hypocrite at the time since she was happily flirting with someone who was directly responsible for the deaths of like four of elena’s loved ones and her own boyfriend’s mother but that’s beside the point) but like elena was called a slut and a bitch and a whore for ‘cheating’ on stefan (she hadn’t, and she had in fact broken up with him on screen the episode earlier) and ‘immediately’ jumping into bed with damon, even though none of them said fucking boo when stefan had one night stands or damon had fuckbuddies or whatever.

shit, caroline didn’t get any of this treatment when she started falling for tyler while dating matt! which isn’t to say i think she should have, just that i think it’s fucking ridiculous that elena was absolutely demonized by the fandom for daring to have feelings for two guys at once and eventually acting on them--despite the fact that the entire premise of the show was a love triangle. it’s not a love triangle if both sides don’t eventually get explored, and the crew had been pretty explicit about the fact that delena was going to happen at some point--but when it did, a huge chunk of the fandom absolutely threw a fit.

and a lot of these elena haters were alleged stelena stans, and i say alleged because they hated her so much for not wanting stefan’s dick anymore that it was clear they were really stefan stans and only wanted stelena to be endgame because they wanted stefan to ‘win’ at the end of the day, because ‘he’s the good brother’ so he deserved elena more.

it was all very gross and very misogynistic and very sex shaming (apparently delena was a ‘shallow’ and ‘superficial’ relationship because they had sex after two years of unrequited feelings slowly becoming requited and then pining for ages on both sides, and because they had a lot of on screen chemistry that the show capitalized on for years so of course they did a lot of making out and shit but it’s not like stelena didn’t have its fair share of making out and sex scenes, stefan was just too much of a coward to let elena top i’d apologize for that joke but i’m really not sorry because it’s true), and when i say it was egged on by the crew, that’s because they refused to let the love triangle die back in season 4 when it should have.

they insisted on stringing stelena fans along, dropping little bread crumbs to keep them invested, like dreams of a future where they were married and revealing that stefan was also a doppelganger and he and elena were descended from a pair of star-crossed lovers (a plot that ultimately went nowhere, to no one’s great surprise), and then fucking like. julie plec turned around and threw nina under the bus after she chose not to extend her contract and pretended that stelena might have happened again if she hadn’t left the show, which....i mean frankly i wouldn’t put it past her, but it would have been shitty writing. then again, she thought having a vampire pregnancy where a uterus was magically transplanted from a witch into a vampire that could somehow......carry the babies to term.... made sense and was a good way to accomodate candice’s RL pregnancy rather than like literally ANYTHING else, soooooo. but anyway julie saying that around like, end of s6 sparked off a new wave of nina hate and elena hate and ship wars bc they SEers took it as ‘confirmation’ that stelena was REALLY meant to be endgame and it was all just a hot fucking mess

another thing is that, while tvd was in its prime before the anti/purity culture shit started picking up any real steam, there was still this pervasive attitude throughout the fandom that if you liked Damon, you were A Bad Person. liking damon was apparently grounds for insults and harassment, and apparently he was The Worst Person on the Show even though literally nothing he does on screen is any worse than shit we know stefan has done (and frankly every other vampire too, but i mention stefan specifically because he was always held up--in the show but especially in the fandom--as the Good Brother while damon was the Bad One, and if you liked damon more then that had to mean your morals were dodgy and you clearly couldn’t appreciate what a heroic and saintly figure dear stefan was and....oops, i’m sorry, my salt keeps leaking -cough-).

meanwhile klaus quickly became a fandom darling despite not even really having much of a redemption arc (on tvd anyway, he just became more ‘affably evil’ as the show went on and more inclined to work with the main characters rather than try to kill them; i have no idea what went on over on his show, though), and like i can 100% appreciate liking villains and not caring that they do dodgy villainous shit, even just liking them bc they’re hot and wanting them to kiss a main character bc they have insanely good chemistry (yes i ship klaroline, no i won’t apologize for it, they could have been Really Great), it’s just really the double standard that gets me.

and all of this, incidentally, required ignoring some truly gross shit stefan was responsible for wrt his relationship with elena, that frankly it has always bothered me never really got addressed in the show. i get why elena herself would never be able to actually call him on it, but the fact is that he stalked her for months after he first saw her and thought she was katherine (meanwhile it only took damon .5 seconds to realize she was someone else entirely, but that’s another topic entirely), and then he deliberately inserted himself into her life because, in his words, ‘i have to know her’. he never gave a thought to how his presence in her life might affect her (or rather, he did, and tormented himself about it in his internal monologue, but never let this actually dissuade him from disrupting her life), and elena would wind up blaming herself for every tragedy that befell her friends and loved ones as a result of getting mixed up in vampire bullshit even though none of it was her fault--she literally blamed herself for existing but most of the fandom didn’t give a fuck about that lmfao--and stefan did shit like find out that she was adopted and then withhold this information from her until she got pissed about another secret he was keeping (her resemblence to katherine) and drop it on her to try and distract her from her very reasonable anger, and like... i should stop before this becomes a whole rant about how much i hate stefan fucking salvatore, but the point is, he did a lot of really sketchy shit he never answered for and elena never really took him to task for, and the fandom just kept eating up his insistence that he was the Good Brother and therefore he deserved to have elena, and if she didn’t want him anymore it was because she was a heinous bitch who didn’t deserve him.

uh.....i think i got off track there. and there’s probably a lot of shit i missed, like i think i was incandescent with rage for most of seasons 5 and 6 so i missed a lot of the interfandom shit cause i was too busy being increasingly pissed off at the show itself, but if nothing else this should give you an idea of how much of a goddamn cesspit the fandom was while the show as in its prime. there’s a reason both the show and the fandom have such a lousy reputation lmfao.

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Ok so I've been stalking your blog for the past couple of hrs after seeing your TadaAi posts (I'm drowning in the period drama that is this ship) and I find you ship Tododeku and rinharu (god i can't stand bakudeku and makoharu) and seems like we share a lot of our views on fandom and ships probably because we're older (I'm 22). Followed and looking forward to your input in the future!

Also you might've given me the motivation to finish watching Free! XD

Hehe yay, please, we need more ppl in our “house of oldies”, make yourself at home lol. And we share a lot of ships?! Even better <3

I knooow, I can’t believe we’ve got a gay “master who fell in love with his servant” ship in the anime, just what I needed for my idiotic collection lmao

But also these two have too much going on between them, so much wasted potential in my opinion, it’d be so interesting to explore (but sadly no xD), they were still the only interesting thing for me lolz. I love complicated morons, who became the victims of a huge unrequited requited love misunderstanding, bc they’re insecure morons lmao and they just have 2 of my fav ships vibes, so it’s probably mostly this haha. 

Oh, I’m inputting *wink wink*, can’t wait to finish the vid, I’m having too much fun with it. I’ve just literally spent several minutes trying to get whether I’ve put Tadashi’s sexy mole in the right distance from his eye in the “him moaning on the table” manip lolz. What can I say... I picked the best hobby, with all the support I’m getting with my vids, I’m living a dream xD

You know, I think I’ve said it before, but when it comes to bakudeku, I at least understand what ppl hope to see there and why, but like.. it’s just not happenning. Also imagining Bakugou lovingly hugging Midoriya is just so OOC I start laughing all the time. And whatever ppl say, in any ship whether they’re enemies or rivals or anything, if you can’t imagine them being tender with each other, smth is not right in my opinion. Also once again, who needs idiotic bleating Midoriya, idk. I’m just tired of the endless “die, deku/out of my way” yelling, I like watching Bakugou going to parties and amusement parks and doing silly stuff, too. Like I’ve said before, pride won’t ever let him change the way he behaves with Midoriya, even when they’re doing “great”. If he was the one, it wouldn’t have mattered, no matter how tough you are, and it wouldn’t take that long. I also don’t think they’re that kind of relationship, like they move each other for sure, sometimes, yeah (not always in a good way tho), but be together in a relationships? Can’t imagine that. Like not all rivals have the rivals to lovers dynamic, no matter what ppl say. But I get the shipping, bc 1stly these two are playing too huge of a role in each other’s lives, 2ndly Midoriya is obsessed with him and Bakugou obsessed with him too (just in a bad way lmao) and 3rd ppl want that “enemies to lovers” dynamic, since many love it (me included, when it done right and progresses right), so they’re trying to write that “to lovers” bridge, that just doesn’t fit here in my opinion, simply bc Bakugou won’t be soft with Midoriya, like ever in a way, you’d want, and I don’t think it’s possible for them to go there.

Tododeku on the other hand, 1stly they also play too huge of a role in each other’s lives, 2ndly Midoriya is obsessed with him too and Todoroki is lovingly obsessed with him in return, 3rdly they are also rivals to lovers, and I have no problem imagining the second part, it won’t be OOC, 4thly Midoriya when he’s with Todoroki is my fav Midoriya, he’s happy, he is cocooned and he’s badass af (and like when he told Endeavor to fuck off or yelled at Todoroki “the fuck are u doing?” xD are still the best), 5thly Midoriya forgets about Bakugou, when he’s with Todoroki a lot and it’s just funny to me, 6thly they healed each other so nicely, I can’t not be into that, 7thly when they’re together I have like 0 worries, idk I’m like “he will catch him” anyways haha, Bakudeku just don’t give me this vibe. It’s like yeah, they won’t let each other die, but it’s always this chaos of “out of my way”, “I don’t want your help” and “let me punch you before I punch the villain” that I’m just “oh for god’s sake, pls bring in Kirishima and Todoroki so we could just go home, it could’ve been solved in 2 minutes” lmao. Etc, etc.

Tododeku just have too many winning points over bakudeku for me, same with kiribaku over bakudeku, even tho I 100% get bakudeku as a ship ofc. Also idk whether things would be different if Todoroki wouldn’t exist in the equation, but the moment I saw that s2 scene where Bakugou started yelling and Todoroki just ignored him and was like “was Midoriya always this good?”, there was no going back to me XD. Like they both obviously see that Midoriya is wonderful, but only one reacted to that in a way that I wanted. And I’m a sucker for the ships who don’t give a fuck and like “yeah, I find him amazing and everyone should know that”. Todoroki is also one of those guys, who if you give them the much needed love, they’ll return it tenfold with a forever devotion. And all of my fav ships are like that: Yullen, Rinharu, Mikayuu, Wangxian, Akakuro, etc. They’re like “well, I ain’t an idiot to let someone this precious go”, you know lol

On the other hand, when it comes to Kirishima, Bakugou can do all kind of ridiculous thing I wouldn’t imagine he would do to keep him or make him happy, you know. Kirishima is also the only one, who can put his arm around Bakugou without it being cut off, so I don’t make the rules here lol.

So it’s not like I can’t stand bakudeku, more of like can’t imagine this work, to me it’s easier to imagine todobaku in a relationships, but not bakudeku lolz.

But when it comes to makoharu, I just have a huge problem with it and I will never get it. Bc they don’t bring anything good in each other like AT ALL, I don’t even understand what kind of relationships this is from their shipper point of view; they give each other nothing, and one of them is totally in love with someone else and wants a future with him. And that someone also head over heals with him and also wants a future with him. And I hate how 99,9 % of mh fans don’t give a fuck about Haru or Rin whatsoever and just ignore their character’s everything. Bc Makoto. I’m also like if you love him so much, the fuck would you want him to be with Haru anyways, dude doesn’t reciprocate, like at all. I’m at confusion, like name good points of this ship and what good can they do for each other characteristically. There is none, it’s like a damn swamp. Like usually I can give my notp some points, but this is like... they’re both no good for each other... like... why would anyone even want this idk. Don’t tell me “for the childhood friends” one-sided dynamic, like why won’t you also ship Shion with Safu then, like even he seemed more invested in that, than Haru in makoharu lol.

Even if you think of them from the point of view of “the two who are always walking together” ships, that are everywhere nowdays (even tho since Haru moved to Tokyo, he was always with Asahi instead), but even if... those kind of ships are usually at least make each happy and are enough for each other. Haru on the other hand, when he doesn’t have Rin, he is walking with Makoto like a ghost, not even caring if he’s talking next to him AND he’s getting ennoyed by him. Like explain, how someone’s shipping them romantically. It’s been showed like 20 times, that with Rin, but without Makoto, he can be perfectly happy, without Rin tho, he never is.

Also someone explain, what exactly is the point of splitting up two characters, who are happy together, make each other the best versions of themselves and want to be together whole-heartedly? Like I know many start shipping smth, bc the relationships are better in the other pairing, for example, but this is like... definitely not the case here. Like what exactly is missing in rinharu, that makoharu has? Lack of progression and mutual inspiration?

So yes, if you’re into rinharu, totally finish Free! They’re like doing sooo incredible and holy shit they’re inspiring, I mean, look, they’re now the tokyo olympics ambassadors, like how many of yall gay ships reached that? you can’t miss out on them, and also they’re so hilariously romantic, they literally made a wish to swim with each other since they were 13 and did everything to get each other there, I’m.. you’re lying, if you didn’t cry watching them as chibies making wishes on a star and watching them now. One of the most wonderful development in my opinion. Like who would’ve thought back in s1, that we’ll get Haru yelling on top of Rin about how he made him want a future with him, def not me lmao and now all the olympics boyfriends fanfiction are true, I mean, idk what to say anymore. I miss them so much, I can’t wait for the movie :D

[solastia]

Day 8

Rules of Attraction, NamYoonJin, 1.8 k words, 1/2 Chapters

I had no idea I needed this in my life!!! It’s so sensual, so hot, the pining oommgg!

“ Seokjin’s gaze had changed - shifted into something dark and challenging. Hungry . And Yoongi couldn’t tear his eyes away.”

Can you imagine?? Just..IMAGINE BEING YOONGI HERE FOR A SEC… Joon and Jinnie on the dance floor, dry humping to the music, while staring you down and practically daring you to join?!?! I would melt into a puddle and just cease to exist.

“It had only taken him a few months to realize he was in love with the world’s smartest idiot, and eight years to realize it was probably going to be forever.”

This is one of the most spot-on descriptions of Joonie I have ever read! He is absolutely the world’s smartest idiot!!!

“looking less like a trendy hobo and more like some sexy professor.”

He does shift from one to the other on a regular basis!!! Lmao!

“He hadn’t quite been prepared for walking into his kitchen to start his coffee and finding a half-clothed tall adonis cooking on his stove. His pajama pants were hung low on his hips, and Yoongi was actually pretty sure that they were the ridiculous hello kitty ones he’d bought Namjoon for a laugh, and yet they seemed to fit this guy. His back was wider than the god damned wall of China, and wiry muscles bulged as he stirred whatever he was making.”

Oh Kim Seokjin, how I love thee, let me count the ways! But seriously, your characterizations are spot on. Jin would totally rock Hello Kitty pjs, and we all know about his world wide shoulders.

“It was hardly the first time he’d seen Namjoon’s dates in their home. It was the first time he got a half-chub just looking at one, though.”

Oh, we talking about Yoongi’s dick now? You have my full attention!!!

“seriously, when the fuck did eyebrows make his dick twitch?”

Oh wow, Yoongi is literally all of us. These boys make my metaphorical dick twitch on the regular!

“We don’t support capitalism in this household,” he slurs, picking up his glass and pouting when he finds it empty.”

😂😂😂

“His Joon. There he was.”

This hit me hard! It’s a whole five words and it hit me HARD!!! AHHHHHH!!!!

And the way you ended it was freaking fabulous! It left us THURSTY for more!

Ok, predictions about this fic based on nothing more than my gutt:

I think Yoongi is going to wake up with a massive headache, grumpy as hell, but in between Jin and Joon. I don’t think anything happened, but that’ll change soon. He’s going to feel confused and disoriented and then Jin and Joon will make it all better, hehehe!

This was a totally sexy fic that left me wanting more. I love the details you include about our boys, and I cannot wait to see what we get!!!

Love you lots!

💜💜💜Puppeee Anon

Wow, I really do have a hard-on for whipped & pining Yoongi, don’t I? 😬

Also, that prediction would be nice...if I didn’t want a touch of denial, a sprinkle of unrequited but totally requited feelings, and maybe add a full cup of pretty boys crying 😏

[octoberobserver]

I recently had a dream about a plot for a fic where reddie get a duck from mike on their wedding day and the note makes it seem like it’s meaningful to their relationship and they spend their whole honeymoon trying to figure out what the deep meaning of this duck is and it turns out stan and bev dared mike to do it to fuck w/ them and when i woke up i immediately was like SOMEONE HAS TO WRITE THIS and i immediately thought of you! (literally u don’t have to it’s just funny how i thought of you)

Hi Nonnie! This *probably* isn’t what you had in mind, but I hope you like it anyway ^_^ ♥️

Your Love Life’s DOA (read on ao3)

“...a chick.” 

“Pretty sure it’s a cock, dude.”

“It’s a chicken, asswipe. Cocks are roosters.” 

“Huh. And here I thought cocks were—”

“Don’t,” Eddie Kaspbrak held up his hands, cutting Richie Tozier off mid-terrible-joke. 

Richie just smirked, his eyes alight in a way that never failed to make Eddie’s stomach swoop.

“Cock, chicken, whatever it is,” he waved dismissively with the hand not cradling the miniature poultry, “it’s cute as fuck.”  

Eddie stared at Richie staring down at the (probable) baby chicken, warmth spreading across his chest. 

He only basked in the feeling for .2 seconds however as the irritation he had felt this morning when he opened the door to go grab their mail and nearly stomped on the little feather-ball, made a swift resurgence. 

“But why the fuck was it outside our door?”

“...”

“Richie.”

“...”

“Rich.” 

“...”

“Trashmouth!” 

Richie’s head snapped up from where he had been gazing down at the chick that looked comically small in his ridiculously large hand. 

Eddie’s treacherous stomach did an impressive (if annoying) front handspring. 

“I don’t know, Eds. Maybe it was meant for the butcher shop down the street. Or a petting zoo,” he tilted his head, looking pensive, “maybe it’s Erica Delaney getting her sweet revenge on me after I broke our egg-son in the first five minutes of class. Or it’s the chicken god’s gift to us to raise in his image, fucked if I know. All I do know is,” he shrugged, gently, with one shoulder as to not jostle the chirping baby bird, “we're definitely keeping it.” 

Eddie blinked.

“We can’t keep a chicken in the apartment, Richie.”

Richie’s eyebrows raised halfway up his expansive forehead.

“Why not? I own the building, and I say it’s all good for lil Chick-Fil-A to stay.”

“We’re not naming it after a homophobic chicken restaurant, dickwad.” 

A slow smile spread across Richie’s face that had Eddie’s pulse simultaneously racing and screeching to a halt. 

“...But we are keeping it?”

Fuck.

~*~

“Chicken Little?”

“No.”

“Chicken Run.”

“What?”

“Chick Flick.”

“Hell no.”

“Oh! Wait! I got it - Chicken Carbonara! Carbs for short.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“I agree,” Stanley Uris piped up as he meandered his way over to where Eddie and Richie (baby chick loudly making her presence known in his shirt pocket) were arguing at the sink, glass in hand, topping up Patty’s Merlot.

“You don’t have a horse in this race, Staniel,” Richie dismissed his input, gently running a finger over the chick’s fuzzy head, adopting a sickening sweet baby voice, “Isn’t that right, Carbs? Uncle Stan the Man wouldn’t know a good nickname if it kicked him in the face.” 

“Coming from the man called ‘Trashmouth.’” 

“Eds gave me that name, so blame him,” Richie quirked an eyebrow, elbowing the man in question. 

Eddie’s Chardonnay tipped dangerously close to the rim of the glass. 

Richie ignored his murderous glare. 

“Now all we need,” Richie beamed with pride as ‘Carbs’ gave another loud chirp from her cloth perch, “...is a duck.” 

Eddie winced, “You need to stop binge-watching Friends, Rich. Who are we, Joey and Chandler?” 

“Dibs on Chandler!”

Eddie rolled his eyes, gesturing up and down at Richie. 

“Well duh.” 

Richie merely smirked, tilting his head at him, “You’re definitely more of a Monica than a Joey, though.” 

“So in this scenario, you two are married?”

Both Eddie and Richie whirled around to blink at Stan who had attracted the attention of the rest of the Losers, each now awaiting some sort of response with rising interest. 

Eddie refused to give one. 

He also refused to look at Richie not give one. 

“Ooh we’re playing the Which Friends Character Are You game, huh?” Richie asked, stepping around Stan, eyes still focussed on the chick. 

Stan rolled his eyes, “There’s eight of us, it doesn’t work.” 

“Spoken like a true Ross.” 

Stan shook his head and sighed.

Like the Ross he was.

“Alright, I’m game,” Bev piped up, raising her glass from across the room, her eyes glinting at Richie. 

“Do your worst, Trashmouth.” 

Richie smirked, clearly tickled by the challenge. 

“Alright, Marsh,” he cleared his throat, beginning to pace the room like Columbo at the end of every episode, where he explained how he solved the whole damn case with nothing but a moved potted plant, “You’re Phoebe obviously, because you’re a fiery but lovable enigma who’s cooler than all of us combined.”

Bev chuckled, “Damn straight.”

“Haystack here,” Richie whirled around, cradling Carbs to his chest in one hand and pointing with the other, “is our Joey for his actor good-looks and lovable nature.” 

Ben sank down into the couch next to Bev, picking up her socked-feet and rubbing them, “I’ll take it.” 

Bev grinned, “I did always think Joey and Phoebe should’ve got together. Although Paul Rudd was great.”

“Which leads me to,” Richie turned to his left, smirking.

“Oh no,” Mike held up his hands, “count me out. Black people weren’t even a thing on Friends until like season 9 or whatever so—”

“Oh yeah, the diversity sucks ass Mikey, no one’s disputing that,” Richie agreed with a nod, “but hear me out. You’re Mike, Mike! A sexy, African-American Paul Rudd. Think about it...you may come in late in the game but you win everyone over instantly with your good looks, nerdy charm and wicked air-piano skills! Just like you did with the Losers Club!” 

Mike blinked, amused.

Stan tilted his head.

“I don’t think that’s exactly—”

“Same with Patty!” 

Richie cut Stan off, clearly on a roll, whirling around to point at his wife.

“It feels like she’s always been with us, right?” he asked the group at large, smile pleased when everyone nods in agreement, Bev winding an arm around her from where she was perched on the arm of the couch, causing Patty to flush and grin behind her wine glass at the compliment. 

“And you know who was always with the Friends? Always there, like an honorary 7th member? Or 8th in this case?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, not quite believing he was going to participate in this.

“Gunther.” 

Richie winked, “Gold star for Kaspbrak.” 

“She does make a mean Cappuccino,” Stan mumbled almost absentmindedly as Patty gave her charming snort-laugh, letting her head rest against her husband’s shoulder as he stood next to the couch. 

“Which leaves…”

Richie slowly turned on the spot, like the dramatic bastard he was. 

“Congrats, Bill. You’re Rachel. Our Jen Aniston. People are gonna start copying your hairstyle soon.” 

Bill chuckled, “Yeah, don’t think ‘The Bill’ has quite the same ring to it, Rich.” 

Richie gave a dismissive wave. 

“It’ll catch on. Then you’ll become a mega movie star and forget the rest of us exist. Except for Eddie, of course.”

Bill frowned.

“Why just Eddie?”

Richie threw him an exasperated look.

“Because he’s Monica! Courteney Cox. Best friend of Jen to this day. Duh.” 

“So you two are married, then?” 

Eddie felt his throat tighten as Richie squared his shoulders at Stanley, gently putting Carbs in her bed before huffing out a laugh.

“Nah man, we’re still in the friends-who-help-friends-give-their-dates-orgasms-in-seven-steps, stage.” 

Stan rolled his eyes.

“Right.” 

Eddie watched as the two friends stared at one another, a weird tension draping over them.

And in true Phoebe-style, Bev broke it.

“Hey, who wants to hear my Smelly Cat rendition?” 

Richie’s analysis was flawed, of course. Bill didn’t know jack about fashion (that was Bev), Ben built stages not performed on them, Stan actually loved, cherished and respected his partner, Patty wasn’t desperately in unrequited love with Bill (that was Mike, though it was requited), Mike wasn’t married to Bev (that was Ben) and Bev…

Well.

Bev was spot on, actually. A riddle, wrapped in an enigma, shrouded in mystery, all while being simultaneously cool and lovable. 

And Eddie?

He was Monica Geller and proud of it, dammit.

A damn shame Courteney never got the Emmy-nom, in his opinion. 

As for Richie?

Richie wasn’t Chandler Bing. Chandler Bing was Richie Tozier.

“If only they had let Chandler be gay,” Richie sighed wistfully as Eddie closed the door, waving off the last of their guests, Bill and Mike as they hopped in an Uber headed for Casa Denbrough. 

“Why? So you could fuck Ben instead?” 

Eddie knew how his voice sounded as he slowly leaned back against the door, reaching out to pull Richie towards him by his collar, crashing their lips together in a bruising kiss that he had ached for all night. 

Richie gasped into his mouth, his hands roaming Eddie’s body like a hyperactive octopus, pressing him back against the door and rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

Eddie groaned, breaking the kiss, staring up at his best-friend-turned-secret-boyfriend. 

“So, when do we tell them we hooked up at Ben and Bev’s wedding?” 

Richie chuckled, leaning down and pressing his lips against Eddie’s neck, right over the spot he knew drove him crazy, breathing hot against his skin. 

“Not until I ask Bill for his eyelash curler and Ben figures us out. Duh.”

~*~

They really should have been all fucked out after three weeks of eating, drinking, sleeping and sex-ing in Barbados, and yet, as soon as they got back to their apartment, they christened their old bed, their leaking shower and the living room floor because they just couldn’t get enough of each other.

Married.

They were fucking married.

Husbands. 

Legally bound.

Til death—

No, not even death could stop them. They proved that already.

“You’re heavy,” Eddie groaned, his chest vibrating under where Richie had his face squished against it. 

“It’s all the Barbadian food, dude. S’gone straight to my thighs.”

Eddie brushed his hand along said thigh, squeezing roughly.

“Hmm. I like your thighs.” 

“I like you.”

“You better. You’re kinda stuck with me now.”

Richie lifted his head off Eddie’s sweaty chest, smiling softly, interlocking their left hands, pressing their rings together. 

“Guess my love life isn’t D.O.A anymore, huh.” 

Eddie groaned, and not in the sexy way he had been five minutes before. 

“Those Friends references grew old in the nineties, dude. Stop.”  

Richie pecked at his lips, letting out a sound of disagreement. 

“I’ll have you know, Eds, I—”

The unmistakable sound of a knock echoed throughout the apartment. 

They blinked at one another.

“Who the fuck is that? No one knows we’re home yet.”

The post-Honeymoon-fuck had come (heh) above all - including texting the group chat that they had made it back safely onto California soil. 

Marriage had made them selfish like that.

Eddie shrugged, “I don’t know. Could be Rosa dropping off Carbs. I did tell her we’d be back today, and she might have like...sensed us. You know what she’s like.”

Rosa was their downstairs neighbour, a lovable, elderly woman who seemed to have had a sixth sense for everything Richie and Eddie-related even before they had become a couple, often calling them out for the pining bullshit before they got their act together, got tipsy at Benverly’s wedding and jumped each other. 

Or as Richie put it once - “She high-key ships us, man. Wants us to bone it out.” 

To this day, Eddie had no idea what that meant. 

Another knock came, this one louder.

“Alright, I’m coming,” Eddie called out, pushing a whining Richie off his chest before he could make the obvious joke and forcing himself to sit up, grimacing as the sheet stuck to his back. 

He’d have to be the one to answer. No way he was unleashing a half-naked Richie onto Mrs Hernandez. 

Eddie actually had the decency to pull on sweatpants and an old Trashmouth-tee before padding to the door.

He knew his husband did not.

Husband.

Eddie smiled to himself, his stomach doing its usual somersaults that he knew would never fully disappear. 

Richie Tozier, his lifelong best friend, was now his husband too. 

Crazy. 

“Sorry Rosa, we were—”

His incredibly made-up-on-the-spot excuse died on his lips as he opened the front door to reveal - nothing. 

Frowning, Eddie stared into the empty air, turning his head to glance down the very vacant hallway.

And then, he heard it.

Quack! 

“Oh, not again.” 

“Duck!” 

Richie said it like fuck.

Like he had been human-autocorrected.

“Yes, Richie, I see that,” Eddie sighed at his husband who had appeared over his shoulder, still shirtless, staring down at the baby duck sitting pretty in a box, much like Carbs had two years before.

“We’re not naming him Daffy,” Eddie grumbled, bending down to gently pick up the box, cradling the duckling against his chest and kicking the door shut.

Richie opened his mouth.

“Or Donald.” 

Richie closed his mouth. 

One quack called Donald was enough. 

“We’ll brainstorm,” Richie grinned, leaning down and capturing Eddie’s lips, before softly patting the new addition to their family on the head.

They’d find the note later. The one that read, 

To Chandler and Monica, 

You two were the last to find out.

Not Stan. 

Here’s a brother for Carbs.

We left her with you as a prank, for Richie’s Friends obsession, but you became the best dads ever instead. You’ll do it again. 

Just don’t get them stuck in the Foosball Table. 

~The Losers

[shijiujun]

history3 ep10 summary - POOR SHAO FEI AND TANG YI BB, this is what heartbreak looks like

I JUST ABOUT DIED. I DID. THE LAST PART WAS MAD - just this 30 seconds alone carried the entire fucking episode

We are at the halfway mark - Part of me doesn’t want it to end at all but I need to see the birthday cake and domestic scenes ASAP!! Currently I’m just enjoying the ride and so glad we get to see Chris and Jake and Andy and Kenny and everyone of those other hot and excellent actors in this show. I’ve never done a GIF or subtitled in all my years on tumblr before History3 - life changing this is what this show is and I’m so happy we’re all doing this together! Let’s make it through the halfway mark together omgosh excited guys!!!!!

Shopping scene with Shao Fei + Hong Ye: Hong Ye is telling SF to walk faster they go into a department store and she keeps changing clothes OMG LOL THEY ARE SO CUTE TGT!!! She wears smth with ruffles and then asks SF how it looks and then he’s like ‘why do u look like a seaweed’ and she’s like ‘who’s a seaweed you’re a seaweed’ and then she dances LOL and then LOL HE FELL ASLEEP WHILE SHOPPING WITH HER AND LOST HER omg Shao Fei seriously

They’re playing a game on the escalator this is the funniest shit and OF COURSE she brings him to a lingerie shop and omg Shao Fei so poor thing just sits there and OMG YAS HONG YE SISTER-BROTHER RIVALRY and she buys him UNDERWEAR and she’s like “hang on a second, this is too big for you, you need a smaller one” LOL BURN

Carpark/shooting scene: They’re almost like friends or something, although later after we see the hong ye and bodyguard ah de scene you’ll realise why she was speaking to shao fei like that (because she knew smth was going to happen and she thought everything was going to go to plan but who knew they were coming with guns) and anw, then the bullets start going off and shao fei protects her with all of his body like OH MY GOD - And wow the angle of the shot and how it struck SF is totally wrong and omggg this scene was faster than I thought JESUS CHRIST - is it just me or did Shao Fei get hit on the wrong side? Either they missed a scene or the bullet came from elsewhere

and then we get the scene of tang yi storming into the hospital and he goes straight for hong ye first, hugs her as she cries etc. and then hot doctor is there and when hot doctor is NOT SMILING  YOU KNOW SHIT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN - anyway, the nurse tells hot doctor that the surgery has been prepped, and then hot doctor nods and says ‘let’s go’ - and that’s when tang yi REMEMBERS AND LOOKS UP - “is that for meng shao fei?” And his look of absolute regret is ridiculous

and hot doctor just somberly nods 

Police chief STILL DOESNT KNOW THAT SHAO FEI HAS BEEN SHOT omg he’s going around doing his usual shit and everyone is clearing shit with him and fuck he misses shao fei so much I like that they finally show that shao fei is useful in the office and everyone is dependent on him and then suddenly Yu Qi turns up because she somehow got the call that shao fei is in the hospital

Oh goddddd Tang Yi’s face as he sits there AND LOL Dao yi (glasses guy) knows police chief quite well he called him Brother Bao, and tells him to calm down and they will take care of everything but POLICE CHIEF AINT HAVING NONE OF THAT BULLSHIT he pushes dao yi aside and this is one of the only times he can legit grab a mob boss by the neck and not get shot at after - police chief loves Shao Fei so much you can tell he totally lost it and Hong Ye genuinely feels bad and she’s saying sorry over and over to him as tang yi sits there catatonic - tang yi is totally quiet

also not sure if you guys caught it but the older guy in the investigative team, the one who always kind of says smth subtly bad about shao fei, he shot a look to bodyguard ah de when police chief was confronting tang yi in the hospital - they are totally up to something, corrupt police!!!!

The rest of the investigative team - LOL Zhao zi: “wow I’ve never seen police boss chief grab someone so much larger than him by the neck” - Yu Qi really likes Shao Fei, she’s crying by herself at the stairs and police chief is the one who’s standing by Shao fei’s door the moment he’s out of surgery and he scoffs “what ‘they’ll take care of everything’? the moment they heard shao fei was going to pull through they all left’- he tells zhao zi that they’ll start investigating who the fuck was behind the shooting and reminds them all to be careful

Captain Shi: “those who dare to touch any one from the investigative team, I’ll bring them all back to the police station!!!!”

OMG WE GET THE SCENE WHERE TANG YI IS HOTLY WALKING AND RIPPING OFF HIS JACKET AND OH JESUS CHRIST BRASS KNUCKLES?!!! Anw here’s the gem oh my god: Tang yi comes in where the culprit is already seated and he tells everyone to get the fuck out (OMG YOU KNOW HE MEANS BUSINESS) 

Ah De is like ‘boss, this is a small thing, let me do it’ - and he’s so damn insistent on interrogating the culprit himself even though tang yi is literally ready to set fire on the bitch you know and i’m like AH DE THAT IS SO NOT SMART YOU WANNA DIE?!

and well, we all called it - tang yi hears that and he’s like wtf and he gets mad, hauls bodyguard ah de off his feet and slams him against the wall and yells: “SMALL THING?! HE TOUCHED MY PEOPLE, AND YOU CALL IT A SMALL THING?!”

and bodyguard is like fuckkkk: “yes i’m sorry boss, i said the wrong thing, i’ll leave now”

and then he goes out and hovers by the door while tang yi puts on his brass knuckles and starts punching the dude who is yelling a bit like... not realistically HAHAHAHA - and omg Jack hit it right on the nail, he asked Brother De why he looks so worried and ‘jokingly’ asks, “why, do u know the person inside?” And Brother De is so angry and defensive - jack totally knows what is up

Brother de and Hong Ye meet up and here we find out that they ordered the hit on shao fei in a sense to get rid of him - they wanted to show tang yi that shao fei can’t protect anyone and then chase him away, but they were supposed to come teach shao fei a lesson with like wooden sticks and not guns - hong ye was a bit stunned by that as well and she asked ah de like wtf did you really want to kill me?! and ah de is like confused also, he doesn’t really know how the plan went wrong?! and hong ye is like, whatever, i will cooperate with you only up to here, if tang yi manages to get any answers, it’s all on you (like not cool hong ye, tang yi would totes forgive you if you just admitted it i think)

anyway, switch to the balcony scene with tang yi and jack, where jack asks who it was that ordered the hit, and tang yi says: “chen wen hao”

okay so my theory is that maybe chen wen hao really has smth to do with this - he kind of derailed the plan and changed it to legitly wanting to kil hong ye and shao fei (more hong ye than shao fei more likely) - but right now they dont know it they just think that they’re safe and their story checks out

Okay so Hong Ye and Dao Yi - Gosh she’s kind of a brat but I get where she’s coming from. anyway she leaves brother de and then dao yi is waiting for her in the carpark - the man knows he way better than she knows herself, and i think he knows that she had something to do with the shooting, but he didn’t say anything except to hint that she better leave shao fei up to tang yi and stop trying to interfere. hong ye is adamant that shao fei is a different kind of person from them, and dao yi is like: “that’s for the boss to decide. the way he treats him... shao fei is different to him”

OH MY GOD THANK YOU SOMEONE SAYING IT AS IT IS FINALLY NO MORE SUBTLE LOOKS AND SMILES SOMEONE SAID IT

and anw, hong ye manages to make this entire thing about her and how dao yi doesn’t love her - sister, i really get you and dao yi really needs to get his shit together, but srsly, a man just got shot for you because you were unhappy with his presence - and gosh unrequited (actually requited) love, but i get her in this part

but seriously, i get that she want shao fei out of the way but they way she did it was totally wrong, does she not know that tang yi is soft for him and cares for him like he has no one else before? she was willing to hurt him to make a point, and then ah de is - gosh dude get a grip

AND OMGGGGGG TANG YI’S FACE AS HE IS BY SHAO FEI’S BEDSIDE - this is what heartbreak looks like guys, he looks like he’s saying goodbye and his fucking expression - wow Chris did a fucking good job he totally looks heartbroken and as if shao fei died or smth, he’s holding his hand and air-tracing his nose and he looks like he’s going to cry - HE REALLY LOVES HIM GUYS - the emotion was really right on point

(and lol the chinese audience - they were scolding tang yi during the first part of the ep because he didn’t seem to have much of a reaction to shao fei’s injury and then when the last part came everyone went BATSHIT CRAZY)

what the fuck is going to happen next episode? i ask, but i know already - tang yi is getting ready to say goodbye to shao fei and push him away because he realised how dangerous it is for shao fei to be around him BUT OUR FAVE CHARACTERS WILL FIND SOME WAY TO BE TOGETHER AGAIN NO WORRIES I DOUBT THEIR BREAKUP WILL LAST MORE THAN AN EP

[winteriron-trash]

I’m Bad At Love (But You Can’t Blame Me For Trying)

A WinterIron plot bunny idea I had and wanted to get out because I’ve seen Hanahaki Disease floating around my dash for a bit, and I couldn’t give up a good idea what I had it. I don’t feel like it’s a fully fleshed out enough fic to post on AO3, but I just like the concept. Bad At Love by Halsey inspired the title because fuck Halsey and her feels. (the aesthetic is mine)

Tony was four, the first time he caught Hanahaki. Four. And if that weren’t sad enough in concept, it was even worse knowing it was from his father.

Tony had just built his first circuit board. Worked on it for weeks, which to a four-year-old felt like a world of time and energy. But he’d finished it. And it worked. He’d shown Jarvis first, and the reaction from his caretaker had been one that lit up Tony’s world. Tony was sure, oh he was so sure, if Jarvis had loved it so much, his father would have at least liked it a little bit. Sure, he’d always been a bit distant with Tony, but Tony had worked so hard. He’d worked so hard.

But when his little hands thrust the circuit board toward his father, almost as if it were an offering, big brown eyes wide with hope, the only response he got was his father raising a hand to him, sending Tony and the circuit board down tumbling to the ground with one strike. It was then, lying on the ground at his father’s feet, Tony coughed up his first flower. He was too young to even understand what it was supposed to mean, he only knew that when his father crushed the flower with his foot as he walked away from Tony, Tony’s chest ached.

After that, Tony was conservative with his love. It took him even weeks to accept love from Jarvis, too afraid of being pushed away again. He eventually got over it, but he was still too skittish to love someone new, for the time being.

The first time it was a romantic love, was with Rhodey. Rhodey was amazing in every way, and Tony couldn’t help fall for him. And sure, Rhodey loved him back, he’d made that very clear, but the pinched look on his face the first time Tony coughed up flowers when Rhodey mentioned he was straight said it all. Platonic love wasn’t enough. At least, for Tony.

But Tony convinced Rhodey he’d be able to get over it, and he was, eventually. It took months, Tony even considered surgery, but eventually, he did really feel happy for Rhodey when he saw him with some girl and stopped coughing up those damned flowers.

At his parent’s funeral, someone had once asked Tony how he felt. His only response had been to stare at his mother’s gravestone with a heavy heart, then choke up a mouthful of flowers. It made sense, he guessed. She couldn’t love him if she was dead. There were good reasons Tony was an atheist. No one, not even his mother, could love him beyond the grave.

Tony wasn’t even surprised when it happened with Pepper. After Rhodey, Tony had given up on trying not to fall in love. Most of his crushes went as quick as they came, one of the main reasons they were never requited, Tony supposed. He was just bad at love. He couldn’t seem to make it last. Going back and forth between coughing up flowers and not; until Tony didn’t even bother paying attention to who was the cause. They wouldn’t matter in a few weeks.

But Pepper’s had lasted so achingly long. So long that Tony actually forced himself to go through with the surgery, only because he couldn’t handle the disapproving looks from Pepper every time he coughed up petals around her. It hurt, not only physically to have the flowers removed, but also emotionally. To have one of his most lasting loves ripped from his heart, just because he couldn’t contain himself.

He was just bad at love.

With Steve, it had been surprising. At least to Tony, anyway. Tony thought he hated Steve, detested every inch of his being. And Tony supposed he did, in some ways. But for reasons that couldn’t seem to stick. At least not the way his love did.

It had startled both of them when Tony started coughing up flowers when Steve had snapped out some insult at him. The look of disgust on Steve’s face somewhat reminded Tony of Howard’s reaction. It did, even more, when Steve stormed out of the room, crushing petals that had fallen to the ground with his step.

After Steve, Tony decided he would never fall in love again. It was a vain promise, sure, but Tony vowed to follow it, even if it led him to the grave. He didn’t want to ever have to deal with a mouthful of flowers again. To him, that’s all that love was.

Maybe that was the real reason it took him so long to realize he was in love with Bucky.

Sure, Tony hit it off with Bucky. More so than anyone had predicted they would, all things considered. The lingering touches, the flirtings, the inside jokes, the sweet laughter at two am.

Natasha was the person to bring it up to Tony.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” She asked one night over coffee when it was much too late for either of them to be drinking coffee.

Tony glanced up. “Nat, I’ve been over Steve for almost a year now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not Steve. Bucky.”

Tony frowned. “Haven’t been puking up any petunias lately, so nope, don’t think so.”

“You’d only have Hanahaki if it was unrequited, Tony.” She sipped her coffee.

“I-what?” Tony paused, staring at her. “I don’t-James doesn’t-”

“Tony.” Natasha cut him off. “You’re the only person in this Tower who calls him by his first name, and I’m positive he’d punch anyone else who tried. And same goes for him calling you Anthony. You look at him like he’s your moon, he looks at you like your his sun. It’s ridiculous how sappy you both are.”

Tony stared at her. “I don’t…”

“Hush.” Natasha flicked his head. “Ask him out for coffee sometime.”

“I can’t do that.” Tony stared at her with impossibly wide eyes.

“Why not?”

Tony blinked. He supposed she had a point. But grasping the idea that he had a crush on Bucky was… it felt impossible. Tony was so used to love and Hanahaki being bound together for him, one couldn’t exist without the other. The idea that he loved Bucky was barely overshadowed by the realization that Bucky loved him back.

Bucky loved him. Someone loved Tony. For once in Tony’s life, someone returned the affection he was so used to burning and withering away inside of him.

For that reason, Tony was terrified. Terrified he might get over this crush on Bucky as quickly as he had his previous crushes, and he’d leave Bucky just as hurt as others had left him. Tony couldn’t do that to someone else. He just couldn’t. Maybe Tony was bad at love, but he had to try.

“Okay. I’ll ask him out for coffee sometime.”

[suits-of-woe]

so i made this post seven months ago and i wanted to do a follow-up on it just because it...kind of ended up consuming my life. basically, i wrote a novella that's essentially the modern retelling of this staging (with some pretty major plot and character liberties taken). i don't plan to do anything with it anytime soon/ever, it's just my garbage little passion project for me to go insane about with my friends, but i have been hyperfixating on this play possibly more than anyone ever should.

so just to have all my brainrot in one place, more thoughts i have had about two gents and queerness since losing my mind include:

i've only become more convinced that the correct way to play 1.1 is valentine just. absolutely heartbroken over proteus and struggling to force himself to move on, and proteus wanting to cling to him at all costs but unable to put into words why. it's usually done as so playful, but that's not how i want it. i want valentine on the verge of tears and saying his lines not as a cynic who doesn't believe in love but as someone who's been destroyed by it and knows exactly how much it hurts:

To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights: If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

"but that contradicts other scenes where valentine says he's never been in love" true but i simply do not care <3 plus it would make sense for valentine to pretend he's never been in love before, and/or for him to view his love for silvia, which is a much more positive thing for him and also possibly the first time he's fallen for a woman, as a very different experience.

come on. tell me this shit couldn't be fucking agonizing with the distraught unspoken unrequited-but-actually-requited-but-one-of-them-is-not-looking love of it all:

VAL: But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee, That art a votary to fond desire? Once more adieu! my father at the road Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.

PRO: And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.

VAL: Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave.

also can't BELIEVE i failed to mention in the first post that both valentine and julia call proteus "my loving proteus." HELLO??? SHAKESPEARE WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT BESTIE??

anyway. another thing that jumped out to me is that the dialogue between valentine and proteus in 1.1 and 2.4 makes it seem like proteus usually Will Not Shut Up about how much he loves julia, which makes this exchange between julia and lucetta very interesting:

JUL: Why he, of all the rest, hath never moved me.

LUC: Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.

JUL: His little speaking shows his love but small.

LUC: Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.

JUL: They do not love that do not show their love.

LUC: O, they love least that let men know their love.

it's possible that lucetta's right here and proteus talking a lot about his love for julia to valentine but barely at all to her is a sign of the strength of his love, but given how quickly proteus abandons her and how ridiculously pushy he is in pursuing silvia, who he also apparently loves, i think it's possible to view it in a different way. at least when retelling it, i took this as very performative heterosexuality on proteus' part – he won't shut up about it to valentine or anyone else so they know he's definitely not gay at all what are you talking about, but he's reluctant to actually pursue a real relationship with her for awhile because that's not actually what he wants. possibly not the best reading, but i think it's a possible one and it compels me.

speaking of which! i am also very interested in proteus' relationship with public perception. i feel like a lot of productions (by which i mean the one good rsc one and the handful of college performances i've skipped through on youtube because no one does this play) play proteus and valentine as kind of interchangeable until proteus reveals himself to be the worst man in the world, but when developing them for retelling purposes, i actually went the route of making the proteus character basically a golden boy in verona who has a lot of familial and societal expectations on him.

this speech by valentine in 2.4 could be interpreted as flattery/hyperbole (and i fully agree with @lizardrosen that it should be played as valentine forgetting himself a little and being pretty blatantly in love with him here) but if we take it at face value, there's a sense that he's the more accomplished of the two of them. and in 1.3, there's again a lot of emphasis on proteus as this bright young man who's throwing away his potential by staying in verona:

Nor need'st thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been hammering. I have consider'd well his loss of time And how he cannot be a perfect man, Not being tried and tutor'd in the world:

this isn't directly related to queerness, but i think it could be an interesting factor in why proteus is so resistant to acknowledging his attraction to valentine if he's got this perfect image to maintain. imo proteus coming from a family where his dad is pressuring him to live his life a certain way so he can become "a perfect man" could be insanity-inducing in this context.

moving on! i didn't talk about the first part of 2.4 in my initial post because it wasn't integral to my point, but it lives in my head rent free:

VAL: Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.

DUKE: Welcome him then according to his worth. Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio; For Valentine, I need not cite him to it: I will send him hither to you presently.

first of all, should i have wish'd a thing it had been he??? king PLEASE. secondly, re: that preceding valentine speech, i want to the duke's line to be played as the him being like "okay that was a little much buddy" which could be funny but also potentially sad if the duke suspecting valentine's queerness is a factor in how he treats him. oh man! and THEN we get my favourite valentine/silvia exchange in the whole play:

VAL: This is the gentleman I told your ladyship Had come along with me, but that his mistress Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.

SIL: Belike that now she hath enfranchised them Upon some other pawn for fealty.

VAL: Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still.

SIL: Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind How could he see his way to seek out you?

VAL: Why, lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes.

i said in the last post that silvia doesn't have to know about valentine being in love with proteus for this staging to work, and that's still true, but i really think it works so much better and makes this dialogue slap extra hard. "love hath twenty pairs of eyes" is so. bisexuality. i just think that bisexuality. and i think it would be fun to play this as silvia knowing and them kind of checking in before proteus arrives and acknowledging that it's possible to have feelings for more than one person at once and valentine is working on it. (silvia is also bi in the retelling because she deserves it and i do what i want. so is julia. love them <3)

as for the latter part of 2.4. man. i don't think i have that much new commentary to offer on specific lines but working with it more just emphasized the fact that there's really nothing in the conversation between valentine and proteus that doesn't work if proteus is really, really jealous of silvia and pissed off about it. he's so bitter holy shit.

also re: that proteus soliloquy, i already pointed out how insane it makes that proteus is constantly equating his love for julia and silvia with his love for valentine, and that he has a line that's straight-up "maybe i just love silvia because of how valentine talks about her" but i also think these lines have potential to be played as like. peak denial:

Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold, And that I love him not as I was wont. O, but I love his lady too too much, And that's the reason I love him so little.

proteus voice i'm definitely not pissed about valentine being in love because i love him, in fact i'm actually in love with silvia and i don't love him at all anymore. wow i hate this man. i want to dissect his brain.

i think those are my main new thoughts? 3.1 does make me ten times more batshit insane in the context of this reading because the potential of proteus being the one to comfort valentine while also betraying him just drives me fucking crazy especially if he's in love with him and trying to pretend he's not. like this last moment of tenderness between them that maybe proteus allows himself only because he's gotten valentine banished and will now not have to deal with confronting his feelings for him anymore. h.

"so do you know what you'd do with the ending now?" well. not really. the perk of writing a retelling instead of doing a production is that i can throw out shit i don't like with reckless abandon, so i still don't know how i would deal with valentine forgiving proteus because retelling valentine doesn't forgive proteus, just what i said in the last post – a recognition of how desperate he is in this moment and how much he hates himself for still caring after everything. and i still very much stand by that reading of thee line but it doesn't really track with the whole double wedding ending. so.

ultimately i think my thoughts on how two gents should be performed or adapted are somewhat distinct from my thoughts about how two gents as a complete text should be analyzed. if you have university access, this is a very interesting academic article about queerness in the play that's very different than the way i would want it done onstage but still super interesting and compelling. but this play mostly sucks and i think i am allowed to fuck around with it in ways that shakespeare did not intend because he revoked his rights to it by making it Like That. sorry king, it's my shitty comedy-that's-actually-a tragedy now.

can you do a gay two gentlemen of verona?

(aka the post where i try to find some emotional coherence in the worst line in the canon)

well. can you do a gay two gentlemen of verona?

a. yes

b. but should you?

honestly, i'm really not sure. this play is bad. really, really bad. i assume most people reading this post know how it ends, but let's just be crystal clear: (cw rape) proteus, one of our supposed romantic heroes, tries to rape silvia after she rejects his advances. valentine stops him, but after proteus apologizes, valentine, our other hero and silvia's love interest, offers to give silvia to the man who just tried to rape her in an act of friendship.

so no, i don't think this interpretation (or any interpretation) can make that moment okay. even if it somehow could, it's just one moment, and misogyny is baked into almost every part of this play. and no, i absolutely do not mean to suggest that interpreting characters as gay can be used to excuse any of this, or that gayness is somehow an explanation for violent misogyny.

that said, we live in a world where this play exists. people talk about it and write about it and perform it fairly frequently, and since that's not changing any time soon, i do think it can be worthwhile to see what we can do with it. my interest is not in sanitizing anything but in creating some emotional coherence out of something that just feels nonsensical at first glance.

phew. so. can you do a gay two gentlemen of verona? does it actually make the play more compelling? i think it could.

you really don't have to look that far for homoeroticism in this play. i mean jesus, the first line is valentine calling proteus "my loving proteus." we get shit like this, which feels like it's just begging to be played as tender unrequited love:

PRO: [...] If ever danger do environ thee, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.

VAL: And on a love-book pray for my success?

PRO: Upon some book I love I'll pray for thee.

individual lines aside, the whole first scene is just...a lot. proteus has clearly been begging valentine not to leave and trying to delay their parting as long as possible. valentine makes it very clear that he wants proteus with him and he wouldn't be leaving without him if it weren't for the fact that proteus is in love. it's all just very...yeah.

so here's the interpretation i think works best: proteus and valentine are in love. they have been for a long time. valentine is aware of it. proteus isn't. he's deep, deep in denial, fixating on julia to avoid the feelings that are harder to acknowledge. and valentine's decided it's finally time to stop waiting around and let go.

so valentine goes to milan. he starts to move on. he finds genuine love with silvia (valentine is definitely bi in this interpretation), and maybe she's not proteus and he's not quite over the situation, but they're good for each other and they're happy. at least, until proteus shows up.

and proteus takes one look at valentine and silvia together and hates it. he's instantly very, very upset by that relationship, even if he can't quite put his finger on why. there's even a line where he wonders if his fixation on silvia is specifically because of the way valentine talks about her:

Is it mine, or Valentine's praise, Her true perfection, or my false transgression, That makes me reasonless to reason thus?

but it's because he loves silvia. obviously. that's the source of that jealousy. no need to investigate that any further.

and valentine is too easily falling back into old habits. we get shit like this from him:

Forgive me that I do not dream on thee, Because thou see'st me dote upon my love.

forgive me that i do not dream on thee? hello?????

meanwhile, proteus is having his own crisis. mostly about how he's betraying both julia and valentine through this, and hm, isn't it weird how those betrayals feel like the exact same thing? i mean

To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn; To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn

the exact

Julia I lose and Valentine I lose: If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; If I lose them, thus find I by their loss For Valentine myself, for Julia Silvia.

same

I will forget that Julia is alive, Remembering that my love to her is dead; And Valentine I'll hold an enemy, Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.

THING???

then we get to the part of the play that i think needs the least interpretation, because it's basically just the same. proteus is still proteus and proteus is still awful to everyone around him, just this time with the added context of all those layers of denial. valentine is still devastated to leave silvia, because he does love her, and she's the first positive force in his life in so long, and he was just starting to try to move on.

side note: ymmv with regards to silvia, she doesn't have to be in the know for this interpretation to work, but i think it works better if valentine has confided in her about proteus, at least if we want a chance at an ending that doesn't feel like pure tragedy. she knows what he's going through, knows proteus isn't good for him, and is trying to help him get past that. i think it could make the way she berates proteus for betraying valentine extra compelling, because she knows how desperately valentine cares for this man who didn't think twice before ruining his life.

and then we get to. the scene. proteus, at this point, is desperate and volatile in his obsession with control. he's convinced himself that if he just has silvia, that will be it, and he'll finally be happy. and thank god, thank god valentine is there to stop him. but valentine is also seeing his friend for the first time in a long time, and he still has this weak spot that never fully went away, and even with the absolute horror of the situation, proteus is there and proteus is apologizing and there's still a part of valentine that wants so desperately to forgive him.

Then I am paid; And once again I do receive thee honest. Who by repentance is not satisfied Is nor of heaven nor earth, for these are pleased. By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeased: And, that my love may appear plain and free, All that was mine in Silvia I give thee.

this line can't not be appalling, but this is the only way i can see it making sense to me. it's not an actual offer, it's more just a recognition of how desperate valentine is in this moment, how much he hates himself for still caring after everything. this line spat out through angry tears, as in "fine, fine, take her if you really want her so badly, if she's really the one you care about, because for me it's always been you, so fine, take her if you really just want to take everything from me."

as for the ending, i really don't know. maybe there's a long moment when valentine and proteus hug, or almost kiss, or even just stare at each other, and maybe it seems like proteus finally gets what he's been denying the entire time.

and then proteus' page faints. the moment is broken. and then it all comes out, and face to face with julia, proteus slides right back into that comfortable denial.

i think you could maybe make the valentine/silvia ending work, if you set it up well enough. if she understands what he's been going through the whole time and is willing to forgive him, to try to move on and heal from this man who's hurt them both so much. it's messy and upsetting but maybe it's enough.

on the other hand, though, i don't know how you could preserve that emotional coherence without cutting at least some of the lines from this mess of an ending. i really don't know how you make proteus and julia getting together again anything other than horrifying. maybe you cut that part. maybe you lean into the horror. maybe- WHAT'S THIS? IT'S CRAB WITH A STEEL CHAIR

all that to say, i don't think this (or anything) can really "fix" two gentlemen of verona. and if i'm conveniently disregarding a lot of lines in favour of finding a story that i hate a bit less, well, here we are. but i do think this version could potentially make something compelling out of shakespeare's greatest trainwreck.

[tipsorrtricks]

One Sided Love Sayings and Quotes

It burns to love someone who doesn’t love you the same. Love that is not returned is not love. Give yourself enough time to grieve and process, but don’t stay in a rut. Down you’ll find a series of our best wise and insightful one-sided love quotes. 

ENJOY!!

“

Even if you tear me to pieces or even if you reduce me to ashes, I would still go back and give you my heart.     

Anonymous

“

Also, read “How to Handle Unrequited Love in marriage?”

The hardest thing to do is watch the one you love, love someone else.     

Poise

“

You can sacrifice and not love. But you cannot love and not sacrifice.     

Kris Vallotton

“

Break my face, my back, my arms, my neck. But please don't break my heart.     

Sarah Bettens

“

What nobody seems to understand is that love can only be one sided, that no other love exists, that in any other form it is not love. If it involves less than total giving, it is not love. It is impotent, for the moment it is nothing.     

Andrei Tarkovsky

“

It hurts when you have someone in your heart but you can't have them in your arms.     

Belinda Hernandez

“

Maybe I was destined to forever fall in love with people I couldn't have. Maybe there’s a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for me to find them. Waiting to make me feel the same impossibility over and over again.     

Carol Rifka Brunt

“

Unrequited love is a ridiculous state, and it makes those in it behave ridiculously.     

Cassandra Clare

“

I did not know how long it took to get over such a love, and that even when you did, when you loved again, you would always carry a sliver of it in your stitched together heart.     

Christina Haag

“

Unrequited love is the infinite curse of a lonely heart.     

Christina Westover

“

Yet my longing for her was like a bad cold that had hung on for years despite my conviction that I was sure to get over it at any moment.     

Donna Tartt

“

Desiring another person is perhaps the most risky endeavor of all. As soon as you want somebody really wants him, it is as though you have taken a surgical needle and sutured your happiness to the skin of that person, so that any separation will now cause a lacerating injury.     

Elizabeth Gilbert

“

Unrequited love does not die, it’s only beaten down to a secret place where it hides, curled and wounded. For some unfortunates, it turns bitter and mean, and those who come after pay the price for the hurt done by the one who came before.     

Elle Newmark

“

Some say that one sided love is better than none, but like half a loaf of bread, it is likely to grow hard and moldy sooner.     

Eric Berne

“

To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.     

Federico García Lorca

“

Sometimes it’s better to keep silent than to tell others what you feel, because it hurts badly when you come to know that they can hear you, but they can't understand.     

Heinrich Ferreira

“

Waiting for you is like waiting for rain in the drought which was useless and disappointing.     

Himanshu Chate

“

Let no one who loves be called altogether unhappy. Even love unreturned has its rainbow.     

J.M. Barrie

“

Because what’s worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?     

James Patterson

“

You can't fix yourself by breaking someone else.     

Jay Payleitner

“

I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were raining, I was drizzling and it was a hurricane.     

John Green

“

You like someone who can't like you back because unrequited love can survive in a way that once requited love cannot.     

John Green

“

Isn't that how falling in love so often works? Some stranger appears out of nowhere and becomes a fixed star in your universe.     

Kate Bolick

“

It’s kind of funny how someone can break your heart, and you can still love them with all the little pieces.     

Kuhhrizma Clemons

[langedeversailles]

Ok about your dad: Does Philippe like Palatine too or is my entire thing? And why Chevy is so jealous of her, if the Philippe´s heart is his? he seems more jealous of Palatine than of he was ever with Henriette wasn´t he?

So I’ve said like 50 times that I’m going to watch Season 2, but… I have not watched season 2 yet. Partly because I want to wait until it is out on Netflix, and partly because I am Scared of the Chevy Feels™. Mostly the latter. 

HOWEVER, thanks to Tumblr I know the gist of season 2 already. So I’m going to answer this ask with my thoughts and feelings on this based on what I know now, and then after I see season 2, I’ll come back and answer it again. 

I feel like my dad (Philippe) does like her, but it was the type of liking that had to grow. I think with everything surrounding their relationship before they even met, he had a lot of negative emotions associated with her (arranged marriage by his brother against his true wishes, a marriage to a woman in general, everything that would come with this marriage, how it all went with Henriette, etc). However, I think over the course of season 2 he develops a respect for her and grows to like her. I don’t think it’s sexual or romantic. I think Philippe will grow to love her, but it will be a friendship love. 

Now as for my papa (Chevy), there is someone who answered the chevy being jealous question very well but my mind is blanking on who exactly that was. But to recap: Henriette was safe because he knew exactly where he fit in with that relationship and had the utmost confidence that Henriette could NEVER replace him in Philippe’s heart. Chevy is jealous of Palatine because he is actually very insecure, and he loves Philippe so much that he can’t handle the possibility of losing him. He is terrified that Philippe will stop loving him and love her instead. Utterly ridiculous, of course. But Chevy can’t exist without Philippe because Philippe is his everything, so his insecurities make him fucking terrified of that and he gets horribly jealous. It comes from a place of unbelievable love for Philippe and a need to deep for that to be requited that he could not live in a world where that is unrequited and he loses his soulmate, his everything.

~~~~ sorry for the super late response, Tumblr has decided not to notify my when I get an ask apparently so I had no idea this was in my inbox! Thanks for the question! I love talking about my dads~~~~

Update: @versaillesao3's two cents on the answer to the jealous chevy bit is what I was referring to