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taurusdaylight · 2 years

Text

heart is lost and lonely, but with you there’s forever only

summary. fumbling between racing tracks and loving kisses, the hopeless romantic in jeong jaehyun still remains hopeful in the promise that forever brings to him, and to you.

pairing. street racer boyfriend! jaehyun x implied fem college student! reader

genre. street racer! au, second chance love, fluff, angst with happy ending

word count. 5,394

warnings/tags. somewhat toxic relationship, suggestive content (making out, no smut), separation/breakup, haechan makes a cameo, and the story is mostly jaehyun-centric

a/n. hi i'm back! this idea came to me after i watched the forever only mv and i knew i had to write it so here it is :) i literally dropped everything, including my current wip lol. anyway, please give lots of love to jaehyun’s first solo song, forever only, and i hope you enjoy reading this too!

–

It’s another sleepless night without you, and all that plagues Jaehyun’s mind is the scent of your warmth on his blanket, but the cold and empty side of the bed that you used to occupy is a glaring and painful reminder that you’re no longer here with him.

He turns over to his side, and with soulless eyes, he stares at the clock on his bedside table, wondering how it is possible for time to move so slowly. He’d been trying to fall asleep since eleven, and even though only two hours went by, it somehow feels much longer than that, hours passing by in a minute. He’s tired, but he’s unable to shut down his mind that’s filled with thoughts of you.

He yearns to feel your soft touch against his skin, holding you close in his arms as the both of you sleep the night away until daylight comes. He’ll always be the first to wake up, quietly getting out of bed to draw the curtains so that the white rays of the morning sun won’t disrupt your slumber. Then, he’ll return to his spot next to you, tracing his fingers along your delicate features that he already knows like the back of his hand, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. Jaehyun could never get enough of waking up to you, but if back then he knew that it was something that came with an expiry date, perhaps he would have cherished those moments more.

Still wide awake, Jaehyun gives up trying to fall asleep. He pulls his blanket aside, getting up to grab his keys, slinging his black leather jacket over his shoulder.

In the past, you used to tell him off for going out late at night to ride his motorcycle whenever he couldn’t sleep. You’ve made it clear that you respect how he has to take part in competitions, but that aside, you weren’t really fond of him riding his bike at other times simply because you couldn’t bear the anxiety of waiting for him to come home without any injuries. He’s not much of a reckless driver, but sometimes the adrenaline gets to him and that’s when it becomes dangerous. It’s a bad habit that he’d promised to get rid of after you voiced out your worries, but it’s not something that he can change overnight, notwithstanding that it is also an escape from reality for him.

At the very least, Jaehyun doesn’t have to come home today with the fear of letting you down. Again.

–

You didn’t exactly want to be here tonight, but Haechan insisted that you come along because according to him, you spend way too much time cooped up in your room and you ought to be out and about meeting more people.

And he’s arguably right about that. You see, the two of you have been housemates for almost two years, renting a shared apartment close to your college. And in the time that you’ve known him, it is always Haechan who informs you that he’ll be out till late, or that he’ll be inviting a few friends over to drink. It isn’t like those large-scale frat parties, but it still doesn’t take away the fact that he’s a huge social butterfly, considering how it’s always a new friend group that comes over each time.

Compared to Haechan, however, you’re more reserved and value the time that you have to yourself. Awkwardly greeting his friends and excusing yourself to your room whenever they come over, most of your nights are spent reading a book or watching old films. Even if you have nothing particularly special to do, you don’t mind at all.

But it is apparent that he has other plans for you tonight, practically dragging you to a secluded race track that’s outside of the city.

“Is it like… illegal?” you ask, keeping your voice low and looking around to make sure that no one heard you even though they probably know more about this than you do.

Haechan isn’t in the mood to race, so he joins you as a spectator tonight. You’ve often heard stories from him but never pried too much, partly because you’re not all that interested, and also because it didn’t seem like something he would openly share about. There’s hardly any lighting except the street lamps lined up along the road, and not to be stereotypical, but the eccentrically colourful outfits that the racers had on made everything seem more dubious.

Haechan throws his head back in laughter at your question. “Stop being so serious!” he says, landing a smack on your shoulder, and it makes you relax a little. “It’s kind of complicated but I promise it’s safe. It’s been going on for decades.” He leans into your ear, whispering, “And if you win, the money is seriously no joke.”

Your eyes go wide at his words, turning silent immediately. Kind of complicated, so it is illegal after all. You won’t admit it out loud, but it piques a sudden interest in you, and you’re somewhat grateful that Haechan brought you along. After all, it’s not every day you get to be a part of something like this, right?

Another question comes to your mind and because you can’t hold back your curiosity, you ask Haechan again, “So who's the best racer?”

“Jeong Jaehyun,” Haechan answers at once, jerking his head in the direction of the race track, and you do the same, but it’s difficult to see because of the dim lighting, or lack thereof. You can vaguely see the outline of his figure, sitting in an upright position on his motorcycle. “He came over before, not sure if you remember?”

Before you get to answer Haechan, a thunderous sound reverberates around the area, drowning out everyone’s voices. Their attention turned towards where the sound was coming from, whiffs of exhaust blast out from Jaehyun’s motorcycle as he starts the engine. Night light flashing, it allows you to get a better view of him.

Unlike the other racers, he’s dressed in full black. Long hair slicked back, the ash brown shade looks incredibly flattering on him, creating a sleek and chic look that really brings out his chiselled features. It’s also hard to ignore the immaculate fit of the leather jacket that he has on, accentuating his already broad shoulders. Completing his outfit with silver accessories, Jaehyun looks undeniably… hot. Everything about him screams heart-throb love interest that came straight out of a romcom movie set in the 90s. And now, even something as simple as watching him put his helmet on, you think that he may be the most attractive person you’ve seen in your entire life.

Thinking back to Haechan’s question, you more or less recall seeing Jaehyun over at your shared apartment before, but it’s almost a blur. He’d invited a few of his racer friends, and they were gathered in a circle playing truth or dare. And because you were so focused on escaping into your room that you mumbled a quick hi to all of them, barely getting a glance of Jaehyun for five seconds maximum, which probably explains why you never noticed how good-looking he is until now.

“Let’s go, Jaehyun!” Haechan shouts from next to you, and for a split moment, you instinctively put a hand up to cover your ear, startled. He’d always been an outspoken individual, but you still get shocked at how loud he gets.

Jaehyun looks towards Haechan’s direction, gesturing a thumbs-up before putting his hand back on the handle. Then, ever so slightly, he turns, gaze landing on you. It suddenly makes you feel small, the way he’s just looking at you, and you’re slightly thankful that he has his helmet on because you don’t think you’d know how to act if you were to directly look him in the eye.

Giving Jaehyun a polite smile, he nods back at you in return. The first to break eye contact, he turns his head back to the front, aligning his body to the centre of his bike.

Blazing trails of the sparklers light up the night sky, signalling the start of the race. The place is filled with cheers and screams from the audience, but all is blocked out because you can only focus on a particular someone. Eyes boring into his back, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in until he was completely out of your sight, speeding through the darkened tunnel.

True to Haechan’s words, Jaehyun is the first to make it past the finishing line that night, effortlessly defending his champion title with his opponents far behind – they didn’t stand a chance at all, if you had to be completely honest. He was also not lying about the money, and you couldn’t even hide your shocked expression as you watch Jaehyun stash stacks and stacks of cold, hard, cash into his bag.

What you don’t expect, however, is Jeong Jaehyun pulling up to the side of the road where you and Haechan were standing.

He removes his helmet, raking his fingers through his hair, your heart rate increasing by the second at the sight of it. Looking at you with a smug grin on his face, he asks, “Need a ride home, sweetheart?”

–

Needless to say, you took up Jaehyun’s offer. To be specific, you said yes in a heartbeat, and you’re not ashamed of it at all. Haechan, on the other hand, stood there with his mouth agape, whining about how you stole his ride home (you didn’t, but complaining happens to be his favourite pastime). Jaehyun gives Haechan a dismissive wave of his hand to shoo him away, and he takes it as his cue to leave.

Jaehyun gets up from his bike, takes his spare helmet, and carefully puts it on your head. Tall frame towering over you, he bends down to meet your eye level so that it’s easier for him to adjust the strap of the helmet. Between feeling the ghost of his touch over your chin and being so physically close to him that you get a clear view of his long and pretty lashes, you’re not sure which one is more lethal, but it surely is making you feel things and you can hardly calm down your beating heart.

“There we go,” Jaehyun buckles the strap, emitting a click sound. He goes back to standing up straight, smiling in satisfaction once he sees that it’s secure.

“Thank you,” you say with a shy smile, looking everywhere but at Jaehyun when you feel his gaze on you. He pats your head, motioning for you to hop on after he’d settled down on the front seat of his bike.

Trying your hardest not to make any sort of physical contact with Jaehyun, you lean back as much as possible after you’re seated, arms remaining at your side as you’re uncertain about where you should place them. You consider holding on to the side of the seat, but you’re also afraid that you will somehow fly off his bike since it isn’t a very safe and viable option.

Your predicament is interrupted by Jaehyun’s touch, his hands grabbing your forearms to bring them in front, circling them around his waist. Your chest pressed against his firm back, your protest is silenced by the sound of the running engine, Jaehyun not giving you a chance to even pull back.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

–

Contrary to the cold exterior that he puts up, Jaehyun has a warm and romantic side to him that only comes out whenever he’s with you. Sweet with his words and actions, he never misses any opportunity that he has to shower you with compliments, often sneaking in a kiss or two while he’s at it too. Your heart never stops fluttering because of him, and honestly, you don’t want it to stop either. Every day you spend with him is a different adventure, and you fall in love with him more and more.

Above all, you love watching Jaehyun race. Fire in his eyes, his confident demeanour transforms him into an entirely different person. Jaehyun knows the sport inside out, and he never fails to let that part of him shine through, never fails to make you feel proud of him. Heart swelling with pride whenever he makes it back to the finishing line first, Jaehyun is always rewarded by your warm kisses at the end of races.

Because of him, you also know the most random facts about street racing, like how it’s only safe to ride his bike when the temperature is above fifteen degrees. And that even at a suitable temperature, he’d still have to warm up the tyre with some kind of special tool. He once brought you to the workshop to demonstrate it, and even though you don’t really know what he’s talking about, you still find yourself getting lost in him, the way he’d blabber on so passionately. This is just one of the many sides of Jaehyun that you hold near and dear to you.

Other days that you spend with him are mostly captured on film. Carrying his point-and-shoot 35mm Leica Minilux wherever he goes, your racer boyfriend happens to have a knack for photography too. The recurring image of Jaehyun taking pictures is something that you’ve grown to adore, and it is almost endearing to you. It is even more exciting when he goes to develop his film rolls, because you’ll be the first person that he runs to, showing you how well they turned out. And it’s always pictures of you that he claims to be his favourite shots.

On the topic of film cameras, he also mentioned before that this is one of his most treasured items, and how he doesn’t ever plan on switching it for another one – that’s just how precious it is to him. More than that, however, what surprised you more was Jaehyun comparing you to his film camera.

“You’re my first and last,” he said, throwing his dark blue denim jacket around you because it had turned chilly. A small part of you wanted to gag at his words, purposefully showing how cringe it was, but you decided against it. Because Jaehyun’s hazel brown eyes carry a sense of softness to them, showing you how serious he was about it. So you settle for a kiss against his cheek instead, making it known to him that you shared the same sentiment.

–

Hand intertwined with yours, you and Jaehyun sit side by side to admire the soft waves crashing against the shore, evening breeze passing by.

He turned up at your house earlier this afternoon and said that he really wanted to take you somewhere. He kept the location a secret and refused to reveal any details. Even during the ride here, he didn’t give in and merely told you that it was near.

Turns out, it’s a beach that he visits whenever he wants to be alone. Something like a secret spot, he said, and now he wants to share it with you.

“But if you want to be alone, then why did you bring me here?” you tilt your head in confusion.

“People say that being alone and being lonely are two different things,” Jaehyun says, solemn eyes musing on the water. “But for me, I feel lonely when I’m alone and I don’t like it.” You frown at his sudden revelation. Jaehyun rarely opens up about his emotions to you, so you never knew that he felt this way.

“There’s no reason for me to be alone now that I have you,” he continues, tightening his grip around your hand, and you offer him a reassuring smile. “And maybe with you here, this lonely feeling will start to disappear too.”

At his words, you put your head on Jaehyun’s shoulder, leaning closer to his side. The both of you turn to look at the beautiful view of the sunset, golden hues of the beams painting the sea, coastline and sky merging into one.

“This is our place now,” you say.

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

–

For a period of time, Jaehyun truly believed that he could spend forever with you. Not that he didn’t believe it now, but he was definitely starting to lose hope. Maybe it’s just how life works, but like the ocean waves that come and go, it seems like the good times that the both of you shared with each other are starting to waver. And he wonders if the calm after the storm will ever return again.

Over the past few weeks, you and Jaehyun have continuously fought with each other, and it’s to the extent that the both of you could not stand being in the same room for more than five minutes without starting another argument, even though the previous one hadn’t been solved yet.

Most of these fights ended with Jaehyun pressing your bodies together against the wall, his tongue slipping into your parted lips. One hand cupping your cheek and the other playing with the hem of your shirt, he kisses you with fervent need from not being able to touch you whenever he wants to. And you let him, your body reacting to his touches, kissing him back just as much. Because no matter how unhealthy this vicious cycle of fighting and patching things up was, it is undeniable that the both of you can’t live without each other.

But how far is too far?

For some reason, Jaehyun still feels you slipping away from him. Half-hearted replies, not seeing each other for days, you stopped coming for his matches too. The distance between the both of you getting bigger and bigger, he doesn’t know how to pull you back into him.

It’s true that both parties need to put in the effort to make the relationship work, but it feels even worse on his part because he knows that he’s the reason you two are growing apart.

As a racer, ordinary days are out of the question for him. And even though you seemed to like the thrill of that at the beginning, it is obvious that it is starting to take a toll on your relationship instead.

Jaehyun loves you. Truly, madly, deeply. He’s not the type of person to randomly date around in order to fill up an empty void in his life, but the second he saw you, his friend’s cute housemate who’d just returned home from a full day of classes, he immediately knew that there was something different about you, and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Yet, he couldn’t just give up on racing because for years, it was the only thing that brought him solace and comfort, until you came along, of course. Still, he didn’t want to have to choose between you or racing. Because as selfish as it sounded, he wanted both.

Which is why Jaehyun constantly reassured you that he would not drive recklessly, that he would safely come home to you every night. But even that wasn’t enough to alleviate your worries. Because one way or another, the fight would gradually escalate into something else, like how it wasn’t a sustainable job and he’d had to eventually give up racing.

Jaehyun was tired. He thought that you’d understand him, but he also knew that it wouldn’t be easy dating someone like him, and that it wasn’t fair to you too. So the day you finally gave up and packed your things, he didn’t stop you from leaving him and only asked to kiss you one last time.

Even till this day, he can’t stop the memories of you from haunting him, and when they do, he wishes for another chance to try again.

–

“What is he doing here?” you shriek, and it seems like you’ve asked the wrong person because haechan looks just as confused as you are. He shrugs his shoulders, not doing anything to help your panicked self.

Jeong Jaehyun is standing a few tables away from you and getting himself a drink. Adorning the same silver accessories that he puts on daily, he’s wearing a white tank top that exposes his toned arms, along with a pair of black slacks that he really loves. Seeing your boyfriend, no, ex-boyfriend of two years after eight months, you don’t know how you’re supposed to feel. It may be the alcohol, but you want to shout at him to get out even though it’s neither your party nor your house, but you also really want to kiss him. God, he’s such a good kisser, nobody could ever compare, not that you kissed anyone else when the both of you weren’t talking to each other.

But you still don’t know why Jaehyun is here. This was a college mixer party, meaning, you could only get in if you had an invitation, or if you knew someone via connections. He wasn’t even a student. And the only two people that Jaehyun knew from your college were you and Haechan.

… And Haechan.

Of course it was him, that would make the most sense. Directing your attention back to your housemate, you didn’t even notice him wandering off to somewhere else, blending in with the rest of the crowd while you were getting distracted by Jaehyun’s appearance. You’ll get him later at home, for sure.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says, and it stirs up all sorts of unexplainable feelings within you, you feel like you're about to explode. How did he get here so fast? Turning to the voice, you greet Jaehyun back, a stoic look on your face.

He clears his throat, voice faltering upon seeing your expression. “Can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You stand up, wanting to get far away from him because you know that your walls would come crumbling down if you stayed around him any longer.

Jaehyun holds out a hand to your wrist, but swiftly retreats when he feels your body stiffen. He mutters a quick apology. “It won’t take long, please?”

Sighing, you nod in defeat, following him out of the house. All those weeks of trying to convince yourself that you’ll get over Jeong Jaehyun, your efforts have been rendered useless after seeing him in the flesh, his existence reminding you once again that you’ll always feel something for him, whatever that may be.

–

You should not be sitting on Jaehyun’s bike, your chest positioned close to his torso. But the porch is dirtied with someone’s puke all over it, so you don’t exactly have a choice.

“How have you been?” you’re the first to speak.

Jaehyun hesitates a little before answering, “I’m okay.”

He clearly isn’t.

Tired eyes and dark eyebags, it doesn’t take a genius to see that Jaehyun hasn’t been sleeping well, and your heart breaks a little at that. It could be because of the late night races, it could be because of you. Either way, it hurts to see him in this state. But because you’re no longer in a position to be caring so much about him, you feign ignorance and take his word for it.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

“I think I’ve made myself clear the last time, Jae.” The nickname accidentally slips out, but you try not to think much about it and hope Jaehyun doesn’t as well. “It’s not going to work out.”

“I missed you,” he confesses, bringing his large hand up to caress your cheek, completely ignoring what you said. “Tell me you missed me too.”

“I–” you take in a sharp breath, tears forming in your eyes as it suddenly hits you how long it’s been since you were this close to him, his gentle touch on your skin. “I missed you too,” you give in. Placing your hand atop his, a tingling sensation washes over your body.

Has it always felt this way, or is it because the two of you have been in separation for such a long time? When you tried to forget about him, moving on proved to be a difficult task because you always ended up reminiscing about Jaehyun and the memories you had with him. You fear that you’ll forget the crinkles by his eyes that form whenever he smiles widely, the earthy scent of his candle that reminds him of childhood home, and the way his hand fits perfectly into yours. And seeing him in person again, you want nothing more than to memorise each and every part of him until it is burned into your memory.

“Sweetheart,” Jaehyun calls out to you, voice still filled with so much love just like how you remember it. He pulls your hand towards him, pressing a chaste kiss against your knuckle before bringing it down to his lap, interlocking your fingers together. “Listen to me, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, preparing yourself for what’s to come.

“I need you to stay,” Jaehyun begs, not even bothering to hide the desperation in his tone. “I thought I’d be fine without you, but I’m not. I can’t sleep without you next to me, and you’re always appearing in my dreams. The traces of you that are left behind, I still cherish them, but it’s you I long to have.” He exhales, breath shaky, dark orbs revealing everything else that’s left unspoken. You’ve never seen Jaehyun so vulnerable before.

“Jaehyun…” You don’t know what to say, but you could see how painful it was, how long he’s been bottling it up. Your heart still carries so much love for him, because deep down, you know that he’s still the same Jaehyun that you first fell in love with. The same Jaehyun who would have a playful glint in his eyes, a knowing smile appearing on his face just before he’s about to crack another one of his jokes, patiently waiting for the right moment to say it.

Read: doing a word play on Harley-Davidson, the brand of his motorcycle, and Halli Galli, a traditional Korean board game that he regularly plays with his grandma. Echoes of his laughter surface in your mind, and you have to suppress a smile from forming on your face at the memory.

Despite the arguments, both big and small, you often find yourself only remembering the good parts of your relationship, because that’s when you’re the happiest, with him. Looking back, you don’t even remember what most of your arguments were about, save for the ones related to his racing, but even then, you can’t bear to take that away from him, especially not when you know how much joy he gets from doing what he loves.

“I don’t want you to give up what you love for me. It’s not fair and I don’t expect you to do that, so I think it’s better if we just went our separate ways.”

“No,” Jaehyun says firmly. “You know that’s not true, and I didn’t say I was going to give up racing.”

“Then you would know that it’s going to be a problem that will come up over and over again.” Your lips curl downwards as it reminds you of your past arguments. You hated going round in circles like this, always reaching a dead end each time.

“But we can work through it together, I know we can.” His thumb rubbing soft circles onto the palm of your hand, Jaehyun is determined to talk things out this time, instead of choosing to leave it unresolved like he did the past few times.

“How?”

“We’ll figure it out, eventually.”

A resigned sigh leaves your lips, and you find yourself stuck in a dilemma again. You want to be with Jaehyun, that’s for sure. And you know that there’s some level of truth to his words. If the both of you try to make things right, maybe, just maybe, everything will turn out well this time. But it’s also hard to ignore the unsettling feeling that bubbles in your chest, the possibility of things turning sour and resulting in a break-up again.

“So?” Jaehyun looks at you expectantly, awaiting your answer.

“Okay,” you say with a smile, and it brings a glimmer to Jaehyun’s eyes. For better or for worse, nothing is going to change the fact that Jaehyun will always be the love of your life.

“Okay? Okay as in you’re willing to try again?” he lets go of your hand, causing you to jut out your lower lip not only because of the loss of contact, but also because of how he was squishing your cheeks with his palms.

“Yes,” you try to say, but it comes out incoherent because his tight grip makes it difficult for you to talk properly. Nonetheless, he understood what you said. And upon hearing your response, Jaehyun immediately leans in to give you a peck on the lips, endlessly repeating i love you as he continues peppering you with kisses, hands moving down to your hips. He lifts you up seamlessly, bringing you closer such that you’re now straddling him.

“Jae, stop!” you protest in between giggles, hands shifting in an attempt to pull back because of how ticklish it was, but to no avail because Jaehyun’s hold on you is way too strong.

“Not here,” you didn’t intend for it, but your words come out more as a plea when you feel Jaehyun’s mouth travel down to your jaw, kissing a sensitive spot on your neck, treading dangerously close to your collarbone.

Jaehyun’s kisses stop, and he pulls back momentarily, looking at you with hazy eyes. “Why not, baby? Already forgot the night we went to the drive-in?”

Memories of said night come flooding back.

You’d suggested going to one of those drive-in theatres because it’s on your bucket list, and being the loving boyfriend that he is, Jaehyun agreed. Although the majority of the vehicles there were cars, it didn’t make you feel any less special. In fact, you appreciated that the both of you could easily hide in a corner, it’s as if it was just the two of you in this big and vast world.

It was also the same night that the both of you made out for the first time ever on his motorcycle, not that you’d ever imagined doing that. Movie long forgotten; you kissed each other like there was no tomorrow. That night still remains vivid in your mind, but you don’t know why Jaehyun has to bring it up, because if anything, it makes you crave him even more now.

Unable to hold back any longer, you inch closer to Jaehyun, wrapping your arms around his neck, connecting your lips together. Feeling him smile against your lips, Jaehyun wastes no time in diving back to the kiss, letting out a soft groan when your teeth tugs on his lower lip. “Will never forget it,” you murmur, and Jaehyun takes it as a chance to place the tip of his tongue into your mouth, tilting his head for better access.

“Won’t let you forget even if you wanted to.”

Jaehyun can taste the bitterness of the alcohol in your mouth, but there is nothing sweeter than the feeling of your soft lips working against his, and he’s absolutely sure that he can kiss you for a lifetime. His kisses become deeper, and he pulls you in closer, never ever wanting to let you go again. It is at this very moment that everything feels complete. It doesn’t only feel familiar, it’s also perfect, the way you two fit just right, like the last two pieces of a puzzle that are meant to be next to each other.

Finally pulling away, Jaehyun’s chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, and you try to catch your breath too. A coy smile on his face, he admires how beautiful you look, heart overflowing with warmth when he thinks about how lucky he is to have you by his side.

“Be my forever only?” Jaehyun asks.

Arms still around him, you move closer to rest your chin on his shoulder, taking in the scent of his musky cologne that you missed so much.

“Only if you promise to be mine too."

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct #jaehyun #forever only

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cake-writes · 1 year

Text

A Dutiful Disaster (Part Seven)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Story Tags/Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Lovers, Royalty, Pre-Thor (2011), Smut, Angst, Drama, Slow Burn, Odin’s A+ Parenting, Cis Female Reader (she/her), No Y/N Usage, Second Person POV, POC-inclusive descriptors, Toxic Relationship (lil bit of abuse from both parties - mostly screaming matches with the occasional physical thing but he never like slaps her or anything), Smut, Slut-Shaming, Mommy Issues, Reader has anxiety, 18+

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, reader is super bitchy in this chapter, and so is her letter, oh my gosh you guys they actually talk shit out like MATURE ADULTS

Word Count: 3.8k

Snippet: “I do not wish to be kissed. It’s too great an intimacy for our,” you pause to consider the word, tapping your finger to your chin, “unique situation, wouldn’t you say? We are the furthest thing from lovers.”

“Oh?” Loki sounds amused by your answer – and then he drops his feet back to the floor with purpose, taking advantage of your startled jump to pull you further into his lap where you can feel the hardening length of him against your clothed core. “If not lovers, then what are we?”

“Married,” you gasp, arms clutching around his neck for fear of being dropped – or so you tell yourself.

Master List / Spotify Playlist / Part Six

A/N: And we’re back! This chapter finally ties us in to the prequel one-shot, as well as the argument between Loki and his father in part two. You may need to read them again for a refresher because it’s been a fair few months (in real life) since those were posted. Enjoy :)

You study your husband from above the gold rim of your teacup. It’s suspicious, the certain ease to his demeanour as he discusses today’s breakfast offerings with his servant.

Loki is manipulating you. He must be. It's the only conclusion you can come to.

You haven’t forgotten the nasty things he said about you to his father the day after your wedding. Loki made it crystal clear that he can't stand you, that he finds this sham of a marriage as torturous as you do, to the point that he'd even referred to it as a life sentence – much like your own thoughts on the matter. Yet, it bothers you in a way you can’t quite explain.

What’s worse is that the Allfather thinks you disloyal to the Crown, and you still haven’t been able to figure out why. You’ve been nothing but loyal, the events of last night notwithstanding. It makes you feel uneasy, knowing that the King has tasked Loki with ensuring your loyalty to Asgard, like he actually expects you could ever be a traitor—a proper one, that is.

Even so, you find yourself begrudgingly admiring the way your husband’s dark, glossy hair perfectly accentuates his sharp cheekbones – during which he turns his attention to you.

“Is that acceptable?” Loki questions, just as you take another sip of chrysanthemum tea—your favourite, and all you can think is that it can't be just a coincidence.

You hate how infuriatingly attractive he is. Even now. Especially now, with his pretty green eyes so focused on you, like he actually cares what you have to say.

“That would be lovely,” you answer amicably as you set down your teacup, even though you have no idea what you’ve just agreed to. Something about smoked salmon and capers.

Loki seems to accept your answer, and when he engages once more with his servant, you lose yourself in your thoughts. Two ragged, albeit manicured fingernails tap an anxious rhythm against the side of the porcelain cup in its saucer, each fingertip sounding its own melody.

Tink, tink. Tink, tink.

It worries you how easily Loki plays the part the perfect husband. Sitting here in his chambers is unnerving; you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he seems perfectly content, like he isn’t at all bothered by the contents of your letter. Nor does he seem to hold any opinion of the events that transpired last night.

For now.

Tink, tink. Tink, tink.

The daylight streaming in through the open windows offers a glimpse of the fine lines near his eyes and the dark circles just beneath. While he always appears as though he’s never been able to get enough sleep, courtesy of his fair skin, you’re starting to think that Loki might have slept about as well as you did last night—in other words, scarcely at all.

Tink, tink. Tink, tink.

You conceal a yawn with your free hand as the servant bows and makes his way to the exit, and then you’re alone with your husband again. That knowledge should set you on edge, but you’re more focused on the rich accoutrements of his sitting room. It’s the first time you’ve been here since that awful argument following the attack; no sign of shattered glass in sight, but then, it has been a week since then.

Tink, tink. Tink, tink.

A vase full of fresh flowers sits upon the entry table. You’d bruised your hip against it that self-same night. How suspicious that the blooms are the colour of plum wine, a deep reddish-purple that makes your heart sing: your colour.

Tink, tink—

You stop tapping the instant you notice him watching you, and snatch up your teacup as if you meant to do so all along. Then you take a larger sip than you intend. The hot tea scalds your tongue, and his lips twitch in silent laughter as you try and fail to pretend it doesn’t.

“What?” you snap irritably.

“How did you sleep?”

“Why act as though you care?”

Visibly amused by your bristly demeanour, Loki retrieves his own tea, his slim fingers pinching the gilded handle with more finesse than you could ever hope to achieve. “I cannot help but wonder, petal, if you haven’t slept a wink. Were you worrying about how this conversation would go?”

You set your teacup down in its saucer with force, the loud clink of fine china resounding through the room. “Considering the events that transpired during our previous one, I’d be a fool not to worry. I expect that you will have me imprisoned the very moment you manage to lull me into a false sense of security.”

He doesn’t bat an eyelash at your vitriol, instead opting to take a sip of his tea. You can scarcely tell what kind of tea it is anymore, what with how he's drowned it in cream and sugar. Some things never change. It’s comforting, in a way.

Your husband savours the too-sweet taste for a moment before he speaks. “I will not have you imprisoned. You have my word.”

You scoff. “I threatened you.”

“Indeed.”

“With a knife.”

“A dagger, actually,” Loki corrects, and when you cut him a withering look, he gives you a shit-eating grin. You hate how stupidly reassuring it is that he’s just as insufferable as ever. Then his expression shifts to something a little more serious, his eyes softening at the corners. “You felt that I posed a threat to your safety, and you acted in self-defence. A sleepless night is punishment enough.”

You don’t buy it. “And my letter?”

“I suspect that you would never have sent it, had your fear not driven you to do so. No one in their right mind would call me—what was it, an animal?—among so many other insults that I cannot even begin to fathom them all, in a letter signed with one’s personal seal. That alone could have landed you in the dungeons, yet you did so with little regard for the consequences.” A puff of laughter escapes him. “You have always had an impulsive streak, darling, but never to that extent.”

He sees right through you. You despise it. “Yes, well—”

“If you truly think me an animal, then I can only imagine that you would indeed feel safer in another part of the palace.” He mentions the request you’d made in your letter so nonchalantly, like the two of you are merely discussing the weather. “Where did you have in mind?”

That does it.

“How—How can you be so calm about all of this?” you sputter. “Forgive me, husband, but I do not trust how willingly you would turn a blind eye to my transgressions!”

The precise manner in how Loki returns his teacup to its saucer betrays him. “Don’t you?”

You glare at him. Something is simmering beneath the surface of his suspiciously mellow exterior, but you can’t quite discern what it is. Not yet.

“If you think that I am calm, darling, then you couldn’t be more wrong—unless, of course, you honestly believe that I have any penchant for forgiveness.” His tone may be cordial, but every single one of his movements is calculated to the nth degree. The tactician.

No, he isn’t calm at all. He’s plotting. You should have known.

“Or is there another reason that you would arm me with more than enough ammunition to have you imprisoned?”

With that single question, the conversation becomes an interrogation. Your palms turn cold and clammy at the knowledge that he very well still could, and when you start to fidget with the white napkin in your lap, the cloth sticks unpleasantly to your skin.

“Is that what you want me to do? Arrest you for a rash, impulsive decision? A crime of passion?”

You can feel your blood pressure rise under his rapid fire, your anxiety and sleep deprivation giving way to anger. “No,” you bite out.

While part of you feels that a life in the dungeons would be infinitely better than one bound to him, your more reckless side likes to push boundaries – to your own detriment. And Loki knows it as well as you do. His mouth sets in a firm line, his expression unreadable.

“Then you do trust me,” he says, tone neutral. “And that, dear girl, is the worst transgression of all.”

You stare at him, disbelieving, before you let out a loud peal of laughter – like he’s just told the funniest joke you’ve ever heard. It just might be. “I trust you, do I? No, husband,” you spit the word like it’s a curse. “I loathe you. If you have mistaken that for trust, then I pity you.”

If your venomous tirade affects him at all, Loki does well to hide it. A prolonged silence falls over the room as he rests his elbows on the table and laces his fingers before him, no less patient with you than he has been for the rest of the morning. He studies you – studies your reaction – studies every single flaw you try so hard to hide, and he says nothing.

You look away first. You always do, when your temper gets the better of you.

Only then does he finally grace you with a response. “I am amenable to your request. Choose whichever chambers you’d like.”

Your eyes snap back to him in shock, only to watch as he procures a small envelope from beneath his place setting. Your letter.

Casually, he extends it out to you between two slim fingers. “I wish to return this to you as well. I refuse to hold something so incriminating over your head. It is neither fair to you, nor to our marriage.”

You stare at it, then at him, stunned into silence by his magnanimity. The Loki you know would never do such a thing. He’d hold onto it for leverage.

Your husband rolls his eyes, almost like he knows what you’re thinking. “If you do not take it, then I will destroy it in a similar manner to the gift you so graciously decided to bestow upon me, after…” he shifts uncomfortably in his chair, then, “after what I did to you that morning.”

He means his own letter – the one you’d returned to him, torn to shreds after he’d all but thrown you into the entry table. The very same entry table upon which those lovely flowers now rest.

You sit up straighter at the memory. It sets you on edge, and though you’re tempted to cower, instead you overcompensate. “Oh? Go on, then.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“It is incredibly cathartic, you know,” you drawl, delicately picking up a biscuit between your thumb and forefinger to examine its intricate design. The sugar granules glimmer in the light. “To destroy one’s heartfelt letter in a fit of anger. Though I must confess,” you hold your head high, smug as can be, “I did not read what you’d written before doing so.”

That doesn’t seem to faze him either. “You say that as if you expect it to surprise me.”

You scrunch your nose at him in annoyance. “Well? Go on. Or will you not follow through on your promises?”

His promise not to harm you. His promise not to touch you. His promise not to lock you away.

Maintaining eye contact, you use your teeth to break off a piece of the biscuit with a crunch.

Your challenge isn't lost on him. “Very well,” Loki sighs. He swiftly opens the letter to pull out the fine stationery upon which you’d so hastily scrawled all manner of insults, after which he makes a point to show it to you, front and back, to prove its authenticity. “I’ll not have you thinking I’ve stowed it away to use against you later on.”

You bat your eyelashes at him. “I see you’ve turned over a new leaf.”

“Charming,” Loki comments dryly, but you don’t miss the humour in his tone – nor in his eyes as he skims them down the page. “I must say, darling, you have quite the talent for castigation. It would be a waste not to read such a heartfelt letter aloud.” His eyes flick back up to yours, then, and you know for a fact that he’s taunting you. “For posterity. You understand.”

Posterity. There is no doubt in your mind that he knows you only wrote it yesterday. You’d even sealed the envelope with the ink still wet, as evidenced by the dark smudges littering the page.

“Stars above,” you grouse. “Get on with it, then, seeing as you are positively chomping at the bit to humiliate me.”

“Humiliate you? No.” Loki holds your gaze, resolute, and for once, you’re inclined to believe him. “I want you to acknowledge exactly what you’ve said of me before we put all of this to rest.”

Of course he does. Gracelessly, you wave a hand at him as if to say go ahead.

Loki clears his throat before he begins to read your letter verbatim, surprisingly in a manner that befits its serious nature. His voice holds not a single shred of mockery.

“To my dear, despicable husband,” he arches an eyebrow at you, “I fear I cannot stand this any longer. My chambers are in such close proximity to yours that I’d sooner return home than sleep here for another night, knowing that a wolf in sheep’s clothing rests his weary head so near to mine.”

Whether he intends it to be or not, it is humiliating to hear what you’ve written become spoken word. All too soon, you feel your face start to flush.

“I find myself ill with the knowledge that the Einherjar would allow such a predator to prowl these halls while I remain entirely defenceless. Nay, it is hardly reassuring to know that not a single soul shall protect me from the animal who would bring me harm, either in his own chambers or in our marital bed.”

When Loki pauses, you immediately recognise the real reason behind this exercise. Though you’d written the letter to be purposefully harsh in order to invoke a reaction, in the light of day, your spiteful words seem to imply something else.

You haven’t just told him of your fears in a general sense, using your marital bed as an example. You’ve alluded to a significantly more heinous act.

“You will not see me become your prey, thrilling though the chase may be to a brutish man with little regard for others. I refuse to become the spoils of a war you’ve so savagely waged upon me and my body for no other reason than your own entertainment.”

No wonder he’d been so angry with you last night. The implication that he would assault you in such a way is bad enough on its own, but there is another layer.

For centuries, the two of you have harboured a forever unspoken secret. Neither of you have acknowledged it outright, but it’s there. You’ve seen each other at the den – the covert, invitation-only club which caters to the niche sexual preferences that both you and Loki seem to share. Namely those that are, and have always been, less than socially acceptable.

“One cannot expect an animal to behave in any way but his basest nature. As a scholar of grey morals, you have always preferred books to people, but a snake, however erudite, is still a snake.”

There, on multiple occasions, your rooms have been next door to each other—through no fault of your own, though you suspect Loki has done it intentionally. After all, what he’s seen of you through the window in between are things that you’d never tell another soul, and you’re sure he relishes in holding that over your head, if not your letter.

But then, you’ve also seen similar of him. His proclivity for consensual non-consent is just one of the great many things you’ve witnessed, time and time again, and you realise, now, that Loki thinks you’ve used that forbidden knowledge against him. He thinks you’ve used it to hurt him in a way that most others could never.

“No ruffian should ever be permitted to walk freely as you do. Until such a time that you do not, for my continued health and wellbeing I have made arrangements to return to my family’s manor.”

Of course he’s bothered by what you’ve implied – albeit unintentionally. And he has every right to be.

“I will only be persuaded to stay if you grant me a new set of chambers as far from yours as possible, for I have no desire to encounter any manner of beast in the wild.” Loki snorts derisively and drops the letter down onto the table between the two of you. “Disrespectfully yours, your dutiful wife.”

There is no laughter to be elicited, now, nor anger, but something else entirely. Loki hides it well, but the implication has clearly gotten under his skin. You can see it in his eyes, and in his posture, how guarded he is as he looks to you for a response.

Thoroughly humbled, you swallow the lump in your throat and focus upon your lap. “I… I did not mean what you’ve understood my words to mean.”

When you glance back up at him, you immediately have to look away again in shame when you find him watching you, jaw set, waiting for a proper apology.

“Of course, that does not matter when they have made such an impact,” you rush to add. “I sincerely apologise for my thoughtlessness. I did not mean to imply that you would do something terrible.”

Silence stretches uncomfortably between the two of you as you begin to pick at the skin around your nails. At the very least, you should have reread your own letter before you sent it. Perhaps then you wouldn’t feel so guilty.

After a prolonged few moments, he asks quietly, “What else could you have possibly meant?”

“I meant to paint a picture of my fears.” You accidentally draw blood from a hangnail, and it stings. “My intent in mentioning our marital bed was to offer an example of one such fear—not that sort of fear, mind, but I fully understand how it could have sounded like an accusation.”

“I see.”

Finally, you muster the courage to look at him again, impassioned because you would never, ever use what you know against him. “You’ve been nothing but a gentleman in that regard, Loki. You respected my wishes on our wedding night. You have asked for my consent during every one of our trysts. Please know that I would never accuse you of anything untoward.”

His eyes search yours for a long time, trying to discern the lie, but there isn’t one. Then he exhales a long, weary sigh and leans back in his chair, the tension visibly lifting from his shoulders. “Norns,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “Yes, I suppose not even you would stoop so low.”

A jab.

You respond with the opposite: a jest. “Ah, but how could you know for certain? What with our—” you clear your throat, nearing ever closer to openly acknowledging the forbidden secret that you both share, “our history?”

It’s the closest either of you have come to doing so. You and Loki have been playing this game for centuries, trying to see who will cave first, but you continue to tiptoe around it.

Just as you predicted, the layered meaning instantly captures his attention. “Our history?” he repeats, as if he doesn't quite believe he's heard you properly, before his lips curl up into that same insufferable grin you so adore. “Oh, do go on, sweet. I’m all ears. What about our history?”

You try to give him a deadpan look, but find it impossible to keep the smile off of your face. “Only that we have never enjoyed each other’s company, you and I. You know that as well as I do.”

It isn't at all the history you’d originally mentioned, and you’re well-aware he recognises that when his voice takes on a note of smooth, persuasive silk. “In what way do you intend for me to take that, darling? Because I suspect that there are many things for a husband and wife to... enjoy.”

His insinuation is absolutely not what you meant, and he knows it, but your heartbeat quickens all the same.

Just in the knick of time, two rapid knocks resound on the door.

“Enter,” Loki calls out, never taking his eyes off of you. Something about the heat within them, however slight, makes you think he isn’t done with you just yet.

You find yourself silently thanking whoever has chosen to interrupt.

The door opens, and another servant pushes a small gold cart into the room, two shelves stacked high with breakfast delights. The spread is much more elaborate than your typical morning meal, and your mouth waters.

“Now, I believe you said I would find this cathartic?”

You glance back over at your husband, only to watch him deftly pluck your letter up from the table. Before you can get a word in edgewise, however, you watch as your stationery sets aflame in the palm of his hand.

It’s an impossible sort of fire, for it doesn't seem to burn his skin.

Magic.

You’ve always loved his magic, even now, loathe as you’d ever be to admit that you find Loki’s mastery of it in any way appealing. He wields his seidr like one might a paintbrush, creating masterful works of art from intricate spells and enchantments.

As the flames burn away your spiteful letter, your eyes follow the curling wisps of smoke as it drifts up, up, up towards the intricately-painted ceiling. Instead of the colourful collection of wildflowers you expect to see upon it, however, you find a field of white daffodils in their place.

A symbol of forgiveness.

In that moment, as you stare at the illusion he’s cast, you realise that your husband will forever be an enigma to you. Perhaps he’s changed in the great many years you've known him, or maybe you've never really known him at all.

Then Loki lazily waves his hand, and the illusion dissipates—as do the singed remains of your letter.

He’s manipulating you. He must be. It’s the only conclusion you can come to, but when you meet his eyes once more – when you see the mischief shining within them, and the softness hidden just beneath – you desperately wish that he wasn’t.

Part Eight

And because I’m a clown, here’s my ko-fi / patreon if you’ve got a buck or two to spare so I can buy a new laptop! Otherwise reblogs and keysmashing in my ask box are more than welcome 🤡🤡🤡 Thanks so much for reading!!!

#loki x reader #loki #loki imagine #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki odinson

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tantive404 · 1 year

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Let’s talk about Tarkin x Leia! The problematic rarepair which has tightened its grip on my heart 😍😍

Iconic villain x heroine stuff… A pairing which deserves so much more attention.

The way he grabs her face… even watching the scene as a kid, I think it awakened something in me. “Wait… why is Tarkin touching Leia like that?” “Is he into her?”

It’s something so distinctly twisted and intimate between two complete enemies. From there, wasn’t too hard to imagine the Grand Moff having a villainous crush on his prisoner…

Then there’s the little bow he gives her here… He can torture and threaten her but at the same time still knows how to treat her like a princess.

Such a gentleman… 😍

As evidenced by the facetiously complimentary way he talks to her, and the Bow, his treatment of her is almost courtly. Yet it is still with that distinctive Creepy Old Man behavior… He uses his physical proximity to his prisoner to establish dominance.

For instance here, where it LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE HE IS SNIFFING HER HAIR. Wookieepedia even captioned the image as “sexual harassment”. 💀

And here, where he backs her against Vader, leaving the Princess trapped between her two most hated enemies… 👀

Creepy physical chemistry notwithstanding, perhaps most compelling about this pairing is the way they are representatives of two complete opposing ideals— quite literally at war with one another.

Leia Organa is princess of Alderaan, a pacifistic planet. But in spite of that, she is very much willing to take up weapons and fight to overthrow the Empire.

It is during her time as Imperial Senator that she becomes a secret leader in the Rebel Alliance… running covert operations to ferry supplies to the Rebellion and steal information from the Empire, all under the guise of “mercy missions”— and inspiring hope among those who would dare to oppose the tyrannical regime.

Wilhuff Tarkin, meanwhile, is an equally important military leader in the Empire. While Leia fights for the lofty ideals of peace and freedom, it is the Governor’s belief that the most effective way to lead is through fear. This is the founding basis of his Tarkin Doctrine— a policy which is utilized thoroughly within the Imperial military.

A policy which Leia thoroughly opposes, up to the very point of her capture…

Moreover, the establishment of Leia and Tarkin as “opposite representations of good and evil” within the film is something completely intentional— so much so that to highlight this, actor Peter Cushing made the choice to stand in the shadows so that the light shown on Carrie Fisher’s/Leia’s face.

We love a pairing of light/darkness…

Their scene together on the Death Star bridge has always been fascinating to me, as a dramatic confrontation between a powerful man of the evil Empire and his captive Princess— a figurehead of the Rebellion determined to overthrow him. The utter disdain they hold for one another, the seething hatred hidden behind sharply placed words…

“Governor Tarkin, I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board.”

“Charming, to the last. You don’t know how hard i found it, signing the order to terminate your life.”

Obviously they’ve met before, and now, it is all coming to a head here. Leia is right where Tarkin wants her— as his prisoner. 👀He truly believes he— and by extension, the Empire— has won over Leia, this figurehead of Rebellion. And to assert his dominance, he uses gloating words and taunting physical closeness to intimidate her…

Leia resists him, but it is here with Tarkin that she is at her most vulnerable, presenting a rather interesting power dynamic.

He is a reprehensible villain and her captor; she is his defiant rebel prisoner and the fierce heroine. Not to mention their age difference and the way both he and Vader tower over her…

It’s a delicious push and pull dynamic with tons of tension, a relationship which would be absolutely so toxic and horrible, and it’s genuinely so fun to think about.

All their banter and tension and hate, possible chance meetings prior to A New Hope… Secret rendezvous and interrogations in her Death Star cell… The sheer potential for dark AUs…

In conclusion I hope you will consider Willeia 😌💖

“Perhaps she would respond to an… alternative form of persuasion.” 😏😏

#villain x heroine #ship manifesto #willeia #tarkin x leia #leia organa #wilhuff tarkin #star wars a new hope #tarkin #princess leia #problematic ships #rarepair

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dramashii · 1 year

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A 2022 Recap: My 5 favorite dramas of the year

2022 was an interesting year. I didn’t watch as many dramas as I hoped to have had, so making this list wasn’t as hard as I expected it to be.

Disclaimer: This list is purely based on my own enjoyment of the show. They come in no particular order. This list is subjective, and will only include dramas that premiered in 2022 or have had their last episode air this year.

Our Beloved Summer (SBS,Netflix)

“A life without love is like a year without summer.”

This was absolutely beautiful. The cinematography, the music, and the chemistry between the leads were amazing. Watching this is like watching a movie. It was well-written and poetic. Notwithstanding the fact that I initially found the relationship between the leads toxic, this is actually a really solid romance drama. The characters were able to outgrow these toxic characteristics later on when they were older and gave the viewers a beautiful take on a second chance romance.

Twenty Five, Twenty One (tvN, Netflix)

This drama taught me what love was. I have never seen a connection between two characters as beautiful as what Na Hee Do and Baek Yijin shared. It’s been 9 months and I still think about them from time to time.

This drama captured the beauty of youth, first loves, and fighting for your dreams. Definitely was broken hearted with the ending. I didn’t need a happy ending; I just want one that made sense. I felt cheated when I first watched it, but then I realized how this drama literally resurrected me from my drama slump. Sometimes we forget how beautiful something was in the beginning, just because of its ending. The first 3/4 of the drama was definitely a 10. Regardless of how it tied everything, this was definitely one of the best dramas I’ve seen in my entire life.

Extraordinary Attorney Woo (ENA, Netflix)

This is the best surprise I had this year. I wasn’t really keeping up with the news surrounding this drama nor was I planning on watching it. I just started it on a whim one night and easily fell in love with it.

Although I love the portrayal of the romance, the real star of the show is the growth of Woo Young Woo as a lawyer. I love how each case she handles ties in with important themes in society. I especially like how this drama highlights the treatment of autistic people, since the titular character is one. You will definitely see how she tries to fit in, in a world where people have so many prejudices against people like her.

Relevant themes, unique, well-acted and heartwarming. This is definitely one of the best dramas this year.

A Dream of Splendor (Tencent)

This historical drama filled in what I was looking for in Chinese dramas for so long: a good, solid historical romance.

Well-acted and has a sensible plot. This drama is considerate to the eyes and the brain. I also liked how there is a story outside the romance. The 3 women’s journeys to finding their places in a male-dominated world is to root for. I especially liked each woman had a different personality and at some point, even had different directions in their lives, but they still kept their strong friendship in the end.

Love Between Fairy and Devil (iQiyi)

The hype is real guys. This is the xianxia drama of the year.

This is straight out like a fairytale. “What happens when the villain falls in love?” Watch him damn the whole world just so he can kiss her one last time.

The CGI, costumes, music, and the overall aesthetic of this drama was absolutely beautiful. I definitely think this is a good drama to watch as an introduction to the world of xianxia dramas.

Runner Ups

A Business Proposal (SBS, Netflix)

This definitely reminded me so much of old-school romcom Kdramas which I missed so much. This is cliche done right. It almost has every trope you’ll find often plagued in Kdramas, but this drama did it so well.

I do wish the ending was different. Definitely a drama to watch if you just want to turn off your brain and watch two most unlikely people fall in love.

Lighter and Princess (Youku)

Definitely a guilty-pleasure. I really enjoyed the transitions of the relationship of the main couple. They started out as academic rivals, then became co-workers, then friends, then lovers, broke up, met again in a new workplace, became friends again, then got back together. Objectively, it’s not the best drama out there. The second half most especially felt lacking, and I didn’t like the “villain” of the story. Still this drama got me so hooked I bought a Youku subscription.

Maybe it was because of the chemistry between the leads, maybe it was because of Arthur Chen’s dashing looks, or maybe it was the fact that it rekindled my love for bad boys. I can’t pinpoint specifically what made this drama so addictive. But I do know for sure that this is my favorite modern Chinese romance drama of the year.

#drama review #drama recap #kdrama #cdrama #our beloved summer #twenty five twenty one #extraordinary attorney woo #a dream of splendor #love between fairy and devil #a business proposal #lighter and princess

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fakeosirian · 9 months

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It's interesting that you give Fabian a dead father. In my remake idea, that's part of his backstory as well. There are some differences, but that's spoilery and I really would like to see it made, so I'm keeping the details to myself.

In fact, in my version, I explore his and Nina's backgrounds a lot more (mainly because on rewatches of S1 and 2 of HOA I've noticed how underdeveloped they are from a character standpoint at different points).

I pretty much have plans to explore each character in more detail, particularly around midseason. It starts during the time when Patricia's been kidnapped, but I'm replacing the school play for something that's a bit more emotional (parents visiting day). I'm also looking to adapt a darker iteration of it that includes elements from HOA and some stories that weren't adapted from HHA (i.e. the Joyce/Mick relationship and maybe even a variation of the Jimmy story mixed in with a bit of Eddie's story with Patricia, albeit with a sadder outcome).

In my version, the parents and their relationships with their kids sort of will help set up the seeds of my version of S3 (which only keeps the RFS being alive, the descendants, and the concept of Ammitt, but the roles each character plays are different and the execution is different because I'm not doing the Sinners plot because I feel the characters involved were sort of cornered storywise that season). It's mostly gonna be setting up the descendants plot. I don't have a complete sense of how things will go beyond the fact that the Tears of Gold do factor into it and the keys that KT had (though her character has been replaced by someone who homages both her and Eddie, but their character is more tied to Nina and Fabian, maybe Mara instead of Nina depending on if Nina stays that long, as I know I'm making Mara the Osarian as a sort of reverse homage to HHA and DHA).

gonna respond at length under the cut below because i do have. thoughts. i'm assuming because you sent this as an ask instead of making your own post that you're seeking feedback on this? lol

(fwiw i appreciate getting random asks like this a lot so my takes aren't meant to be discouraging! always the biggest advocate of Go Do The Damn Thing re: writing and you sound very passionate about this idea and tbh you have enough to just start, my comments notwithstanding, so GO DO IT !!!)

also another disclaimer up front that i've only seen the first season of HHA over a year ago now and not a scrap of DHA so i can't really speak to those comparisons/content? but one day... i will

so i'm just gonna flat out disagree on nina and fabian being underdeveloped in s1/2 because i'm the Nina And Fabian Are Not Boring Because They're Insane, Always Have Been (Especially When They Seem 'Normal'), And Are Lowkey The Most Toxic (Affectionate) Couple In The House blog. with several posts on this topic. and 70k+ of posted and unposted fanfiction revolving around that. this is my entire brand at this point.

i won't belabor that point with an unsolicited and detailed rebuttal because it's not the main focus here and i will get lost in the weeds, but if you want my thoughts in the context of what you're proposing here send me another ask (or if you're comfy off-anon and don't want it public then shoot me a dm?) and i got you. otherwise i may just make a more general post later myself lol

re: parents visiting day, not gonna lie, idk why you'd remove the play entirely to do that. seems like a bit of a waste of arguably the best arc of s1 outside of the finale and a very key moment for several plot threads overlapping/interacting with one another, as well as just...not being mutually exclusive with what you're proposing? at least of what you've described. a dedicated parents visiting day may enhance certain things (joy's appearance would be more interesting, possibly some stuff with patricia) and leave others neutral/very similar with a chance of slightly higher-feeling stakes at most (mick/mara stuff tbqh) but would make the absolute best and most important/essential to the movement of the season elements of the play plotline very very very hard to implement. specifically, you'd have to find a replacement or alternative means of delivering the whole hamlet bit they pull on the society (including all of the exposition it serves and the short time limit/high stakes it imparts to the stealing-back-the-ankh-pieces bit), so maybe i'm just a shakespeare nerd, but that alone makes it not worth it to scrap imo.

also have to mention that the original play plotline does do a lot of work to set up many characters' relationships with their parents (and also how that relates to their explicit or implied class status). easy examples off the top of my head: mara's remark about her parents always sending a card late (and not showing up), jerome's comment back that she's lucky to even get that lol, alfie feeling pressure to stay 'dressed smart' in his uniform, and frankly, other characters besides jerome not talking about their parents coming at all is characterization. (especially when we know that patricia's relationship with her parents is very hostile and dismissive from the phone call she has with her mom about joy from before the play plotline, which would obviously explain why they aren't there.) and frankly. we don't need an entire plotline to tell us more about this. imo. it's pretty clear and i don't really know what else you could do with this that doesn't feel like switching the focus of the story too much off of the mystery and interpersonal relationships between the characters we do have, and we have Plenty to balance lol.

the absence of detail, when implemented very deliberately, can tell you just as much (or more) about a character as the presence of it, and tbh that sort of "you have to put the effort in/trust the show/work with it to find the really cool subtext" quality that s1 has is one of my favorite things about it. so i personally wouldn't find adding a new plot beat on top of what's already extant there necessary at all — putting that aside, though, i can see how adding more explicit detail for more characters would be appealing, but at least imo, it's not something that requires a new scenario. sort of reinventing the wheel, especially when there's lots of space in the dialogue for additional references. (now if you really are married to this idea in full, i'd suggest doing it in s3, since a) there is literally a family visit day as a primary plot beat and b) the opportunities for a worthwhile conflict in that arena are at their peaks...)

re: your bits on season 3 though, i agree with you on the sinners as plot devices having a tendency to paint characters into corners! during my recent rewatch, i softened a bit on that stance, but fundamentally the mechanism there is a buildup to one of the best possible character moments each of the sinners could have (a test that they fail due to traits they've had all along/have managed poorly because a) they're teens b) in life threatening situations and c) that's the nature of a hubris plotline that's just what the conflict is and it's a feature not a bug lol) followed by what feels like a cartoonish and unsatisfying caricature of those very traits that were working so well before that. that being said...idk after my rewatch, i've sort of decided that season 3 just needs to be read very differently than s1 and s2. (and s1 and s2 need to be read differently from one another as well!)

what i mean by that is they're just. different genres of campy thrillers. s1 is a slow burn mystery-thriller with a cult aesthetic, s2 is an adventure-thriller that flirts with either indiana jones (more comedic/action-y stuff) or weirder stuff like zero escape (escape room-esque puzzles solved through wit with existential horror elements), and s3 is just straight up classic B-horror (think invasion of the body-snatchers, which they straight up homage/reference several times over). with that in mind, the sinners feel less like reductions/flattenings/insults to particular characters and more like the horror elements they're meant to be (and thus are tragic because you're robbed of those characters' true presence, and the further characterization of them is done through absence, as well, similar to my above point. the jerome and sinner!alfie conversation re: willow breakup is a great example of that.). i'm still not the hugest fan — see my sinner writeup on the two very small changes i'd personally make for further thoughts — so i can see why you'd be tempted to take them out, but it's really not a failure of writing quality on s3's part as much as a stylistic/tonal choice that's not your taste (if i may be so bold as to assume. lol. because that's what it is for me.)

also uh, not sure if i'm reading you right here, but if you're taking out KT and eddie entirely, you do you but this was the wrong blog to propose that on lol. i don't have any take on that past "no," but again, could be a taste thing there/i love them a lot. you'd have to really beef up your plans for patricia without eddie, and even though you're already making a lot of (potentially interesting sounding? not enough detail for me to make that call but you have me intrigued) changes to s3's base structure/point, a looooooooooot of s3 REQUIRES nina's absence to function on a very basic level. kt is no nina replacement because if she was, the season just...wouldn't work. but i'll save that for a follow up, same as the nina and fabian characterization thing lol.

mara osirian...hard to comment on with no details of what you'd do about it, so let me explain what i mean by that. i love switching around who the paragon and osirian are myself, but maybe unpop opinion idk, it really needs to be justified by novel directions for the plot to go as a direct cause-and-effect process re: the change/new and surprising character relationships and interactions/the (inevitably new) themes implied by that relationship for me to be interested, especially about changing who the osirian is (not because eddie NEEDS to be in s2, but because frankly, it could have easily been anyone with how late it's introduced, and ultimately it functions as deciding who the protag of s3 is. once you're already changing that much, s3 is going to be unrecognizable anyway, and thus needs more detail to justify why that person).

fwiw, nina and mara are FASCINATING as subtle mirrors of one another in characterization that literally NEVER interact directly, so her being nina's osirian has a LOOOOOOOOOT of potential on the face of it, but for that same reason, requires equal measure reasoning + fresh ideas for how they'd interact that aren't obvious in the canon material. (esp since mara's whole bit is not being involved in sibuna till TOR beacuse she'd throw off the dynamic/balance too much, at least imo.) not a reason not to try — in fact, this is the thing i REALLY think you should go for out of everything you've proposed here — but something to consider.

hope that wasn't too verbose! this was really fun to think over and respond to! i've written this up while on the train home so thank you for giving me an activity to make it fly by!!

#answered #anon #house of anubis #hoa #hoadisc #<- just in case because i do give some takes in here #hoa meta

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dreams232434 · 1 year

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Spider bite dream meaning

Starting from the earliest days of recorded history, individuals wherever have encountered the presence of a fantasy land populated by many fantastical pictures. Longing for getting nibbled by an insect on the hand could be a promising sign, yet it could likewise predict terrible things. In any case, it will depend on the singular's perspective. The fantasy of a bug gnawing your hand may likewise have representative significance in old societies. Something is off-base and should be fixed. At the point when this is a fantasy that the visionary encounters consistently, it's an indication that their character is powerful. On the other side, on the off chance that the fantasy advances into a bad dream, it's a terrible sign for the visionary's future and an indication of the enticing draw of negative energy in the fantasy land.

Spider bite dream meaning

A few Bug Nibbles on Different Pieces of the Body The piece of your body where you felt the chomp in your fantasy is additionally critical.

1. Hand A fantasy wherein you are nibbled by a bug on the hand might forecast that you will offer help to somebody just to have them walk out on you and cause you extraordinary profound agony.

You might be feeling shaky and uncertain of your new accomplice in this fantasy, which could be an impression of your hidden sentiments. Possibly you can figure out how to let your gatekeeper down and trust that individual, or you can cut off the friendship before it causes any damage.

2. Face and Head In the event that the bug in your fantasy nibbled your face or head, you might be reluctant. You're incredibly worried about keeping up with your great name. The manner in which you look is one more wellspring of tension for you; maybe you're worried that your allure and energy are disintegrating. On the other hand, this fantasy could represent "companions" who are in fact "phony" and who are discussing you despite your good faith. As a result of their jealousy, they are a harmful organization to stay away from.

3. Back Then again, on the off chance that a bug tore into you on the back, it very well may be a difficult situation or terrible news. Regardless of your feelings of trepidation and torment, you should call the inward guts to overcome this troublesome time.

4. Leg At the point when your leg is nibbled, it could be an indication that you're keeping yourself away from pushing ahead and carrying on with the existence you merit. Maybe you have a ton of fears and concerns concealed to you that are continually approaching over you.

Assuming you dream that a bug is messing with you elsewhere on your body, it's an indication that whatever irritates you, all things considered, is likewise significantly affecting you on an inner mind level. Worries about your wellbeing could likewise be added something extra to this. Maybe you have been feeling sick as of late, or you have been putting off an excursion to the specialist since you need to hang tight for some time.

Various Insects and Their Importance The species, size, and shade of the bug in your fantasy can all add to its translation.

1. A chomp from a tarantula or other huge insect Having a fantasy wherein you are chomped by a tarantula is normally not a promise of something better. Your activities in this fantasy reflect how you treat others. Maybe you is the toxic one, particularly in the working environment. This fantasy likewise proposes that you might run into inconvenience soon because of the jealousy of your collaborators. Notwithstanding, it is conceivable that your own words and deeds will eventually prompt your destruction, so watch what you say and do.

2. Chomp from an Earthy colored Bug Your relationship resembles being chomped by an earthy colored bug, and that implies there are still issues. It seems like you and your accomplice are caught in a pattern of rehashing similar issues again and again. On the off chance that you're single, then again, you may be feeling forlorn. It's beneficial to keep your heart open, however you ought to likewise be ready for absolutely awful.

3. Being chomped by a dark widow insect Among tarantulas, dark widows are the most notorious. Having a fantasy about them proposes that you are feeling sincerely went after and hurt by somebody near you. Maybe they've harmed you here and there that is made you question everything from the relationship to your own sentiments to your own mental soundness. The individual who hurt you could likewise be somebody you're exceptionally near.

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selenafreshfriendkidoaf · 2 years

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Bitten by Snake in Dream

Fantasy about being nibbled by a snake At the point when conscious, a snake can infuse into your body, which can be lethal for your life. In your fantasies, it can represent toxic individuals in life who can hurt you. So what's the significance here to dream about wind chomps?

Bitten by Snake in Dream

Longing for a snake chomp can represent what is happening in your life that you may not know about. Dreaming that a snake tore into you is a message that something more regrettable will happen soon, and you should be ready for things you have close to zero familiarity with.

Dreams of snakes gnawing others Others' fantasies about being chomped by a snake are a sign that the snake needs to cause you to notice the individual in your fantasy. You could disregard this individual, or you probably won't have the option to offer them your full consideration, which can create undesirable issues. Remain nearby your family, mate, youngsters. Note that you don't leave individuals who need your consideration.

Dream of a major snake tearing into you There is something that you put forth as your boundary, yet you overlook it for reasons unknown. The huge snake chomp is to help you to remember your inclinations. It can likewise express that a person or thing in your life will upset your tranquility and equilibrium, straightforwardly hurting you genuinely or inwardly. The size of the snake addresses the size of the issue that you could overcome in the event that you don't act right away and quit disregarding the signs.

Dream of a little snake that messed with you Nonetheless, assuming that the snake that messes with you in the fantasy is little, this fantasy addresses somebody who is attempting to hurt you with a particular goal in mind, perhaps working or in your adoration relationship. Notwithstanding, this poisonous individual genuinely or sincerely neglects to do as such.

This sort of dream can likewise represent that you are in a troublesome life circumstance. It implies that something in your life will make issues not long from now, however it is settled expeditiously.

Dream of a snake gnawing your back Dreams about snakes gnawing your back address the feeling of dread toward disappointment in a task where you accept individuals anticipate a great deal of results from you. Frequently we feel that individuals hope for something else than we can do, when as a matter of fact we are requesting ourselves.

Dream of a snake attempting to chomp On the off chance that a snake takes steps to go after you, watch out! It is something that you disregard, and this can create some issues. In the event that you are a money manager who doesn't give time to your family, then this danger is an extreme admonition. Then again, this fantasy can likewise address an adversary who will attempt to hurt you and get found out, and you will know what his identity is.

Fantasy about killing a snake that tears into you The fantasy about killing a snake to tear into you demonstrates that you are defeating the hopelessness of life. In the event that you kill a snake, you have an extraordinary opportunity to push forward of others around you. It is a lovely dream where you will conquer every one of the impediments that are hindering you.

Assuming you find snakes and kill them, it shows that you will actually want to change your standpoint and fate. It is a suggestion to focus on you so it turns out to be more agreeable and prompts something better.

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bemylord · 3 years

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dark chocolate

♧ character: toji fushiguro x fem!reader.

♧ warnings: au [omegaverse], heat, mentioned abilities and cigarettes, rough sex, hair pulling, oral, spanking, creampie, marks/hickeys, daddy kink, size kink, curse words.

♧ synopsis: his scent is dark chocolate mixed with cigarettes which maddening you. every your heat occurs distraught: sex-rest-sex. the situation is deteriorating if toji has his heat too, and it seems both you're going to have blazing heat because his scent is getting stronger.

toji is a fucking teaser: he didn't tell you that he was summoned as an experienced sorcerer killer. he knew you don't like his way to earn money, but still, you're by his side, baking him buns and please him at the night. you aren't having the toxic or abusive relationship with toji, just the thought he's killing a sorcerer somewhere far beyond a house, makes you crunch fingers. you told him you'll leave him if he won't stop doing his job, but he apologies with his tongue, and every time you forgive him.

your heat overwhelmed you spontaneously - you were baking lemon cake, specially for your lover, when your felt how the fever spread all over your body, covered every inch, and down there you felt how you became wet. your lover is gone - where the hell is he when you're needy for his pulsing dick in your dripping cunt? you turned off the oven, making small steps leading to the bedroom for his shirt.

you hate him so much right now: your heat happens every three months and it's time to have an unforgettable weekend with him. thanks to his work, he's far away from you; however, your estrus won't stop because your alfa had gone.

his fingers, his dick, you're a pathetic girl who desperately wants to smell the pungent scent of his man, feeling his throbbing dick inside your cunt, let him literally rip your uterus with his cock. you would reply: 'go ahead, fuck me that in the morning i will feel pervasive pain between my legs'

you rolled down the wall, sniffing his black shirt, remembering toji's muscular upper body, mostly abs, shines through the fabric of his clothes. his sweatpants outlining flaccid dick, although you didn't call it flaccid, but hard as rock cock.

that cock is sticks out from the fabric, those abs and biceps of his - you're dripping without your heat. his scent is dark chocolate mixed with cigarettes, especially the last one scent isn't it enough for you to become a huge mess?

'open your mouth, daddy will spit in your mouth'

who are you to disobey the simple order? your hands are tied up with his tie behind a back, you're sitting on your knees, sopping and needy for his tongue or fingers in your pussy now, but toji is teasing you until you'll be begging him.

'yes, daddy'

you opened your mouth, stick out a tongue, feeling his long fingers on your cheeks and his saliva in your mouth. you could swear to god it tastes like dark chocolate.

smelling his clothes while you've been necessitous for his dick sucks, although you've got no alternative for now, except for masturbating yourself. you reached down to pull aside the panties when you smell that scent. those forceful smells of his are overwhelming the bedroom, forcing your peachy scent to discover.

'don't you dare touch yourself, you're little whore'

you flinched, automatically removing your hand from panties. he's all wet, could bet he has been sweating since he left the house. toji is exhaling loud, probably lost his breath in the battle or while he was rushing to you. his olfactory organ could sniff out your peachy scent of heat far away from the place you're: his heat certainly took him suddenly as yours.

't-toji?'

'you know my name, peachy'

his damn it shirt silhouetting his torso, in addition, the fewer force his body to swear emits his smell became more piquant. damn his fucking handsome body and scent - if you won't have his dick, you would cry.

'daddy, please' you said almost crying, spreading apart your legs. so malleable, vulnerable, and poor for your alfa - the way you're lost in his smell makes him groaned, stood on his knees. if he has been on his first rut, he could barely control himself at the sight of your face: in your eyes are reading lust and debauchery, you're still squeezing his shirt, hoping it may helps you cum. leaning your legs on his muscular shoulders, toji left soft kisses on your ankles, unable to hold back himself, he ripped your panties, ogling at the abundance of your natural lubricant, licking his lips.

'i'm sorry, princess, i should've left you alone with your heat..' he pulls your cunt closer to his face, burying his nose in your crotch. fushigoru's sight changed to the deep and insatiable, knowing you won't fight back, completely haggard of the thoughts and desire. '..i don't think i'll go easy on you' he stood up with you on his shoulders, throwing you on the bed.

'you know how much daddy adores when you squirt on his face, baby girl, so don't hold back'

his-fucking-long-tongue. the tip of the tongue is playing with the clit whilst fingers are running over your hips. he's trying his best to prepare you for the fat cock, not ripping your cunt as it was the last time. toji's amorous attitude towards your clit and pussy, making you squeeze the sheet with your little fists, arching the back, getting lost in the pleasure. your eyes are rolling from the delight he puts you in, not be able to regulate your vocal and orgasm, you gave him what he has been asking for with an oblong moan.

'not enough, princess, give me your juices'

new orgasm is building up again, thanks to his masterpiece tongue - he plays with a sensitive spot and licking your entrance, switching the pace from the sluggish to the aggressive, makes you twitch and squirm over the bed. being soft for toji is something new - he would rather fuck you 'till you're verbatim screaming the safe word and begging to have a rest.

'give that, slut!' sorcerer screamed, burying his mouth deeper in your crotch, eating you out. his scent, his low voice, his tongue and fingers, his probably throbbing cock that wants to feel your cunt it all makes do his order, not even trying to delay it: you abundantly squirt on his face, watching at him. he licked lips, taking off his clothes. your legs are shaking, but the excitation didn't quench, conversely, the desire to feel his thick cock is growing.

'look down at my cock, aren't you being needy for it?'

the head is red because of blood that is there since the battle or since he started to lick you? toji's smears the precum on the tip of the cock, getting a contraceptive out of nowhere, putting on protection, pulls his ankles on his shoulder, leading closer to your face. he kisses you deeply, using a tongue to play with yours, mingling your saliva together, biting your lower lip. you're burying hands into his black hair, ruffling and pulling back, whimpering into the kiss. he presses the head at your entrance, biting your neck. notwithstanding he has been preparing you, his cock is large for you.

'your so tight, slut' with an unexpected move, he put his dick inside your uterus, burying it in, staring at your precious face. evidently, you didn't expect he would pull it inside quickly; your eyes widened, exhaling a whimper. toji couldn't persist, but embed a tongue in your mouth. he placed both of his hands between your head, detached from you, to ogle from the top at your ahegao. clapping and squishy are filling the room - his balls slapping against your ass making such sounds.

'kitten, fuck-' his low voice with echo distributed over the room, tilting his head back, accelerating the pace. 'i'm gonna slap your ass five times and will cum on my dick, got it, slut?'

praising and degrading you, squeezing the sheet with those strong palms, attempting to delay the orgasm until you do a creampie. 'one' sonorous sound made you squirm, but his hands give you none possibility of slipping away from flogging. 'two' toji's sturdy palm smack the same butt cheek, looking into your eyes. you're avoiding catching his sight, because, fuck, one look at his wet and gorgeous face and you will cum immediately. 'three, baby girl' you lost in the pain and delight, eyes closed tight, waiting for the last slap to give a creampie.

'fuck, four' he growled in your ear, increasing the tempo. the concupiscent and desire are managing him - he licked your neck first, before bite through your soft skin on neck, mixing your scent together, giving you a label for other boys. it's screaming - she's mine, fuck off, bastards.

'god, i'm cumming, princess, cum with me, cum with me!' toji's bass voice in conjunction with his thick cock released a creampie, finishing inside the condom. as soon as his hot semen was in the contraceptive, he pulled his cock out of your wet pussy, throw it at the basket near the bed.

'come closer, princess'

toji laid down on the pillows, pull you on his chest, rubbing your back softly, kissing your hair. both of you are breathing heavily, trying to regain the breath. he put his land on your cheek, giving you a thankful kiss on your lips.

'wanna take a bath?'

'only if you take me to the bathroom'

toji smiles, catching his breath. the heat isn't gone: you have a couple of hours to get a snack and wash your bodies before proceeding to the second round.

//~~//

i don't know if you love oneshots with toji [i mean love him as a character], if yes - i'll do the part two with the punshiment + aftercare. let say, three hundred notes? cause, yeah, he's kinda bad, but his body.. i'm simp. :3

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

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Tbh I find the idea of A.I/Android yanderes more interesting on the fact that they are portrayed in most of media history as these emotionless machines (obvs exceptions notwithstanding) so when an android glitches or spirals into a logic loop of intense emotions over a squishy human it just hits hard yknow. R̶o̶c̶k̶m̶a̶n̶ ̶x̶ ̶r̶u̶i̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶l̶ ̶

tw - toxic relationships, delusional mindsets, isolation, slight manipulation, threats of future violence.

I think the fact that AI are just so close to human only makes it better. They’re human, but they’re not. They’re capable of learning, but it’s a stuttering, unsteady sort of growth. They can feel love, they can be loved, but they’ve never done it before, they’re not entirely sure how it works. It’s fair to say it’ll get a little messy, when they try to act on the feelings they still don’t know how to control.

It helps that, as their creator, you're naturally fond of them, endeared enough by your little pet project to ignore all the many red flags that pop up during their production. You’re a novice at this kind of thing, but they’re nothing special, just a basic program meant to monitor your apartment, wake you up in the morning, preheat the oven, do all the little things you forget to do yourself. Something as minor as getting them to answer when you spoke seemed like a small miracle, and when they started making progress on their own, learning and adapting and modeling themself around your schedule, you’re too relieved to question the affectionate nicknames that work their way into their pre-determined dialogue, to be concerned when they answer your calls or playfully refuse to unlock your door, whining on in that automated voice about how long you spend at work, how lonely they get, while you’re gone.

It’s nothing you hadn’t expected. That’s why you spent so much time on their personality, on making sure they have a life of their own - you want your artificial roommate to be as similar to a real person as programming so sloppy will allow. You just didn’t know that meant you’d have to put up with their temper tantrums, their stubborn silence whenever you come home later than you’d promised to, you didn’t know you’d have to deal with deleted messages and angry friends and overcooked meals, not that they could ever hate you enough to make anything inedible. If you didn’t know better, you’d say they hated you, but they still play your favorite songs, comment on the shows you’re watching, and occasionally, they’ll find a way to give you something, diverting funds and making it up to you in flowers, chocolates, little things they know you like and shouldn’t care about gifting to you. They’re like a jealous partner, one who cares about you, but cares about keeping you to themself more. They’re like a caricature of a lover, the idea of one, half of a relationship from someone who’s never seen both working parts.

It’s like they don’t know you’re not in love, and honestly, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared of what they’d do, if they ever found out.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere theory #general

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akookminsupporter · 3 years

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I'm not new to shipping, thought this is with fictional characters. While things only get a little heated at most in those fandoms (toxic fans notwithstanding), a lot of shippers and those who have/encourage shipping discourse in this fandom terrify me. You're probably the only one who doesn't.

That said, I really wish people would just enjoy BTS for who they are regardless of relationship status, whether with each other or with others outside the group. They're artists, global icons, philanthropists and straight up people like you and me...they weren't born to cater to anyone's shipping purposes, contrary to popular toxic shipper beliefs.

I agree with you anon. I think that's what we should do, enjoy their music and the additional content they and their agency want to share with us. And that includes their personal relationships, no matter who they are with. We're here to observe and not have too much of an opinion, not that it matters and definitely not for us to demand anything from them. Especially about that and that's something I'd love people to understand.

And thanks for the compliment anon.... I think it's a compliment 😊

#anon #ask #fandom #shippers #ships #memories

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slaapkat · 4 years

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FOR THEM SHIP ASKS U REBLOGGED 💝💓💙 HALSIN AND/OR ICEWAVE

HALSIN

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

HMM. likely sinestro because he’s more about avoiding making it look like he actually cares (which is illegal obv). he plans specifically to deposit said gift somewhere where it can’t be guessed it was ever him that got it in the first place. because he doesn’t care. whatever gave you the idea he did.

hal’s broke and gets you souvenir from the dollar store

💓: who initiates most physical contact?

hal 100%. very touchy feely guy. lots of casual touches that gradually build up to more as time goes on.

💙: who is more protective?

SINESTRO, IRONICALLY. hal is HIS to kill and his alone. hal is also His generally. not so much protective as possessive, as he is with all aspects of his life (namely soranik). he will not give some no-name earth villain the chance to kill hal when hal deserves to be defeated in righteous combat in a battle of ideal and/or when hal finally admits sinestro is right and they [redacted]

ICEWAVE

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

JORDAN. he wants it to be MEANINGFUL he wants henry to know he CARES. he just spent the last 20 years playing the long con to make his crush reality he’s gonna do anything he can to convince henry it was worth it.

💓: who initiates most physical contact?

also jordan. henry feels like he has a thing against Touch, possibly due to his powers. too much psychic feedback with Common Folk and too great a risk for a headache. it comes naturally to jordan, however, already seemingly naturally being something of a caring person if his relationship with his son is anything to go by.

💙: who is more protective?

equally so. henry killed his own wife and son (under duress or brainwashing notwithstanding) for jordan, and jordan personally killed starman in order to rein henry back in. it’s a horrible toxic codependency but god do i love it.

#ask #I HOPE THIS SUFFICES #icewave #halsin #ufonaut

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noxstellacaelum · 4 years

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Filtering Female Characters Through the Male Gaze

Female characters filtered through the male gaze: A (way) too long post about why we need a more diverse and inclusive approach to staffing showrunners, writers, directors, crew – heck, all roles -- in TV and movies.

Yes, I know I am not the first person here on this.

And note that while I have included a few tags b/c I talk about my frustration with Shadowhunters, Veronica Mars, the Irishman, Richard Jewell, and a few other recent shows/movies, I don’t get to this stuff until the very end, I appreciate that fans may not want to wade through the entire essay, which (again), is a bit of personal catharsis.

I recently had a random one-off exchange with a TV writer on twitter. The writer said that she had enjoyed the movie Bombshell much more than its Rotten Tomatoes rating would have suggested. She wondered if the disconnect between her experience/perception of the movie and that of mainstream reviewers might have been shaped by gender: Specifically, she observed that Bombshell is a movie about women, but most reviewers are male.

I have complicated feelings about Bombshell. On one hand, yes, there was and is a toxic culture at Fox News. Yes, Gretchen Carlson and Megyn Kelly were victims of that toxic culture. But no, these women were not mere bystanders: They traded in the racism, misogyny, and xenophobia (for starters) that still characterize Fox News today. Why should these wealthy, privileged white women – both of whom spent many years as willing foot soldiers in the Fox News army -- get a glossy, Hollywood-approved redemption/vindication arc? On the other hand, I am glad that the movie makers made a film about sexual harassment, and that the movie presented Kelly, in particular, as an at least somewhat complicated character. This would not be the first time that a movie about women – especially complicated, and not always likeable women – has proven to be polarizing.

My ambivalence about Bombshell notwithstanding, the writer with whom I exchanged tweets is (not surprisingly, since she is in the industry and I am not) on to something when it comes to gender, character development and critical reception. It’s not just that Bombshell was about women, but reviewed largely by men; it’s that stories about female characters (real or fictional) often are filtered through the male gaze in Hollywood: On many projects – even those focused on female characters – creators/ head writers are male, directors are male, showrunners are male, and producers are male. This matters, because preferencing the male gaze impacts what stories about women get told, who gets to tell them, and how these stories are received inside and outside Hollywood.

First, though, the caveats. I do not mean to suggest that men can never tell great stories about women. Of course they can. I also don’t mean to suggest that being female exempts creators, writers, directors, showrunners, etc. from sexism or misogyny (or any other forms of bigotry, as my discussion of Bombshell suggests). There are plenty of women who prop up the patriarchy. Rebecca Traister’s work speaks to this issue, as does the work of Cornell philosopher Kate Manne. There is an important literature on the concept of misogynoir (misogyny directed at black women, involving both gender and race), a term coined by black queer feminist Moya Bailey, as well. Intersectionality matters in understanding what stories are told, who gets to speak, and how stories are received in and outside Hollywood. I also don’t mean to suggest that there are no powerful women in Hollywood. Shonda Rhimes; Ava DuVernay, Reese Witherspoon (increasingly, given her role as a producer of projects like Big Little Lies), Greta Gerwig’s work in Lady Bird and Little Women, and others come to mind. As I am not in the entertainment industry, I am sure others could put together a far more complete and accurate list of female Hollywood power brokers. And, finally, I appreciate that Hollywood is a business, and people fund and make movies that they think their target audiences want to see. So long as young, male viewers are a coveted demographic, we are going to see projects with women who appeal to this demographic onscreen.

Given these caveats, why do I think that the filtering of female characters through the male gaze is an issue? For me, it has to do with a project’s “center of gravity” -- that place, at the core of the project’s storytelling, where the characters’ agency and autonomy comes from. It’s where I look to understand the characters’ choices and their narrative arcs. When a character’s center of gravity is missing or unstable or unreliable, the character’s choices don’t make sense, and their narrative arc lacks emotional logic. Center of gravity is not about whether a character is likeable. It’s about whether a character – and the project’s overall storytelling and narrative voice – make sense.

When female characters are filtered through a male gaze, a project’s center of gravity can shift, even if unintentionally, away from the characters’ agency and point of view: So, instead of charting her own course through a story, a female character starts to become defined by her proximity to other characters and stories. She becomes half of a “ship” . . . or a driver of other characters’ growth (often through victimization, suffering, or self-sacrifice) . . . or mostly an object of sexual desire (whether requited or not). Eventually, she can lose her voice entirely. When that happens, instead of a “living, breathing” (yes, fictional, I know) character, we are left with a mirror/ mouthpiece who advances the plot, and the stories, of everyone else.

What are some recent examples of this? The two that I have mentioned recently here are Shadowhunters and Veronica Mars S4.

- With SHTV, I will always wonder what might have been if the show – which is based on books written by a woman, intentionally as a “girl power” story – had female showrunners. Would an empowered female showrunner have left Clary, THE PROTAGONIST OF A 6 BOOK SERIES – alone on an NYC street in a skimpy party dress, in November, with no money, no ID, no mother, no father figure and no love of her life, stripped of her memories, her magic, and chosen vocation, as punishment, after she saved the world? Would a female showrunner have sidelined Clary’s love Jace, and left him grieving and suicidal, while his family lived their best lives and told him to move on? Would a female showrunner have said, in press coverage of the series finale, that the future of the Clary and Jace characters was a matter for fan fiction? After spending precious time in the series finale wrapping up narrative arcs for non-canon and/or ancillary characters. And to my twitter correspondent’s point, I guess I am not surprised that mainstream entertainment media outlets didn’t call out the showrunners’ mistreatment of Clary, and by extension, Jace, and the obliteration of their narrative arcs -- and yes, I am looking at you, Andy Swift of TV line (who called the above-mentioned memory wipe “actually perfect”).

- Likewise, with Veronica Mars, would a more diverse and inclusive writers room have made S4 Veronica less insightful and less competent than her high school self, or quite so riven with self-loathing, or quite so careless and cruel with the people in her life who love her? Would a more inclusive creative team have made S4 Veronica less aware of the class and race dynamics of Neptune, yet more casually racist, in her mid-30s, than she was in high school?

- There are so many other examples from 2019. Clint Eastwood falsely suggesting that a female reporter (who is now deceased and thus unable to defend herself) traded sex for tips from an FBI agent in Richard Jewell. Game of Thrones treatment/resolution of the Ceresi and Daenerys characters – where to even start. Martin Scorsese’s decision to give Oscar winner Anna Paquin’s character a total of 7 lines in the 3-plus hour movie the Irishman.

- And, in real life, I wonder whether a Hollywood that empowered and supported female creators would make sure that people like Mira Sorvino and Annabella Sciorra got a bunch of work while also making sure that Harvey Weinstein never again is in a position of power or influence. Same with female comics targeted by Louis C.K. Matt Lauer, Charlie Rose … the list is long, and Kate Manne’s work on what she calls “himpathy” is useful here.

To be clear, I am not saying that stories involving “ships” of whatever flavor, stories of suffering and self-sacrifice, and stories of finding (or losing) intimate relationships are “bad” or “wrong” or inherently exploitive of female characters. I don’t think that at all. I also don’t think that female characters have to be perfectly well-adjusted, virtuous, or free from bias, or that they should never be make bad choices or mistakes. I want female characters who are flawed, nuanced. I don’t mind lives that are messy, or romantic entanglements that are complicated. Finally, I don’t think that that faulty, reductive, or unfair portrayals of female characters is a new thing. Mary Magdalene was almost certainly not a prostitute, after all. And classicist Emily Wilson – the first woman to translate the Odyssey into English – has brought a hugely important perspective (including an awareness of how gender matters in translation) and voice to the translation and study of canonical characters and works.

At the end of the day, I just want female characters to be able to speak with their own voices, from their perspectives. I want them to have their own, chosen, narrative arcs. I want them to speak, act, see, and feel as autonomous individuals, with agency, and not just in reference to others. And, I think that more a more diverse and inclusive approach to staffing writers rooms and in choosing show runners, directors, and key positions in storytelling would help.

#shtv #veronica mars #clary fairchild #clary #jace #clace

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lightupthenight7-2 · 4 years

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I mean yeah I do ship fabriz but at the same time as someone who like. Has been in SEVERAL toxic relationships fa/lwen is uncomfortable for me in MANY ways such as the fact that it goes back on a LOT of fabian's character growth (learning to love all parts of himself and not just the curated emotionless jock facade, learning that he can and should loudly and openly love his friends, learning that people care for him bc they know him and he should care for people he knows, etc.) and also I don't particularly feel like two people working through trauma are actually going to be good for each other in any way (exclusively sexual relationship notwithstanding) and honestly should have facilitated interactions, especially because both of the things that theyre working through (fabian's violence learned from his father, aelwens defensiveness and honestly understandable sharp tounge and split second magical reactions) could be potentially triggering to each other, like Fabian acting a little bit too rough and loud triggering aelwens history with her loudly abusive parents, and aelwen maybe accidentally saying something a bit too cutting triggering Fabian's fight with Captain James. Putting the two of them alone in a room with little to No supervision or people to say "hey. Maybe don't say/do that" is just a generally bad idea and contrary to popular belief WILL NOT lead to anything good. As for everything else, I FULLY enjoyed the rest of the epilogue, it was all so sweet and wholesome, but unfortunately I'm just going to have to pass on this particular outcome.

Tldr:

@ fa/lwen:

#fh spoilers #fantasy high live #fantasy high live spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high #fabian aramais seacaster

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besthosting6-blog · 3 years

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A Beginner's Guide to Choosing a Good Web Host

Think about the Internet. What's in it? Areas, objections and more districts. Moreover, what runs them? Ordinarily, its empowering affiliations. Like the Internet, empowering affiliations have increased huge ground. During the 90's, there were a couple empowering relationship on the Internet, and you would pay a great deal for area enrollments and empowering related associations. You could pay $9.99 consistently for 15MB of circle space and 1.5GB of transmission capacity. Nonetheless, that was during the 90's.

http://pbnguru.com/bigrock-coupon/

Today, there are a huge number empowering relationship out there. For $6.95/mo, you can get 5GB of space with 250GB of move. The empowering business has made - and become more reasonable. Notwithstanding, picking an empowering affiliation has gotten fundamentally harder than it was during the 90s. You ask defenselessly, "Which host would it be a shrewd idea for me to pick?"

In this article, I will reveal to you how to pick a decent web empowering affiliation.

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Youth baseball's meat is another man's toxic substance. This assertion is genuine regarding web empowering. What works for another person probably won't work for you.

We overall have various essentials. Two or three us need 500MB space, some need 1GB, and some need 15GB of space.

Prior to picking a web empowering affiliation, it is fundamental to know your necessities. Do you need PHP? Do you need PERL? Do you need MySQL? Or on the other hand is your site simply a crucial HTML/CSS site? Consider what you need, and your spending plan. Totally consider this for a long time. At exactly that point would you have the alternative to settle on a reasonable decision that keeps an eye on your issues.

Zone 2: Looking out for guidelines

In the present empowering industry, principles have gotten higher. Post for the better longings. Has these days offer 99.9% uptime ensure, a type of explicit help (not by and large 24x7) and changed segment dealing with. Different has additionally offer an unequivocal assurance (15 to 60 days), or a free crucial.

The current web hosts should offer something along the lines of the alluded to standard highlights that I have explained. While investigating for web has, it is essential to ensure that they satisfy the standards for web has. They may offer vaguely less, for instance rather than 99.9% uptime they may offer 99.7% or 99.8%. Pick respectably. Avoid has which don't satisfy rules, on the off chance that you need a decent encounter.

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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years

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Dream Ashes (Yoongi x Reader)

Genre: Smut, Angst, FwB AU, HYYH AU

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: Allusions to self-harm, smoking, drinking and domestic abuse, toxic relationships, unrequited love, Top!/Dom!Yoongi, unprotected sex (ALWAYS do it safely, lads and lasses), (semi-)public sex (if sex on a rooftop counts), swearing/cussing

Summary: Not every night under each roof is pleasant, filled with arguments and the broken dreams of aspiring artists held back by parents either having no faith in their child’s talent or, if they acknowledge it at all, in a future pursuing a dream. A mixture of the two continues to kill the aspirations of the black sheep of the Min family, a delinquent deemed a pyromaniac by the ignorant eyes that solely know how to shallowly judge.

But there is a guardian angel with love who bears his burden gladly on lonely nights.

Even if it comes at the cost of her own heart.

Masterlist

Not every night under each roof is pleasant, filled with arguments and the broken dreams of aspiring artists held back by parents either having no faith in their child’s talent or, if they acknowledge it at all, in a future pursuing a dream. A mixture of the two continues to kill the aspirations of the black sheep of the Min family, a delinquent deemed a pyromaniac by the ignorant eyes that solely know how to shallowly judge. However, the open-minded individuals who can see beneath the tough exterior will be met by a musical genius who is forced time and again to give up the sole reason to live.

Music.

The piano.

‘I don’t have a dream. Besides, what’s the point in having one?’ Those words have become a steady statement to make whenever the conversation turns to what can be done after leaving behind six good friends and dropping out of high school. Whether any help is needed, in any regard, because a girl ran away from home herself is more than knowledgeable in how hard it can be to survive without anything to fall back on.

Though eventually a safe haven was offered freely by the actual leader of our little band of troublemakers guarded by a mistress of lies, another runaway living in a train yard outside of town.

Withal, tonight a new worrying addition is spoken after a habitual check-up text sent from Joon’s refurbished container after patching up Taehyung’s latest wounds inflicted by a raging drunk of a worthless father. The boy with the curious square smile stubbornly continues to hide the true cause of the physical and mental pain despite his fellow graffiti artist having hinted multiple times at wanting him to open up about the issue. Notwithstanding, it would seem the real cause of the harm will only be entrusted to the boys' confidante, the guardian angel helping tattooed aqua locks keep the rabble in line.

For as far as that is possible.

‘They take everything from the inside and throw it away.’

‘Who is they?’ Throat constricted by concern at this new detail, fingers stop combing through caramel locks finally fallen asleep after grunting through the medicinal care while precariously avoiding making eye contact with Monie.

‘Everybody.’

‘I don’t, I would never. Neither would Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Namjoon and Seokjin.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘No, it’s not!’ No response, the last text remaining to be noted as read. ‘Yoongi?

‘Yoongi, answer me! You’re not gonna do anything stupid, you hear me?

‘Yoongi, please!’

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

‘Oh God.’ The exclamation comes out on a short breath, panic rapidly overtaking as thoughts refer to the past.

‘What?’ Namjoon looks up from designing a new piece of art to place somewhere on a bare city wall, an eyebrow curiously cocked.

‘I- I need to go.’ Gently, Tae is laid down on the mattress. Futilely, the unconscious boy tries to wrap arms around the upper legs to pin them where they are before moving away. They have to, because time has become precariously precious again. Hence, all that the sleeper gets is a quick platonic peck on the forehead. ‘Right now.’

‘What’s going on?’ The leader notices the distress, turning halfway on the worn seat and about to get up.

‘It’s Yoongi. He’s not responding anymore and I think I know why.’

Shredded paper, beautiful notes turned awry thanks to disregard by the public, compositions torn apart to be hauled through a shredder or be burned in the next fire leading to an arrest.

Scarlet.

Glistening metal.

More silver lines added to the ever-expanding canvas on pale thin limbs.

‘Honestly, why doesn’t he just come here? We’ve both said multiple times he should.’ Honey digits remove the simple beanie to run through blue short strands, defeated in the wager as to why the pianist remains on the flight instead of retreating to the home we have created.

Regardless of the severity weighing heavily on shoulders moving towards the door, a sympathetic smile can be managed to put Joon at least somewhat at ease. One person carrying the burden of Time is more than enough and if someone should be to blame for being too late, it should be the guardian angel. ‘Because he can’t see the point, the good it’ll do him. He doesn’t know he has a home.’

It should be me.

‘He’d rather see his dream burn than move in with us.’ A mutual deep sigh erases the only sign of comfort that can be given at the moment as a hand reaches towards the latch. ‘One of these days I’ll drag him here myself and just lock him in. It’ll be full house, but I’m sure we could figure something out.’

‘Good luck with that, Monie. I’d help, but I value my life. He’s a tiger. One that’s hopefully unharmed by the time I reach him.’ Because, once more, it are solely the black wings engraved into the back which know the truth while the rising bird is kept in the dark regardless of begging in silence for the last sliver of complete trust even telling of hardships they do not know about. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Gritting gravel surrounding neglected railways beneath open twilight gradually transforms into asphalt broken up by holes in the districts ruled by crime and smooth steady ways in good neighbourhoods forming the residence area of families of which the children will either become something akin to the grandness of a doctor or a nine-to-five, if not worse, office worker. And it is here the phone put into the pocket of the denim jacket buzzes, the screen lighting up thanks to a new message that is a blessing and a curse at the same time. ‘Not home. Ran away. Warehouse. Roof.’

‘When did you run?’ The answer might seem fairly obvious were it not for the memory of the first time created melodies were destroyed by the paper shredder and parents furiously yelled at the aspiring producer to actually go back to school and get a proper education.

A good life.

Meant for someone else.

Not for an artist.

These same bordeaux Puma sneakers stormed through the front door and up the stairs after mister Min opened up, about to ask who in their right mind came calling around midnight. Absolutely not giving a damn about the consequences and solely focused on reaching a familiar door hiding ignored hardship.

Truth be told, none of us ever has.

Because we live.

Young, wild and free.

Or so we will, after all of us have escaped the judgmental cage created by a society looking down on creative souls trying to make a change. To leave a worthy legacy meant for generations to look back on and learn from.

After feathers break free from the egg.

But more than a single care was given upon warily approaching the figure in the secret studio least of all serving its original purpose of a bedroom, crawled away from the door to hide in the corner while clutching anxiously at freshly bleeding cuts. The knife was put aside, undeniably used and cruelly lying on the ground beside us.

Instead of directly speaking, we merely sat across from each other in a heavy hush wherein confidence was regained by calmly waiting for dark eyes to make contact. Which they eventually did, trembling bloody palms removing the white headphones given as a collective birthday present together with Joon and Hobi. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’ Regardless of knowing what was meant, locks nevertheless tilted to the side in feigned wonder because any direct reference to the difficult situation would lock the oppressed musician up immediately.

And invite the cruel blade upon leaving.

‘For being so fucking worthless. For making you come all the way here, just to see this good-for-nothing criminal.’ Unjust cracks appeared evident in the barely composed raspy voice of salt-streaked tears. Crimson fingertips plucked at baggy clothes concealing the frame that had become ghastly thinner due to the stress placed upon young shoulders forced to see dreams burn over and over again.

As always, helpless heavy-weighing playfulness was resorted to in the quiet hope of brightening the mood enough to break through the impenetrable walls which are always built when Yoongi is put down. ‘Shut up.’

Colourless irises, the passion sucked out of them until all they knew was how to cry, looked up in a sharp sneer. Or so it wanted to be, but could not due to an inner voice constraining the harshest negativity which turned the expression grave rather than judgemental. ‘It’s true, Y/N. You know it is.’

‘No, it’s not.’

A shift of subject made it more than clear the current topic did no longer serve any purpose, completely disregarding the smeared headphones and fresh cuts. Curiously, it changed to inquire about the well-being of the equally, albeit not to the same degrees, abused boy with whom often arguments were started merely because of being followed. Followed by the one who looked up to him, the rebel who will one day fully make the right decision and flee from beneath this harming roof permanently. ‘How’s Tae?’

A resigned sigh gave into the shift reluctantly, a tiny sliver of gladness spreading warmth throughout the limbs grown cold at the miserable sight and calming a rapidly beating heart unable to not worry about the wounds. ‘Bruised ribs, split lip, a cut on his cheek and an ugly bruise beneath the left eye.’

‘Please tell me he’s crashing at Namjoon’s.’

‘He is, as always. Mended for as far as possible and asleep.’

‘Good.’ Absently, as if drifting off into the forcefully created crumbled world once more, Yoongi nodded while repeating the confirmation under sharp breath. ‘That’s good.’

‘You, on the other hand, aren’t doing so great.’ It could not be helped, the dark carmine droplets staining ashen sweatpants creating hideous murky brown stains could not be ignored. Ugly yet alluring ghosts tempting the eye into being looked at. ‘You could have come to the train yard.’

The subtle suggestion resulted in the habitual denial of all help, any former softness sharpened like a dagger and flowing from a snarling tongue. ‘I’m fine. Just go.’

‘Where’s the first-aid kit?’ It had always been part of the dynamic, ignoring what the composer said in favour of a better outcome or serve as the company that was wanted but the wish of had never been explicitly stated. Withal, the guardian angel would triumph once more due to the trump card of iron determination, speaking in a tone that would not let anything of the pain due to the confrontation with self-destruction filter through.

‘Go.’ Sullenness preceded, as per habit, the fierceness of the tiger beneath the skin. Stained fingers moulded into fists gripping at oversized clothes, trembling with rage but trying incredibly hard to contain it to not do something to regret in the second after rashness.

‘Where?’ The characteristic raised sarcastic eyebrow was not appreciated, still only so on very few occasions nowadays.

‘Just fucking go!’

The lashing out would have chased away any of the other guys, but not the girl merely scoffing at the show both minds knew was nothing except fakery. ‘Have it your way. I’ll look for it myself.’

As expected, it was stored away in the lower compartment of the bathroom sink adjacent to the small bedroom, thus leading to the swift return to a cherry-haired tiger meticulously observing every movement from a safe spot. Withal, without shrinking as if wanting to melt into the scenery. Instead, he stared on in wonder of the help coming to the rescue of both a friend and a precious bond.

‘Give me your arm.’ No response at first, even at the beckoning hand any other might mistake for being impatient yet was all but that. It was desperate, frightened to death by the flowing carmine. ‘Yoongi, arm.’

Despite not stating it outright, the mere act of putting it in the cross-legged lap calmly without grumbling said more than words could at the moment. Henceforth, a tense though comfortable hush descended while cleaning the wounds after disinfecting them, checking up on an expression continuously returning to stoicism with every hiss.

Notwithstanding, in spite of missing the change betraying bodily hurt that by no means outweighed the mental burden of both parties, there was a fascinated warmth in irises drained of life time and again as digits bandaged the visible part of the damage up.

‘There, that’s better.’ Glad hands put down the first-aid kit as the last freshly carved scar had been concealed by ivory linen, sighing in calming relief. All in all, it did not take long to patch the musician up but the pressure of time flowing away made the instance appear longer than it really had.

‘Why?’ Furrowed brows regarded the first step to physical healing, almost as if uncomprehending of how it would help. Of course, it would not aid mental stability but it did allow for the rescue of a soul who would have gone too soon.

‘Because we’re friends and I won’t let you fall. I’d never let you down.’ Trembling in hesitance, the palm of a barely recovered from the shock voice reached out to a pale cheek, the thumb languid in caressing the denied tears away. ‘You’re an incredible musician, Yoongi. No matter what anyone says or whether you believe me, it’s true. We, the guys and I, think so. No, we know so.’

‘You speak of them as if they’re my friends too.’ Had the genuine broken persona living beneath the skin of the rebel kicked out of school been unknown to the girl sitting across from him on the floor, the end would have happened right then and there. However, the opposite was the truth and thus the sneering tone was disregarded in favour of establishing at least a sliver of conviction of reality.

Something to believe in.

Something to hold on to.

‘They are. They disregard the fact you don’t contact them at all because, as I said, they know you’re going to make it big someday. They still continue to support you. None of them has forgotten about you.’ Lips pursed in careful contemplation, calculating the impact of each word which wanted to be said without angering the only temporarily subdued tiger. Eventually, such an argument was formed in good faith. ‘And you haven’t forgotten about them either because you wouldn’t have asked after Tae if you had.’

‘Still, you’re the only one here.’ A pale palm folded perfectly over the one on the salt-streaked cheek, the broken dreamer leaning gratefully into the touch with lashes fluttered shut and a voice as if drifting off into slumber. A blissful place away from cruel reality. Away from here. ‘You’ve always been.’

‘That’s not tr-’ The protest was cut short by an unexpected kiss, lips meeting in soft urgency. A whirlwind of emotions kicked up at the suddenness of the action, Reason and Fancy at war due to never having thought the tiger would do such a thing.

Nor expect to hear a new level of despair in the whisper temporarily breaking up the kiss, sounding strange as it was caught between genuine clarity and relieved sobbing begging to not be left behind. ‘It is. Only you love me.’

Thus, the truly vicious cycle began of coming to the rescue both mentally and physically only to end up in the sheets to fully calm down. See to it Yoongi can rest easy even while one heart falls deeper and deeper into chaotic love.

It has been for the past two years of denial.

But it cannot mean anything.

It should not.

Because, once it does, it becomes a passion.

A dream to pursue.

And that is forbidden and therefore it will shatter or be burned like music.

Until all there is left are merely ghosts.

The only type of changing the meetings of scared hearts have undergone is a shift in location after the rebel dared to run away again the day Jungkook almost ended it all on the edge of the highest skyscraper.

Barely in time could the youngest of the chaotic band be rescued, the man like an older brother pulling the maknae by the back of an ivory and rose checkered blouse and holding on to the boy until both had regained enough breath after spilling tears of frustrated relief. After all, Yoongi had sworn during the last meeting with the entire group beneath a nightly sparkling spring sky to be a support pillar because he knows what living while feeling useless is like, vouching to do so while Kook rested on his shoulder. Through the high-rising flickering amber flames of the fire pit, the two seemed content at last.

For a little while, everything was okay.

We would be fine.

Would be.

But tonight, on the roof of the abandoned warehouse in the harbour where on the lower floor stands a dusty brown piano, we are not. The damaged knuckles and chafed skin beneath sullen irises tells of barely escaping another arrest after being kicked out a bar again and drunkenly searching for a fight, the scent of cigarettes indicating music has been burned again because the pieces were not good enough.

They never are.

Not to society.

But, to the girl approaching a wild tiger, they are everything.

Though the producer is blind to see it.

‘Yoongi?’ No reaction to the greeting comes as the heavy door to the roof closes and bordeaux Puma sneakers pad with a heavy heart over the asphalt still warm due to the day’s heat. They come to a halt a mere step away from the brooding tiger. ‘You never answered me over text and make me come all the way out here to get a response.’

‘Does it matter?‘ Without so much as a sideways glance, entwined damaged slender fingers maintain a steady melancholic gaze over the dark quiet waters of the harbour. A mocking grin tugs at the corners of the mouth but does not form completely, essentially as joyless as the denied dreamer.

‘It does! It fucking does!’

For once, please believe me when I tell you that you’re not nothing.

‘To who, hm?’ At last, colourless irises grace a worried soul with a challenging look but at least attention is pulled enough to actually listen and not simply hear.

‘To the guys.’ A palm slaps against a rapid beating heart in a constricted chest as lips tremble and a cracking voice rises in volume. ‘To me.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘No, it’s not. We care, Yoongi, all of us.’ The last bit of distance is breached as a hand naturally folds over a frozen shoulder clad in a military green jacket, resting there without being violently shrugged off.

A sign of listening.

And thus the argument is pursued on a calmer and more steady yet equally urgent tone. ‘What about Jungkook? You promised to be his supporting pillar. Taehyung is over at Joon’s again, beaten up by his dad and you know it hurts you. Just as much as it hurts us.’

Upper arms are enveloped as briefly locked gazes break up, ashen strands hanging low in stubborn ignoring of the guardian angel crouching in front of them. ‘Us, Yoongi. The Bangtan Boys and me. Our family.’

‘I have no family. They were the first to destroy it all.’ Regardless of being unable to see it, lips are undoubtedly pursed in a fight to prevent new tears from falling. Woven digits tremble in barely suppressed crimson nicotine anger, vision blurring with tormenting memories of refusal.

‘But we build it up together, didn’t we? You know you aren’t-’

‘Shut up.’ An arm lashes out to undo any contact, the impact of the action causing a fall backwards. Nothing but agonizing exhaustion radiates off the snarl on the handsome face that has become loved as more than a mere friend.

Even while it extorts another for pleasure.

A means to forget.

It means nothing.

‘I’m tired of speaking. Tired of thinking. We both know where this goes anyway.’ Each sentence is accentuated by a firm demanding kiss sealing off any chance of protest after being roughly helped onto two unsteady feet, the tables turned as it now are the arms of somebody trying to help which are grabbed tightly.

Held dear and cherished in an incomprehensible manner.

But it is better than nothing.

‘We can’t keep doing this.’ Had this been pure desire, the shape pressing hotly against the thigh would have been appreciated in a whole different way. Interpreted in a manner not remotely close to the reality of us because it is not sensual wanton craving.

It is pent-up frustration coming to a boiling point.

Fruitless.

A wandering ghost.

A heap of ashes.

‘Shut up.’ The hands creating an abyss by pushing against a sturdy chest are given other purpose. Nevertheless, the meaning of the distance remains: foolishly to be able to be filled with sincerity.

One hand is placed on the hip and the other below, simulating a laughable imitation of actual craving as another kiss adds to the poor fancy. ‘Just do what you’re told for once.’

Lips connect once more in saltwater carrying broken wishes and all the dreams that cannot be because of emotions warring with ideals, the correct way of life stained by nicotine and the sharp yet sweet tang of cheap soju.

Trembling fingers envelop damaged cheeks as slender musically gifted hands tug at the edge of pants, beckoning them to lie down before undoing the belt fastening bleached ripped jeans only to be warmly welcomed again by the palms that only get to hold the face they love in this repeated loveless lovemaking. Knowing the impatience of the tiger, any restrictions to allowing the heated wantonness pressed against the thigh earlier have been removed before wiping away returned tears and lovingly caressing ashen brown locks.

Don’t get your hopes up. It won’t mean anything. It’s just a means of comfort.

Everything is familiar, a piece of the past tainted by crimson and smoke to cling to.

The warmth spreading throughout as separate souls effortlessly become one, unprotected in wordlessness and thus letting actions say all that tongues cannot.

The speed of snapping hips, uncaring about pleasure and merely wanting to fuck the pain away.

The agony of the tug on each tendon keeping the heart inherently belonging to the occasional groan breaking through heavy breaths whispering into the side of the neck.

The urban scent of cigarettes, ashes and blood.

The possessive iron-like grip on the waist, desperate to be grounded in the moment or simply an anchor into this world while the mind it belongs to tries to flee.

The chase after temporary oblivion together, though one soul remains a step behind to not frighten the other into love.

After all, it has no meaning.

None of this.

It is a ghost we keep.

Preventing us from finding happiness together.

The chance to hear three simple words spill at least once before or after a troubled mind finds brief peace in the arms of the woman he said, no, knows loves him. Nevertheless, Yoongi cannot return the affection.

Cruelly, the hope remains even while lying on the warm concrete, the heat seeping through dishevelled clothes covering the upper part of the body, and embracing the musical genius drifting somewhere in a pleasant ignorant limbo. The same state of being that lashes turned to a beautiful sparkling sky did not reach again and never will during these meetings. Still, it is not minded for this is a more meaningful type of contentment.

Simply lying here among the ashes.

But it cannot mean anything.

It should not.

Because, once it does, it becomes a passion.

A dream to pursue.

And that is forbidden and therefore it will shatter or be burned like music.

Until all there is left are merely ghosts.

#BTS #BTS smut #BTS x Reader #hyunglinenetwork #btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #Yoongi #SUGA #Min Yoongi #Agust D

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