#i hate being called naive more than anything else but if ive loved someone that love never fully goes away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

css1992 · 3 years

Text

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies – and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

89 notes · View notes

aerialflight · 3 years

Text

Fic Recs (cause it's always nice to give a shout out and get people into things I'm into rn)

[The Magnus Archives] (I recently finished the podcast and I fell into a hole for a while so here you go)

Sing a Song of Sixpence by Kaiel

Ship: Jon/Martin

In which Jonathan Sims is a Siren, and he fails to notice any new abilities granted to him by the position of Archivist. Or really anything about the Entities at all.

Takes place in season 1 featuring Jonah Magnus’s slow decent into madness

(The new mythology interwoven with tma's worldbuilding is so freaking good and I love how all the characters change and develop because of these changes. Also, f you Elias)

Along Came a Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Ship: implied Jon/Martin

Sasha James is the Archivist, as expected. Martin Blackwood is menaced by Jane Prentiss, as expected. Elias Bouchard weaves his web, as expected.

All goes as it should.

At least until something calling itself Jonathan Sims steps in.

(Web!Jon in this makes me want to weep, it's so freaking good. A pretty long, very excellent oneshot on what could've happened if Jon got taken by the web when he was a kid. And Sasha as the Archivist is ALWAYS so cool, we love her in this house.)

A Break in the Clouds by Ash_Rabbit

“I’m eight.” the kid sniffs as if eight was any different from four, maybe not an unspeakable horror then, just a regular horror. “And I heard that the Magnus Institute deals with-” his little nose scrunches, cute. “-spooky things.”

“Do you have a-” he cracks a grin, and then rethinks it as small hands tighten against their burden.”-spooky thing to deliver?” gods he hopes not, it’s bad enough when adults walk in and lay out all of their baggage, but for a child-

“There’s a spider in this book.” the kid says solemnly, raising his textbook sized parcel. “It ate Evan Pritchard.” a bloody fucking Leitner. Of course an eight year old would find a murder spider book. “This seemed like the best place to bring it.”

(I never thought about what the Original Elias could've been like AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT BECAUSE OF THIS FIC. I LOVE HIM, HE'S COMPLEX AND HE CARES AND JON CARES AND THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. THIS IS THE CONTENT I WANT, OMG. Also, Jon being even smaller than usual is adorable, so cute. No wonder Elias wants to hug him, a LOT.)

See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World

Ship: Jon/Martin, Jon/Oliver Banks

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

(One of my all time fave fics in this fandom, no questions asked. I have reread this three times and am open to doing it again, god. Vast!Jon, such a concept. It's written so beautifully and the relationships Jon develops, so good. ugh. My heart. Please please read.)

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Ship: Jon/Martin

“Come in, Martin,” he says, not looking up from his notes.

“Hi, Jon,” he says, and Jon stops writing at the sound of his voice. “We’re out of the green tea, but we’ve got lemon?”

Jon looks at him. Martin smiles at him in his usual tentative way as he sets the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk. Heat spikes so sharply in his gut that he twitches with it.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, mouth dry, and he stands up.

“Oh,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He smiles again. “No-- no problem-- um, what are you--”

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

(You have no idea how much I howled through this fic, my god. *buries face in hands* The number of times I wanted to cry from sheer hilarity and horror reading this good lord.)

Things Could Always Be Worse by theOestofOCs

Ship: Jon/Martin, Georgie/Melanie

Sometimes, the most horrifying thing of all is what might have been.

Somewhere, Jon could swear he heard a crowd laughing.

Or: in which Jonathan Sims is forced to swap places with his alternate self—a tall, chivalrous hero extraordinaire, who knows neither fear nor nuance—and is sent to the aggressively straight alternate universe the Magnus Archives was never meant to be.

“Whatever place this is,” Jon announced, “I just want to be sure it knows I hate it.”

(I will say this once, THIS IS THE MOST CURSED THING IVE EVER READ EVER. Like holy hell. I can't believe this thing exists. please read it oh please please please)

[Supernatural]

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) by Schmuzz

Ship: Dean/Cas, Jessica/Sam

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

1. Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; 2. He has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; 3. He keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who seems to be about as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

(THE fic I'm most into right now, been following this from the very start and it's AMAZING. Cas has agency and is making friends and S1 Dean is growing out of John's influence and is becoming a Person and the both of them first being friends then more. The slow burn as their relationship develops, SO GOOD. SO SO DAMN GOOD. *screams* Seriously one of the best spn fics I've read in a long, long time.)

anamnesis by cenotaphy

Ships: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Eileen

Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be.

* Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19.

(THIS IS THE FIC THAT GOT ME THROUGH THE FINALE OKAY. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN CANON. It's Disturbing and honestly plot-wise this makes more sense. Why couldn't we have had this. *screams*)

[Avatar: The Last Airbender]

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor

Ship: Sokka/Zuko

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

(The fact one of the tags in this fic is, "Sibling Dynamic: Fucked Up But Wholesome" should give you an idea what this fic is like. Chaotic as HELL and I just love Azula here, she loves Zuko so much in her messed up way and Zuko loves her back in the exact same way lol. It's batshit and I am Here For This.)

[Naruto]

Eclipse by AislingRoisin (JayBird345) for HybrisAnaideia

Ship: Nara Shikaku/OFC

"In life, it's easier to remain stagnant and wallow in your troubles. But life isn't merely about continued existence, nor is it meant to be gone through alone."

(This is a fic that's slept on and I NEED people to read this. A self-insert fic that I find really interesting in its approach and the worldbuilding for the post-third war shinobi world is fantastic. I feel like there's a certain pattern with self-insert fics, not that is a detriment in any way to how much I enjoy them, so this fic feels fresh to me in a way I haven't read in a while. I am waiting eagerly for this to get updated! Please read!)

On Freedom and Other Formalities by iaso

Ship: Kakashi/Genma/OFC

When push comes to shove, Hiwa Inuzuka doesn't go down easy. Reborn into a new, dangerous world? She puts her past life as a spy to work. Thrown into a war? Hiwa does her duty, for Konoha. And when she's forced into an arranged marriage? All there is to do is beat them to the punch and get married first. Thankfully, Genma Shiranui is willing to lend a hand. Literally. SI/OC

(Listen, LISTEN, it's about the slow burn, the longing, the communication (it both has and hasn't and isn't THAT great??), the messy way you fit three very different people together, it's so freaking good! Also, Kakashi is so Chaotic here this is my fave characterization of him, you can't change my mind. And Genma is a Good Boi who is Doing His Best, along with the Self-insert character who I LOVE SO MUCH, SHE'S FANTASTIC FNEIWOPAF. Sped past this fic in the speed of light, I could not stop reading!)(Honestly, read all of the author's fics, they're all really REALLY good!)

Building a Castle by WhisperingDarkness

Without needing anyone to tell her, Sakura knew that talking to someone no-one else could see or hear would make her weird. It would draw the bad kind of attention to her, something people could make fun of her for.

She didn’t like being weird, but she did like the voice. Her inner voice was helpful and it was a part of her that had always been there. The idea of it not being there would have been so much weirder than anything else.

It was during her first year at the Academy that Sakura realised the voice was not in her head at all, but that it came from a cloudy shape floating next to her.

(Basically a short-ish retelling of Hikaru no Go. Only with more Shogi and Nara and Ninja's)

(Sakura can see ghosts (I'm noticing this is a popular trope for her) and it's really cute haha! Her relationship with Tobirama is sweet and I just enjoyed reading this so much.)

[The Magicians]

So Long (And Thanks For All The Books) by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)

Ships: Quentin/Eliot, James/Julia, Quentin/Margo/Eliot

When Quentin is told Julia wasn't admitted to Brakebills, he realizes he has a drastic decision in front of him. If he tells Julia about magic, he'll have his mind wiped as well as hers. But he can't just leave her behind, either. He can't lose his best friend, and he can't let her life a life with her magical potential stolen away from her.

So he makes a third choice.

(Really, and I mean REALLY well-done canon divergent fic, this is the Quentin & Julia friendship fic I have been looking for forever. It explores so much of what could've happened and I just love Quentin here, I really really do. Characterization done so right. I also recommend the author's other works too. Been a follower of them for a long time, they're great.)

[Game of Thrones]

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

(I swear, this fic made me laugh so many times, all the Stark are BAMF and fantastic, and Rhaegar gets Wrecked lol. It's crack btw, and the plot goes in directions you'll never guess and it's amazing hahaha!)

[Haikyuu!!] (I am very very late to the fandom but here I am)

Ballare (To Dance) by MidnightSparks

Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, and platonic Kageyama & Kentarou (really love their friendship)

Kageyama’s first love is volleyball. His second, however, is ballet.

In one world, Kageyama Tobio is left behind by his parents. In this world, the existence of soulbonds keeps Kageyama’s parents in Miyagi and leaves Kageyama in the care of his grandma and grandpa.

(In which soulmates exist and that changes everything and nothing at the same time.)

(*buries face in hands* I have fallen for this ship so hard and I can't get out fudge me. I understand now. Their DYNAMICS FIEWONPAF)

Kings of Tomorrow by bokubroya (liarielle)

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru

On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.

It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.

(I am WEAK for soulmate fics between these two, I don't even really like soulmate fics half the times what is WRONG WITH ME-)(Please suffer with me, I'm begging you. Its a good fic, thumbs up.)

[Crossover]

Honey and Magic by JustARatherVerySillyWriter, White_Squirrel for Super Carlin Brothers

Fandoms: Matilda (yeah you read that right), Harry Potter

Everyone knew Matilda was a rather extraordinary child, but even she didn't know she was a witch. Matilda Honey receives her Hogwarts letter in the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and soon, she will leave her unique mark on the magical world.

(Do I even need to explain how amazing it is to have Matilda in the wizarding world? And Matilda is a HUFFLEPUFF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL THIS FIC IS GREAT PLEASE READ!!!)

An Eye for an Eye by DpsMercy

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale

In which Jonathan Sims is not from the UK but instead, if you took his origins and turned them sideways twice then flipped them over, he technically would be from the US, the town of Night Vale specifically. Elias can’t do shit about it and gets a headache and slowly creeping madness instead.

(Look, I know probably everyone has read this because if they haven't, what have you been DOING with your lives??? Jon interning at Night Vale is Incredible, nothing phases this man, it's Delightful. I laughed so many times reading this, I'm not even kidding right now. Read or perish.)

The Favour by R_Cookie

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Harry Potter

Percival is ten years old when his grandfather tries to tell him that he's ensured the greatness of the Graves legacy for him, that he ought to be eternally grateful - but the explanation is hijacked by a stranger who manages to intimidate Chester Graves with an ease never seen before.

or: Hadrian (Harry) Potter is the Master of Death, who grants Graves a boon. Nobody could have known that the Deathly Hallows didn't turn you so much into the 'Master of Death' as into the anthropomorphic personification of Death. And so, Death becomes Percival's guardian angel, and Percival does not spit out his cereal.

(Look, I don't know how I stumbled back into the FBAWTFT fandom either, it just happened and I'm grateful for that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found this amazing fic. Their relationship is slow and strange and I just love how Percival is characterized here. Also, one of the tag promises that it deviates from canon so I am really, really excited for that! XD)

baby that's what i do by natanije

Fandoms: Naruto, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

"Are you telling me," Hidan exclaims, incredulous, "that you collect money all this time to give to orphans?!"

Kakuzu pauses. He blinks a few times.

"Huh. I guess I do."

(Tsuna reincarnates as Kakuzu and it's HILARIOUS. HE'S SUCH A MOM HAHAHA)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Podcasts #The Magnus Archives #Supernatural #Avatar The Last Airbender #Naruto #The Magicians #Game of Thrones #Haikyuu!!#Crossover #Matilda #Welcome to Night Vale #Harry Potter #Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them #Katekyou Hitman Reborn

97 notes · View notes

kareofbears · 4 years

Note

bullets 1, 2, 4, 8 and 9 would u kindly bear?

YOOOOO V!!!!! howdy!!! kinda crazy that you wanna hear me keep yelling about things but i am SO not complaining (honestly my beta is so tired of hearing me talk about these things lmfao). not to mention i love this specific ask post so im like, salivating. i’m assuming the same ask since i havent reblogged a numbered ask game list yet? and im also going to assume that i should just go in deeper about 8 and 9 since i answered that one already but hey, no problem i got a lot to say about dialogue.

1. What’s something you’ve written that you know is OOC and you just don’t care?

first though, i wanna talk about ryuji (story of my life). i like to write him as someone who’s actually really smart when it comes to people, and he knows how to work with them. i like to write him as someone who’s sensitive who has extremely high E.Q.

cool, and now it’s sumire time.

look. writing sumire, you have to make her at least somewhat ooc because she ain’t got much going on in canon!!!! if i write her exactly as she is in canon it would be like speaking to a cardboard cutout--you’re not gonna get much out of it. she’s written too blandly for her to be interesting, but she has these tiny aspects ingame where she’s actually quite complex. she’s selfish, actually. she’s an outsider, even in the third-semester. i think she’s quite conniving, and she’s not as naive about the world as people might think she is. but all of these are just hints and the game doesn’t do anything with it!!!! i have my problems with sumire (a lot of them) but she truly doesn’t deserve the hate she gets--she doesn’t deserve hate, she deserves criticism. that’s why ive been writing her quite a bit lately, i wanna breathe live to her in a way atlus didn’t.

2. What’s the most overrated thing you’ve written?

ugh. it absolutely has to be this fic called “Visiting” i wrote for the marvel fandom. i won’t link it because i think its really cringey and self-indulgent, but it’s on my ao3. it got pretty big for some reason, but it’s so...blegh!!!! i hate remembering i what i wrote in it!!!! another one is probably my fic called ergo, eraserhead which i will link because im quite proud of it still. on the flip side, i dont think any of my persona 5 fics will ever get as big as these two fics, and i’m so relieved by that.

4.Something a commenter did point out that you wish they hadn’t.

oof...someone pointed out a flaw in the plot. not technically mean or anything, like they were quite nice about it, but i remember being devastated. i was on the skytrain platform when it happened and i was just so sad for no reason lmfao

8.Something you love to see in dialogue.

hmmmmmmm i love to see interesting dialogue. very vague, i know. i like it when the author has obviously taken time to think about the dialogue, maybe even going as far as to say it out loud to make sure that the flow is smooth. i like dialogue that does more than one thing--instead of having boring dialogue that’s obviously just there to ensure that the viewer can understand the plot (i’m looking at you, star wars prequel trilogy), it also serves to help the viewer understand who these people are and what their dynamic is with their group. dialogue is really really hard to write, and that’s why good dialogue is something that should absolutely be praised.

9. What’s your fandom’s most overused trope?

alright if you want me to bring up soft!goro i guess i’ll do it (sike ive always wanted an excuse to yell about fandom akechi). obvious disclaimer: yes i know fandom is the space where people are allowed to interpret what they want with whatever character they choose, but this is my overly long persona 5 post, and if i’m asked to complain i’m going to complain.

i talked more about it in this post, but i’ll say the gist: every character has a fundamental value that i believe you should never compromise on, because if you change it or get rid of that value, you are no longer writing that character. you’re allowed to change whatever else, but that value should not be changed. an example is akira’s love for his friends: you change that, you’re not writing akira anymore. you change haru’s motivation for kindness in the face of adversity, that ain’t haru anymore. but these are just my examples--different authors can have different fundamental values for different characters.

so back on soft!goro, my fundamental value for akechi is his cynicism. he will always always assume the worst in the world, even if he’s finally moved on from what happened to him. even if he finds people to love who love him back, even if he escaped to another country where knows his name and he doesn’t have to hold up any appearances anymore, i believe that that cycnism will always be a a part of him, for better or for worse. so soft!goro is an interesting concept, because it reminds me something very specific: it reminds of the end of p5r bad ending where the bad reality prevails and akechi turns into someone unrecognizable. because...that’s what soft!goro is.

soft!goro is akechi without the cycnicism--you take that cycnicism away, and you’re not writing akechi anymore. you’re just writing some random guy at this point. and no, it’s not because i don’t want him to be happy--if anything, i have so many ideas of a grown up akesumi fic that i’d love to write. no, it’s because i think even in the far future, he will still have this core belief. it’s an unshakeable fact about akechi. it’s what made him turn into who he is, it’s what led him to commit attrocities, it’s the reason why he died. that cycnicism is engraved in akechi, no matter therapy he may get, or whatever love interest he has, you can’t get rid of that pessimistic outlook that he has.

of course, there’s exceptions to every rule. for example, i have an idea of wriitng an akesumi fic post akechi’s first therapy session. but i’m just saying that as an overall factor: to get rid of akechi, is to murder this complex character for someone generic.

#JESUS THIS IS SO LONG SORRY V #and i was going to add an akeshu thing at the end #but the lord put her hand on my shoulder and said 'no child. the world is not ready for another war'#anyway thanks for the ask v!!!#ask #asks

3 notes · View notes

shattered-catalyst · 5 years

Text

So this isnt for anything other than just to say what happened just so I feel heard and I can explain why I cant be as energetic and socially active on here. Its not a callout post or to be reblogged/shared by people. Its not to get anyone in trouble or to cause any reaction. It’s just for me to let it out and reclaim this space again. Its been a year since it happened and I guess I’m just still noticing how badly it has impacted my PTSD. How much its changed me as a person both online and off, and this isnt a woe as me thing either this is just me feeling a need to be heard and explain my own behavior over the year and also to make one simple request of you guys: no matter what you do, always treat your rp partners as people first and writers second.

Because I feel myself becoming bitter and that isnt who I am and I dont want to be someone like that. Or like this. I want to be me again

The person who did this wont be named mainly because they dont deserve it and yall dont need to know. Their behavior when I confronted them more than cements the impression that they dont see any harm in what they said and how they reacted. And again this isnt about them though In A Way I suppose it is? it takes two to tango but it takes one to encourage someone to kill themselves.

This is going to be long because I need to inform on the activity that lead up to this because it didnt just happen over night- though in a way it did. But you need a better picture of this person because apparently they present a really great face that only a few of us see the manipulative and toxic side of.

This person was always very judgemental and hyper critical. I witnessed a lot of very negative and toxic behavior from them but I was naive and just hoped they would mature as they grew older and gained more independence. I thought it was just a toxic friend group and that perhaps she would recognize her self destructive and immature behavior and grow from it.

My first red flag should have been when they accused me of being their ex girlfriend SOLELY because I was living in PA. I hate to break it to yall, but PA is a big ass state and has a lot of comic book loving ladies. Thankfully I have never met this person IRL and I hope I never do.

They tried to pull me into making fun of other muns on discord, including mocking sensitive pictures from a mun’s personal blog. I blatantly said it wasnt okay and made me uncomfortable and she continued laughing and making jokes about it with her friend group on discord. She kept trying to pull me into it no matter how often I tried to change the subject.

Her group of friends also did this thing where one of them would go interact with a mun an they would take screenshots of the convo and share it with the group and mock the mun they were interacting with. Whether it be their presentation of character/grahics/writing style/ etc.

The other red flags I ignored? How much she complained and mocked other muns and compared them to me; if anyone did anything or said anything she disagreed with it was an instant blow up. She took EVERYTHING personally including other people writing the same characters she did, having differing headcanons, not knowng obscure details about canon, etc.

She once tried to make fun of a new writing partner I had who was writing the same character, and I had to break it to her that this new person could write in her first language if she wanted to; im being very vague but let me just say if you and your character have the same first language and you want to write in it then its completely WRONG for a white mun to try and make fun of you for it.

She once suggested I had stolen pictures off her pinterest when she sent me a moodboard request for my character. Jokes on her I didnt even know she HAD a pinterest and I had gotten all my pictures from the ‘green aesthetic’ tag on tumblr. Which I told her but she kept pushing the idea on me I had stolen them. I of course dismissed this and put it on the back burner despite the alarm bells going off.

This hyper critical and paranoid behavior continues with everything from other canon blogs making similar head canons/ vaguely similar graphics/ to fanfiction authors having similar head canons/plot ideas.

My penname Citrus? I didnt want one. I didnt want it. She demanded I have a pen name and if not she was going to call me Cat. Now as yall know I dont like being enmeshed with my muse so I keep myself separate from them. I didnt like being called Cat and I told her that explicitly. She kept doing it. So I had to make a pen name because she refused to respect my boundaries.

When the Deadpool movie came out she DEMANDED I change my FC to reflect the movie Despite Not Changing Hers to reflect her own characters new look - which might i add is fat erasure. It was clear then that the rules and standards she held other people to didnt apply to herself. I was labeled problematic for not giving into her demands to change FCs (which I have a literal logical reason for not changing and im not explaining that here)

So I shouldve left. Long story short I didnt because every friendship I’d been in until around this time had been abusive and toxic. I thought this was all normal behavior for people to have and I was convinced I was just being critical of someone elses opinions/ insensitive etc. Thanks to my colleagues in graduate school and to several of you on here I learned that ‘hey dumbass friends dont treat your ass like this’.

Im leaving a lot out about the shit she did/said to me but those snippets give you an idea of things.

Leading up she decided to leave fandom and asked we didnt talk about marvel I said cool okay and didnt talk about marvel with her. If I did I would ask first if she was okay if we talked about one small aspect I thought might excite her/ she would like to know about but it wasnt often that happened because she began ghosting me. Hard. She stopped replying to me at all over discord when I would try and talk to her how we used to about our lives. She didnt answer any asks for munday or character development, in fact she blatantly ignored me.

I checked in a couple times with her to make sure I hadnt done anything to make her uncomfortable and she said no. May I emphasize she said no here. Im emphasizing it right now. She said no. She said everything was fine. So when I was like hey dude this is super triggering for me can you send me like a hi every once in awhile just so I can know we’re okay because its super triggering for me. Yall know what she did? She ‘lmao’-ed. she thought that was hecka funny. Yeah triggering ‘Citrus’ is hilarious isnt it? No it isnt and I shouldve cut her ass off right then and there.

Heres where shit gets confusing: she kept fucking talking about marvel to me. Id get messages at random times about marvel and then silence for weeks. I vividly remember during this period I was cleaning the museum vault and she kept messaging me about her marvel fc’s and how she wouldnt get a plotline and how characters were wrong etc.

I remember being REALLY confused because she had said NO MARVEL. But here she was bitching at me about marvel. In fact thats all she did when she did talk to me. Which was only like three or four times during the ghosting time period. She’d bitch about marvel and then vanish.

Shed make claims about not watching her dash and thats why she never responded to me/ interacted with me. She’d say she wasnt talkng to anyone while I see her on the dash TALKING TO PEOPLE and Id like to point out Ive told her I would be fine ending anything as long as she let me know.

but she followed me on every blog and throughout this time period she made and followed me on numerous ones. She kept reaching out sporadically to bitch about her fcs/how horrible marvel was/ and thats it.

It was extremely confusing because if someone doesnt want to talk to me I assume they will; 1. unfollow 2. block 3. say goodbye 4. ghost and stay ghosted.

Not cycle through behavior rapidly. I asked her a few times if we were good and that I was confused and I got another ‘lmao’ reaction so I assumed we were good. At this point I still have no idea what was going on/ what message I was supposed to be receiving other than confusion.

So following this is heavily suicide tw and I encourage you not to read this part and to scroll down until the suicide tw is over which is highlighted in bold- if you’re triggered by that because I care about those who follow my blog.

So thats when this shit happened. I had tried reaching out to her on a different fandom platform to try and maintain the friendship. Because she said numerous times that we were friends. So like I reached out thinking maybe she just didnt want a marvel blog period. It wasnt too long after that that she suicide baited me.

I was in a really bad place and had been for awhile and when I posted about how the only thing holding me on was the new comic coming out and specifically said “im seriously suicidal and this comic is the only thing giving me hope #idk what to do anymore ”. I was surprised when she liked the post.

I was three steps into a four step plan. I had everything but the method planned out and was just waffling along with that. Because yknow its complicated and you do it you make it count amiright. Right. I was in a fucked up place. I had just realized I was gay, I was horrendously depressed, I was in considerable physical pain, I was working 70 hours a week, my OCD was at an all time high and the only thing that kept me on this earth was a fucking comic book. You hold onto what you need to yknow?

WELL APPARENTLY NOT

Because this person who doesnt read her dash? This person who doesnt want to talk about anything? Liked that post where I specifically stated I was suicidal and sent me a discord message saying “dont have hope”.

Thats all it said “dont have hope”

Now I know what youre thinking but hold on because it gets worse.

I said something about being confused I dont really remember because I was pretty out of it. I do remember she kept going on about how horrible the comic would be and that it would be a piece of trash. I remember telling her I was really numb and in a bad place and couldnt feel anything. I remember her sending me screencaps and continuing to go ON AND ON about how it wasn’t worth reading.

I remember with gross intensity how someone who said they were my friend was taking away the only thing that was keeping me alive.

I dont remember how the conversation ends. I called out of work for the next three days. I was catatonically depressed and unable to really move. I didnt eat either. I went to internship, work, and school in a state of dissociation.

I took screencaps of everything and set them aside for later. IDK what I was going to use them for but I set them in a folder on my desktop, looking back I regret what I did next; because I deleted them. I deleted them because I thought maybe she had been manic or drunk and hadn’t realized the scope of what was happening. I wanted to talk to her about it and clear things up because I believed in her. I believed there was no way she would be so callous as to do that on purpose. No way would someone try and get someone they called a friend to kill themselves. So I deleted the screencaps and my post on tumblr. I deleted all evidence to protect her and I encourage you all never to fucking do that even if you think that person misunderstood the gravity of your situation. Because if you’re wrong no ones going to believe you.

I remember shifting between intense depression and total denial.

I spent the rest of that month in and out of intense dissociative states when I wasnt in class or working with my clients. During the middle of October my sister sent me pictures of a litter of puppies and I was like ‘well, i really need to either kill myself or make sure i dont’. I spent a few days continuing to waffle with that decision but then i remembered my mom cosigned my loans and I cant leave her with that debt because fuck we cant even afford my funeral to begin with. So I adopted a dog, I named him Julio to remind me to keep living and he finally came to me on halloween.

He was the only reason I left bed on my days off. I tried not to think about it but I did.

I continued to spiral with heavier dissociative episodes and vivid nightmares about it.

SUICIDE TW OVER

I waited until Christmas to ask her to clarify the situation and let her know I no longer felt comfortable writing with her. I reminded her what happened and told her to check her discord if she wanted to see for herself etc.

She sent two long asks of combative, emotionally abusive, and gaslighting accusations. The first thing she did was say I needed to provide evidence if I went around making accusations like that. Then she cascaded into how I always talked about marvel *points up to where i explained what happened earlier*. She tried gaslighting me like a champion and tried turning me into a horrible person the only problem is everything she was accusing me of doing was the shit she was doing to me. Everything.

Even if I was bad at any time I had given her numerous chances to tell me I was overstepping a boundary- she always said no. I gave her numerous times to unfollow me if she wasnt interested in interacting with me- she never did. In fact I had unfollowed her that month because of her behavior towards me and she hadnt even noticed.

I let her know I could tell she was angry, and that I didnt take receipts of private conversations because I believed in settling things like adults, and that if she ever wanted any proof it was all in her discord anyway. I let her know she could contact me to apologize but otherwise I didnt want her on any of my blogs and I told her the first thing she should have done wasnt demand receipts but she should have asked if I was okay. Its a real reflection of where her priorities were when she demands evidence rather than checks to see if a writing partner is okay.

Even if I did something horrible it doesnt warrant someone trying to get me to end my life.

I was notified she put a post on her blog apologizing to her followers for being a bad friend and that she was a horrible person and ofc everyone was like ‘noooo youre perfect’ and its like ya thats not for me who hasnt followed her in months- thats to save face.

Her friends blogs kept visiting my profile and going through the month where this happened.

Everything she did and said was to save face. Her blog and her reputation are the only thing she cared about. She has never approached me to apologize or anything of the sort and I doubt she ever will. I would hope she would never do this again and I hope she has grown as a person since. That her life is better and her mother is okay, that shes happy and learning.

I know by posting this I will never receive an apology- then again i never expected one to begin with. I could go through all the trouble of restoring the deleted files but to be honest it isnt worth it because theres no room in my life for that type of toxicity.

Since this happened I:

I have stronger episodes of depression and dissociation since.

My PTSD has increased and I have week long spikes in anxiety attacks, depression and decreased self worth if I even see her around the rpc despite being blocked, blacklisted on xkit etc.

Have more difficulty completing basic self care tasks due to an increase in depression and a decrease in self worth.

I have nightmares about this event and her to this day a year later.

I cannot interact with the RPC how I once did as I fear seeing her on my dash or any sort of information getting back to her about me.

It took me half a year to see the character she wrote as as safe again and for awhile I couldnt even look at him without experiencing an anxiety attack.

I keep having nightmares. Its been a year and I still have nightmares about this.

I find myself having more difficulties connecting with people online especially on this blog. I’m constantly on edge when interacting with people and I feel spikes of anxiety at the merest thought of someone talking about me to her.

I find myself unable to have confidence as a writer or creator online because I have been reminder of the cement wall between oc characters and their canon counterparts.

I cannot go out and just follow anyone and be friendly and trusting with them anymore, even with people I already know. In the back of my mind is a constant reminder of how she and her friends used to check up on people and pretend to write with them/ interact with them just to take screenshots of conversations to share with the group. I have become a paranoid little bitch in the past year is what Im saying. like theres 0 need for that shit.

I blocked most of the people she interacted with simply to save myself from being triggered by her blogs/ mentions of her and that isnt fair to those people.

I remember the photo incident and how people derived such joy from mocking someones body. I can think of so many incidents of them making fun of others and I remember how that could be happening about me rn, and I wonder if anyone would stick up for me like I did for the other mun.

I hope by posting this I can try and return to the person I was before this happened. I can try and not be so bitter and reach out again to others. That somehow I can continue working on making tumblr a safe place for me again and not a PTSD laced minefield.

I would like to remind this isnt a callout and I request if you know who this is about you dont say anything to them. This isnt for them. They have NEVER reached out to apologize for their actions. They have NEVER checked to see if I was okay after that. They have NEVER shown any remorse for encouraging me to kill myself and while I hope they’ve grown from the situation and will never do it again I doubt I will ever get closure from such an event. But i DO hope by writing this I can take this place back.

Consider this my first step towards bringing this up to a therapist.

Consider this another step to me taking this blog back and feeling safer here; and maybe just maybe Ill make up a cool pen name for myself and own that shit.

If you’ve read this far thank you for your patience with me, and I request you always treat your writing partners like the people that they are.

This post is not intended or written to leave this blog and therefore I request you not reblog it or share segments of it with ANYONE. If I find you have shared anything on here without my explicit permission I will block you.

‘Citrus’

#suicide tw #gaslighting tw #emotional abuse tw

6 notes · View notes

mischievousmoony · 6 years

Text

Doubtful || pt. IV

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: An unexpected team-up between you, a Slytherin, and the proud Gryffindors that go by “The Marauders” causes an unexpected relationship between you and the one and only Sirius Black.

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV // Part V // Part VI

––––––––––

Early Monday morning Sirius lied on his bed, staring contemplatively at the ceiling while his roommates minded their own business. No one even seemed to care about the noise James was making with whatever he was working on.

“Hey, guys?” Sirius spoke first, grabbing his friends’ attention, “I’ve got a question.”

Remus, despite being behind on the assignment, turned away from his defense homework, “We’re listening,” he said, kicking James, who wasn’t actually listening.

Sirius took a deep breath, hoping his friends wouldn’t make fun of him, “When a girl says you’re friends, does that mean you’re stuck in the friendzone or can you be friends before being… well, more?”

Sirius cringed. He couldn’t believe he was actually asking this, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’s never struggled with something like this before. He’s never even felt this way before.

While Sirius was quietly suffering, James’ attention had been won over when he processed Sirius’ words. His head popped up to peer over his bed, which hid his body since he was sitting next to it on the floor, “Well, Padfoot, Lily doesn’t even think of me as a friend yet and we’re definitely gonna be something more.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Don’t listen to James. He doesn’t know anything.”

“Hey! Neither do you!” James retaliated, “You’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“By choice. You, on the other hand, can’t even get one date with one girl that you’ve liked for years.” Remus said in a teasing manner but James was easily offended.

James’ jaw dropped a little before he got his composure back, “Don’t act as if you’ve got a line of girls waiting to be with you! That’s not how it works!”

“I’m not saying that!” Remus defended, “I’m just saying I’ve had a few people like me before so I’d know a bit more than you.”

“People have liked me!” James said, shooting an angry look at Remus.

“But you’ve been too distracted with Lily to actually notice them, so you aren’t in a place to give advice. I, however, am a very observant person.” Remus countered.

“I think I know the most. I’ve had a girlfriend and none of you have.” Peter finally spoke up from where he was sitting, crisscrossed, on his bed.

Remus stifled a laugh, “Peter that was for a week in second year. Doesn’t count.”

James drew his eyebrows together in slight anger, “Why are you acting like you’re the king of dating. Stop acting like a di-”

“Oi! We’re supposed to be talking about me!” Sirius suddenly interrupted. His friends arguing was beginning to give him a headache.

James relaxed, bringing his attention to Sirius, “You’re right, we’ll deal with Remus’ ego issues later.”

“C’mon I’m not saying I’m the number one ladies man, I just love messing with you Prongs,” Remus shot James a toothy smile, “The ladies man here would actually be Sirius, so something must be terribly wrong.”

“Ha, ha, Remus,” Sirius rolled his eyes but was used to it. Being teased by his friend was a regular thing for a Marauder, so he wasn’t really bothered. What bothered him was that none of his friends were paying attention to his question, “Are you idiots ready to listen yet?”

Sirius looked at each of his friends, who all seemed to be finally paying attention. For once. But now that he had their full attention, Sirius found himself becoming insecure. They were probably going to laugh at him… No, they’re his best friends.

“Right, so,” Sirius looked at his red sheets, picking at any loose threads he could find, “how do you know if your friend-zoned?”

Sirius was met by silence. His friends all thought about it until Remus finally spoke up.

“James you should take this one, the friendzone is your specialty,” Remus joked, bringing a scowl to James’ face.

“You’re acting like a real git today Moony,” James shook his head.

“Ignore him and just-just help me,” Sirius sighed, switching from laying on his back to on his stomach.

James opened his mouth to speak but Peter beat him to it, “But before that,” he started, eliciting a groan from Sirius, “Who are you worried about being friend-zoned by?”

Sirius’ demeanor changed from annoyed to uncomfortable in the blink of an eye. He seriously didn’t think this through. He couldn’t say it was you! They’d say something stupid about you being in Slytherin.

“Isn’t it obvious,” Remus raised a brow, looking between a clueless Peter and an equally clueless James. Remus rolled his eyes at their obliviousness, “It’s the Slytherin girl he spent detention with. He’s been weird ever since and I bet he won’t deny it either.”

Suddenly all eyes were on Sirius and as much as he loved attention he wasn’t so fond of it this time.

“No,” James said in almost a whisper. James wasn’t the quiet type, though, “No! What!? The Slytherin?” He shouted, utterly shocked.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Prongs-”

“Of course it’s a big deal, Moons! She’s in Slytherin! Slytherin!” James shouted but didn’t think anyone quite understood, “Pete, back me up!”

Peter looked between James and Sirius, contemplating which side to take. He took a deep breath after making up his mind, “A lot of bad people come from Slytherin…”

“Exactly!” James yelled excitedly, “Slytherin’s are bad news. Y/N is-”

“Shut it, James!” Sirius finally burst, “Don’t you dare, you hear me? Don’t say anything bad about her! Do you not remember her protecting that first year a few days ago. That Gryffindor first year? Don’t you remember fighting with her? Sure Slytherin’s have a bad record but she’s different!”

James rolled his eyes at Sirius, wondering how his best friend could be so naive, “You’ve known her for a few days, Pads. How would you know?”

Sirius began to turn red with anger. Who does James think he is? Sure, a few days ago Sirius would have said the same thing but after meeting you he knew that wasn’t the case. And now James needed to be put in his place. But before he could even open his mouth, Remus took the stage.

“Prongs, Sirius is right. Haven’t you seen Y/N around?” Remus asked and James only looked confused. Remus rolled his eyes, and as usual, was somehow prepared to back Sirius up, “She’s always been against Slytherins like Lestrange, Snape, and their friends. If you paid close enough attention in class you’d realize anytime the war comes up she speaks for the right side.”

“You know she doesn’t even have friends in Slytherin?” Peter piped up, “She’s always hanging out with a group of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you two fancied her with all the knowledge you have about her,” James said, but not with as much hostility as he had before.

Remus rolled his eyes, “Everyone whispers about the Slytherin girl that doesn’t act like a Slytherin, James. And like I said, I’m observant.”

James sighed, turning to look at Sirius, “You really like her?”

This caught Sirius off guard. He hadn’t had time to think about it that much. All he knew is that he’d hate to be friend-zoned by her and he likes spending time with her… and she’s got a really good personality, and she’s funny, and pretty, and has really nice hair that smells like vanilla and almonds, and…

“Yeah,” Sirius admitted, finally, to himself and to his friends, “Yeah, I do.”

James smiled softly. Sirius may have been known as quite the Casanova but he’d never ever talked about really liking someone. As far as James knew this was the most serious he had ever been about a girl. He was kind of proud, like a parent watching their kid grow up.

James wasn’t going to be sour about her house and mess this up for Sirius, “Slytherin or not, if Sirius likes her so do I. Now about being friend-zoned?”

A wide smile spread across Sirius’ face, only to become a ghost of a smile when he realized what started this conversation, “Right, well yesterday she called me her friend. Like, she said something about caring for each other because we were friends now.”

Sirius would have gone on, but Remus once again interrupted him, “Oh that’s not the friend-zone.”

“Remus is right,” James chimed in, “That’s just the start of your relationship. And she was talking about caring about each other? There’s definitely no way.”

Sirius was relieved. He’d finally admitted his feelings it would suck for there to be no hope.

“And I agree, can we go get breakfast now? I’m starving!” Peter said, standing from his bed.

“Wait!” James said frantically, “I just want to finish this up, it’s for Lily.”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all rolled their eyes simultaneously.

“James, I’m sure it can wait. Lily will reject you no matter how soon you give her, uh, whatever that is. Let’s go get breakfast.” Remus said, grabbing his robes and making his way out of the dorms.

“Hey!” James frowned but followed nonetheless.

“D’you think she likes you back?” Peter wondered aloud.

Sirius frowned, “Doubtful. She only became my friend yesterday.”

“That’s okay,” James grinned, “I know exactly how to win a girl over!”

“James… No. Just no.” Sirius said, making Remus and Peter laugh.

“What?” James asked, honestly clueless.

Remus shook his head, “Let’s just hurry up and get to the Great Hall.”

At the same time, down by the dungeon’s, you were heading towards the same place. After Pomfrey set you free you made your way to your dorm to change into some clean clothes, and now you were out again to get something to eat.

You expected another regular morning where you’d sit semi-alone, sharing silent conversations with your friends from different tables, struggling to read each other’s lips until you gave up and decided to talk about it later.

However, instead of regular, you got Regulus.

Two hands had roughly grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an empty classroom and then shutting the door. Only then did Regulus turn on the lights and reveal his identity.

You gripped your wand tighter, expecting trouble, “What are you? A murderer? With you pulling me into a dark room like this if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were but we both know you don’t have what it takes. Has he figured that out yet? Kicked you to the curb yet?”

Regulus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ignore what you said, “Just for the record, I haven’t met him.”

“Yet,” you muttered, and Regulus either didn’t hear you or didn’t care because he tried to change the topic.

“You’re out of the hospital wing.” He said dumbly.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with your wand still tightly grasped in your hand, “Well seeing as this isn’t the hospital wing I’d say that’s a very accurate observation.”

“Right,” Regulus said awkwardly, “I thought you’d be there longer-”

“Yeah I bet that’s what you and your friends hoped but you don’t always get what you want,” you spat.

“I never said hoped!” He said almost too quickly. He regained his composure and then began again, “I just thought you’d be in there longer considering how you were after…”

You wondered if this was seriously all he brought you in here for. What the hell was this?

Your confusion wasn’t stopping you from your angry remarks, though, “Yeah, when seven people cast a stinging jinx on you at the same time the effects aren’t exactly pretty.”

“Six,” Regulus said plainly.

You could’ve sworn you just lost a brain cell or two, “I don’t know if you can count, Regulus, but there were seven of you and you all-”

“I didn’t,” Regulus said softly, “Believe me, if all seven of us did the effects would be worse. You’d still be in the hospital wing. You take Arithmancy, right? So you’d know seven is a powerful number. You know if all seven of us did it’d be worse.”

Everything he was saying made sense and you hated that. Maybe the stinging jinx was just naturally weak, but that wasn’t true. You’ve seen just one person’s jinx do some real damage, seven at the same time would hospitalize you for days.

“You believe me,” Regulus said, a glint of hope in his eyes.

“I know better than to ever believe anything you say. I learn from my mistakes,” you said coldly, obliterating any sense of hope Regulus had.

His expression softened, “Y/N-”

“No.” You stopped him, “So maybe you didn’t cast the spell, but I know you have your reasons. You did it on purpose so you’d have something to try and-and regain my trust or something!”

Regulus took another deep breath. He really didn’t want to lose his temper right now, “Look we don’t have time for this. This isn’t what I brought you here to talk about.”

You waited for him to go on but when he didn’t after half a minute of silence you decided he needed a push. With sarcasm laced in each word, you asked, “Care to elaborate? Or would you rather draw it out and have me guess why you kidnapped me in a game of Pictionary?”

Regulus was surprised you were willing to listen without any more fighting, “Right! Wait, what’s Pictionary?”

Before you could even roll your eyes Regulus took back his last questions with a shake of his head, “Not the point, sorry. Uh, look they’re coming after you.”

Now you were the one who was surprised. You expected the Death Eater Trainees would be after you as soon as you were well, but you never expected Regulus to warn you about it. You never even expected Regulus to talk to you alone. Not by choice, at least. Not after what happened.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was if Regulus felt like talking then he was going to talk, “I’m gonna need a few more details.”

He was taken aback. He expected you to say something sarcastic about him helping you, but he knew that would probably happen later and that he should just use the time he had to explain.

“After they noticed you’d been released from the hospital wing they decided they weren't satisfied with the damage they’ve already done,” he began, leaning against a desk in the room, “They’re gonna try to get you alone. They’ll be waiting near your classes and in the common room all day. But if there are enough witnesses or a Professor around they won't do anything, they don’t want to get in any more trouble with the school than they’re already in. But if they catch you in the common room I don’t think any number of witnesses will stop them.”

There was a pause while you took all the information in. Regulus was saying to keep people around you at all times and avoid the common room, but something about the way he said it made your blood boil.

“Why do you say ‘they’ as if you won’t be right by there side?” You spat, voice laced with disgust for the person in front of you.

Regulus mimicked a fish, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly as he searched for the correct words, “I-I, well we- they... I mean... Well I’m here, aren’t I? I didn’t have to warn you.”

“You didn’t have to do a lot of things, Regulus,” you said his name like it was poison, and the harshness of your tone almost made him flinch but you paid no mind to it, “Why are you here? Why are you warning me?”

“I just-” Regulus looked lost. Scared, almost. Not by you but by what he was about to admit, “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Your jaw dropped. Was he joking? You wanted to say a million things to him. You had a million insults, a million comebacks, a million sarcastic remarks but you would only manage one shaky statement.

“You’ve already hurt me.”

Regulus opened his mouth to respond but you were already halfway to the door, muttering a halfhearted, “Thanks for the heads-up.”

You didn’t think you’ve ever left somewhere faster. The need to put as much distance between you and someone else has never been greater for you, so the only thing on your mind was getting away and doing it quickly.

Only when you reached the great hall did everything Regulus said sink in. You paused at the entrance, processing everything in your mind. You were supposed to be careful. Sure, there was always the chance Regulus was lying to make you paranoid, but something about the situation told you he wasn’t.

You’d just have to tread lightly for a while. They’d get bored eventually if their attempts continued to fail, so somehow you’d have to make sure they failed. Somehow you’d have to avoid confrontation from seven people who were all in the same house as you while also attending classes you shared with at least one of them.

They’d corner you by the end of first period.

At least if you tried to do it alone. But if you had help things would be different. But who could you ask for help?

Suddenly Sirius’ voice erupted from somewhere behind you, “James! Stop messing around, you’re slowing us down!”

That’s one idea. But did you really want to involve him in your issues?

“Sod off, Sirius,” James responded, “You’re just impatient because you want to see-”

“Y/N,” Sirius interrupted, “Hi.”

You turned your body to face the boys, “Hi Sirius,” you smiled, “Sirius’ friends” you acknowledged, earning a nod from each of them.

“Heading to breakfast?” Sirius asked, mentally cursing himself for asking something so stupid. Why couldn’t he be normal around you?

You contemplated your options. You knew the Slytherins wouldn’t dare try anything in the Great Hall, but once they saw you they wouldn’t take their eyes off you and they’d find a way to corner you soon.

“No, actually. I’m just gonna skip breakfast, I’m not that hungry,” you said but your stomach betrayed you, grumbling loud enough for Sirius to hear.

“Not hungry, huh?” He teased, but as if someone flipped a switch in his brain he went from teasing to concerned, “What’s wrong? Why won’t you go in?”

“It’s nothing, I just, um,” you groaned, frustrated with yourself for not being able to come up with an excuse.

Sirius took a step closer, “Y/N, what is it?” Even his friends seemed to be concerned as you searched for the words to say.

You sighed, even if you had only known Sirius for a few days you knew he wasn’t the type of person to let it go, “Well, I’m sort of in trouble.”

––––––––––

Next Part

Note: haha I’m so funny Regulus instead of regular I’m the dumbest, cringiest person I know. also I’m not bringing in Regulus for a love triangle don’t worry that’s not what’s happening

182 notes · View notes

dropsofletters · 7 years

Text

Golden King

Title: Golden King Pairing: Lee Taemin/Reader Genre: King!AU Summary: Taemin was a king that had buried his memories deep in his heart, but once they come back in his life he would return to that love that made him feel like the luckiest man alive. However, it isn’t so easy to hide secrets when you are the king of a country.

Chapter I//Chapter II//Chapter III//Chapter IV: “Am I in time?”

Whenever he returned to the castle after a long journey around the country, he felt a little bit empty. Beautiful sceneries and homemade meals were replaced by the sound of nothingness in dinners that the chef made and blank stares between Taemin and his wife. It was one of the things that Taemin hated the most, how time went by so fast and before he could guess it, she was out of the picture and he was there, living the life of a king that lived in seas of lies that he just wanted to ease out. It seemed like his father had noticed that something was off because he was sitting at the table with him and his mother was looking at him from time to time, wanting to start some kind of conversation but he couldn’t get the words out. Long ago he had lost the ability to talk to them with trust and it hurt him to say those words, but they had pushed him to be this perfect king that didn’t speak up for himself and that’s what they’ll get, a rock that won’t say a word, a reminder of what could’ve been if only…

If only things were different.

Taemin starts questioning those words as he sees the frown over his father’s face and he calls one of the butlers over and whispers something in his ear, but Taemin already knows what it is. The king always wanted people to work for him –or the previous king, for the matter- and Taemin should be that way, a person that couldn’t do things for himself, but he had surprised the entire castle by helping other people out. Once he asked Kibum how to sew because he was interested in the art of taking pieces of cloth and putting them together to create the well looking suits that he had to wear for those big meetings he attended; other times he would be sitting with Jinki in the farm and even asking about certain animals and how they were supposed to be treating, getting his body full of mud and laughing through it all. The person that arrived was one that he had gotten to know a lot since he had broken up with her and his usual black clothing was replaced by that ridiculous uniform that had Taemin hiding his laughter behind a spoonful of his food.

Kim Jonghyun, the palace’s buffoon.

The man hid his sudden need to eat the food that was on the table with a fake smile and he got to work, his plump lips spilling jokes that sometimes were a little bit too harsh for the elegant and dense people that were on said table. Jonghyun’s jokes were always intelligent, naively making people believe that he wasn’t making fun of them when he really was –sneakily so, but he was doing it. His hands moved with every gesture and Taemin’s mother was trying to hide her embarrassment with her food, eating as elegantly as possible as Jonghyun slumps his shoulders after a joke that he said wasn’t laughed at…except for one person. The prince was holding his laughter by biting his bottom lip until he couldn’t hide it anymore and his hand collided against the table as he threw his head back in rich laughter, hearing a few of the butlers and servants trying to muffle their laughter as well, perhaps in fear of getting scolded by the previous king and queen. Iseul fixed the edge of her dress and cleared her throat as Taemin calmed down. Jonghyun opened his mouth to say something else, already thinking of something to say until-

“Taemin, stop it.” The previous king says sternly and Taemin raises one of his eyebrows, looking at the male that seemed to get happier when he scolded his son. Taemin was tired of the strings that wrapped around him like never ending constrictions for him to reach his dreams. He could never do this or that and it was something that made him frown most of the time, he was never disrespectful to anyone…but whatever he did was always wrong in the eyes of his parents, who were too elegant and far up their own little fantasy to understand that the king was human, Lee Taemin had always be imperfect and they have to get it through their thick skulls. “I can’t believe you rule a country like that.” The comment makes Taemin chuckle sarcastically as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“The land is better than how it was when you were ruling it.” Taemin’s words get through his father’s brain and he was about to spill something towards him, something that could have hurt him long ago but the king only shushed him. “I am tired of hearing you complain about everything I do…I can promise something to you, father, and it is that this land will be happier in my hands than it ever was in yours.” He meant those words because he had given everything he had for this land, his youth and desires just to see it grow like a flower that had been destroyed by his father’s power, but now it seemed a little bit closer, it was’ a dream anymore. A few years ago, Taemin would’ve hated being a king…but now he see what he can do and fixing a bit of the world helped him feel better with himself and his broken heart. “I am making history.”

His father laughs quite loudly but it falls into deaf ears as he speaks. “You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me, ungrateful little piece of shit.” He says as he points at his son with his chopsticks before placing a bit of his food inside his mouth, thinking of what else he could say. “…You always think that we are against you because we didn’t let you live like a commoner, but look at every single prince that has committed mistakes-” Taemin can recall some princes that were his friends at least once in his life, but now he was too worried in his own thoughts to reunite with them anymore. “Prince Luhan, for example, what a fucking disgrace he is…he is with one of his servants and his land laughs at him.” The chopsticks he was eating with were placed down before he looked over at his son. “You would have been just like him, a promise we made when you were just a kid that never got fulfilled.”

“I can’t believe you talk about your friend’s son that way.” Taemin says lowly as he stands up from the bed, leaving the cloth he had over his legs on top of his chair before bowing towards the chefs. He shouldn’t have had dinner with his family, he should’ve stayed in the balcony as always, looking at the city that she wasn’t in anymore…A part of himself was wondering if he should just leave, a little vacation to keep himself in place, he had already finished with his plans for a few weeks before going back to reunions, meetings and whatnot, besides, he’d be somewhere in the and- “I will be at my room. I hope no one needs me.”

That uninvited guest that always arrive leaves the door open after she enters the room and he sadly feels like she’s unwelcomed, even when she wore such beautiful dresses every day and she tried to keep up with him, her fake words and even faker touches making him feel like a shell of what he was. Taemin was trying to look out the window that wasn’t there anymore, so he just kept his gaze fixated on the pictures that now decorated said space, some from his wedding, others with his parents and some of when he was a kid, giggling and smiling like he never did. His hands grip the sheets that covered his legs and he wondered, he asked himself if he made the right decision…or if life made a right decision for him. It killed him that people were brain washed enough to think that anything that someone said was correct; even Taemin as a king made mistakes, sometimes he stuttered or he forgot someone’s names, but he never tried to change the land’s point of view. Some people liked him, others preferred the asshole that was his father, but he was happy with knowing that most people enjoyed his stay.

A pair of hands falls over his covered shoulders and he sees Iseul sitting beside him, her hands occasionally being looked at by her eyes because she had to keep her manicure in check. Perhaps, Iseul would be a great woman for another type of man, one that didn’t like conversation as much or one that loved her, but neither of them loved each other and he couldn’t be with someone that was so immersed in all the particularly stereotypical parts of being in a kingdom. Iseul clears her throat and then she looks up at him, long eyelashes fluttering against her soft skin that didn’t have a line, a wrinkle, not even dark circles because Iseul had never worked as hard as the woman he loved did, she had never gone through pain…she only cared about facilities.

“Your parents are right.” When aren’t they? Taemin thinks sarcastically because she’ll always be by their sides, knowing that they were the ones that prepared their marriage and the party that came after that. She felt like a princess, more like a queen now and someone like her wouldn’t give up a spot like the one she had dreamt about since she was a kid. “You don’t know how egoistic you’re being right now. Like that prince that they talked about –who would want to be with a commoner and lose a land that depends on you?” Sadly, he did what he did because he didn’t want to disappoint the community he had to lead, but now he saw red…red because he felt passion for two things in life and it was his job as a king and her, her body and personality, every curve and line in her body that made her…the woman he had fallen in love with. He loved, too much for Taemin’s liking, and when one loves something so much…you can’t just let go.

Taemin chuckles lightly and that makes her frown the slightest, perhaps because she was too scared of getting wrinkles over her pretty face. “Listen, Iseul, I know I am everyone’s way of making things work. I am the king, your husband and most importantly, I am the stupidest man you’ll ever meet in your life.” The king adds as he stands up from the bed, opening one of the doors that lead to a wardrobe only to get his luggage out before searching through things, making Iseul shake her head quickly. “But let’s stop pretending that we care about each other…at least in front of people who know the truth.” Taemin points out with a sharp glare, one that could cut if he wanted. “If it wasn’t me, then it would have been any other of the kings that you flirt with…princes even. Now you’re one to talk but five or so years ago you were dating prince Luhan and it doesn’t exactly mean it’s wrong, it’s just the reality.” His hands place a few shirts, trousers, suits that were all fabricated by Kibum and were completely expensive, but he knew that he liked the style that was given to him. “And my reality right now is that I need to have some time off and I will fulfill my duties as a king from somewhere in the land just to take a breather.”

“You can’t-!” Iseul tells him rather too loudly and then she laughs, more like giggles in a girly manner to get her fake persona back. “Taemin, I can admit that I haven’t been the most truthful in this relationship…but I know that you shouldn’t run away from me.” The queen adds with a small smile and then her hands go towards his waist, trying to hug him from behind. “It has taken you so long to forget about that damned fruit girl…you didn’t find someone else, did you?” The question makes Taemin tightens his fist and he only shakes his head before taking her hands in his to pull her away lightly. “Taemin-”

“Excuse me.” Taemin mumbles to her before opening his mouth to call someone over. “Choi Minho!” The scream is enough to make loud footsteps be heard around the hall before someone went to his room easily, much more after Iseul had left the door open. The butler was wearing his suit as usual and he had cut his hair for the sake of stopping his mother from complaining about his long hair. His best friend immediately looks at the way Taemin’s eyes radiated a fire and he gave Minho a small, thankful smile. “Get your things done, we’ll be travelling.” The king adds and normally, a butler had to listen to everything a king had to say, much more when all your family served them, but Minho was Taemin’s friend and he knew that sometimes he had the worst ideas ever. Like the stars were at the moon’s mercy, Minho did whatever Taemin thought, but sometimes the moon had the worst ideas to get to see the sun.

“Travelling...sure, but why-?” His words are cut off once Taemin looks at him, tilting his head to the side slightly as a way of telling him to not question his actions. The story seems to fit together like a puzzle, much more after the king spent an entire hour talking about how he found found her somewhere in the land and Minho crosses his arms over his shoulder. “King, we surely shouldn’t be getting out of the castle, you should rest.”

“I want to rest somewhere else, then.”

When will Taemin let Minho win an argument?

The answer is never, much less when Minho is carrying his luggage over his shoulder –and he thanks the heavens that Taemin wasn’t so much of a picky king and carried his- whilst he looked around town and taking in the different atmosphere. Minho had seen a fair expanse of the land and he could say that there was variety, but said place was more of a greenish city, with taller trees and bigger environments full of empty spaces and smaller houses. The king seemed to be looking for something, although he enjoyed his surroundings as well, but his eyes –that were properly covered so no one would notice was there- looked for a certain person, a certain woman that Minho knew all too well. Silently so, he expected the king to forget about her the moment he got married, the butler was tired of seeing his best friend being completely immersed in the thought of a love that couldn’t happen, but life was always that way and Minho couldn’t change whatever was inside Taemin’s mind. His footsteps get heavier and he sees the king walking diligently towards the house he had stayed at with Kibum, which not only he had taken the time during the the trip there to rent it for a few weeks, but he also made sure that everything was under Minho’s name…

At least he’s not the one paying it.

“So…” Minho trots over to where Taemin was, looking through his pockets for the keys of the house as he nods his head for the butler to continue. “All these years I thought that you had finally settled your head, but it seemed like you found her and I know as a fact that I won’t stop you.” He tells him and a smirk appears over Taemin’s features as he opens the door rapidly, his luggage on the floor as he places the keys inside the lock before opening it with a little bit of difficulty. “As far as I know, she must have ran away from you-” The moment Taemin turns around to say something back to Minho –perhaps comment a bit on how happy she seemed once she saw him-, a frown appears over his features when he sees that typically charming man that could have passed as a prince if only he wasn’t so humble looking. Kyungsoo was there –or more like the king swears that was his name- and not only was he talking to Jongin, but he seemed to be excited about whatever the taller man was saying. Whether it showed or not, Taemin knew it was that way…there was something about people who didn’t show their feelings through their expressions and the black haired male could read them perfectly well. “…And really, I thought you would have forgotten by now-”

“Sh!” Taemin says as he places his hand over Minho’s mouth and makes the butler turn around, partially covering his body with the butler’s broader shoulders as he speaks behind him. “That short man that is with Jongin is presenting a contract to them so they can have a fruit shop here, which is mainly the reason why she wanted to come here and all…” The king trails his voice but there is this bitter feeling inside his tongue. Usually, he would be the calm type but he won’t believe that Kyungsoo guy, not today or tomorrow, not even in twenty years from them. “But somehow I don’t believe him, so if you could do me the favor to investigate his family name, he goes by the name of Do Kyungsoo.”

“I don’t have to investigate that much.” Minho shrugs his shoulders after smacking the king’s hand away and he looks over at Jongin, who was walking casually with the shorter male as they spoke. “The Do family, owners of a variety of businesses around the country, they are six brothers, all born in a humble environment because his father comes from a poor family and he wanted to keep a tradition.” The butler crosses his arms over his chest as he sees the two males continuing with their walk until they were unseen by them. “He’s the second youngest, I believe, and I think he is one of the few that isn’t far up their asses with all the money they have, partially because he wasn’t that good of a student-”

“How do you even know that?” Taemin asks in a rushed whisper and the butler chuckles, patting his shoulder before picking up his luggage from the floor.

“One of my cousins dated his oldest brother; they broke up because he was a typical rich kid, just like the members of the kingdom that go to the castle.” The older male opens the door slightly with a movement of his hip before placing his luggage inside, only closing the door when he saw that the king had entered. “I think Kyungsoo was fifteen at the time, sent her a letter saying that he was sorry for his brother’s wrongdoings and still, his dad doesn’t trust him enough to have a business.”

Taemin scoffs loudly as he takes a seat on the couch, stretching his muscles after sitting down for so long. “You paint him as if he was a true gentleman,” The king adds and Minho nods his head, as if it was real…he was trying to state just that. “I think I am walking on shattered glass here. He sees a single woman with the need of a place where she can develop a business and he looks like he hasn’t broken a rule once in his life, the king is technically not connected to her at all-”

“And it wouldn’t be so wrong of her to see someone else.” Those words make Taemin feel like he fell down from cloud nine and once he landed on earth, he was welcomed by nothingness, a full desert that match his –then- blonde hair that he had when he met her. It’s not often that Taemin stops dreaming, much less after he had started falling in love with her. “She would be going on a date, kissing him at most…but you got married, that’s all the needs to know to continue with her life.”

“But I am not truly married.”

“To the eyes of the world, you are.” Minho adds and he sits down beside Taemin, his eyes trembling a bit as he tries to recompose what he was saying because he surely doesn’t want the king to feel bad, but also he doesn’t want him doing something out of jealousy that could bring the entire land to know about his little love affair. “She had chosen to stay behind...because you couldn’t have a normal life if she didn’t go away, she could have easily told everyone about your relationship with her, but she backed out because you had to continue with your life…” A soft sigh leaves his lips and then he pats Taemin’s thigh. “Would it be so wrong to let her go?”

“It is not letting go because I still have time.” His legs move quickly and he’s up on his feet in no time, he’s pacing and turning and Minho almost feels like he needs a pill for dizziness because Taemin surely moved fast, all because of his long legs. “I have time to get her to love me again, even if it is just a tiny bit-”

A paradox soon follows Minho’s lips. “Just so you let her fleet away like you did three and so years ago, the story is no different, you’re the same Taemin and she’s-”

“And she belongs with me.” Taemin adds as if he was a kid and the butler almost thought it was funny how he puffed out his cheeks. “I just…want a little bit more of time, that’s all.”

But time wasn’t something that he had left.

“I can’t believe it!”

Her hands were trapped against her body as Jongin’s long limbs wrapped around her shoulders and brought her closer to him. The scent of woodened cologne that represented her best friend reached her nostrils and from the corner of her eyes, she could see a shorter male with black hair that was looking at them with an awkward smile over his features. She had studied him, Do Kyungsoo and it surprised her that he was such a big person into business when he was simply…shy, cold hearted, hard to reach. It wasn’t necessarily bad, indeed, she thought it was something that she had learnt to be as well throughout time, but it surprised her that he had taken the time to listen to Jongin with the dreams that she wanted to reach –because she wasn’t a good talker at all-. Kyungsoo has his hands inside his pockets and she tries to return the hug to Jongin, but he had squished her too hard against his broad chest.

Absolutely, she loved that after only twelve days she had gotten a possible contract, but it still haunted her that they got that opportunity out of the blue. Used to working for everything, her mind was hazy and once Jongin pulled away, the son of a businessman seemed to be happy about the exchange and he pointed between the two with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you two…well…you know, a thing?” Kyungsoo asked and even though the low vibrato of his voice was uncertain, she knew that it was out of embarrassment because of the rosiness of his cheeks. Out of all the years she had been friends with Jongin, she had always been asked if the two were something and that something was never going to surface between the two. Even before his death, her father thought that the two were together and made sure to have the pair of best friends under his watch in case anything happened; the old memory brings back a bitter feeling to her tongue and she shakes her head at the same time that Jongin chuckles.

Jongin scoffs. “No, she has been stuck with the same man for almost four years.” That makes her back straighten and the hand that was behind her back suddenly went to Jongin’s ribs to pinch the skin there, which caused him to wince silently.

“So…are you in a relationship?” Fuck this, she thinks when the young man asks and she tilts her head to the side, giving a tight lipped smile that made Kyungsoo believe that she was probably embarrassed about it when it really hurt inside. At least, he was off to the capital of the land and won’t be back, hopefully he would have forgotten her once she was back to her home, but as of now…she knows that she won’t ever forget him.

“No.” The answer is short, the sound of her voice as sweet as the tea Kyungsoo had in his hands –served exclusively by her- and as sharp as the edge of the old couch Jongin slept on. “…Ah…no?” This time is more like a question and she looks over at Jongin for help but something seemed to click inside Kyungsoo’s head and she blames it on the fact that he’s so intelligent, clever even and those brown orbs of his could read her better than anyone else in the land. Both Jongin and she were surprised once he-

“I bet it is the guy you were riding a horse with the moment I met you.” Well, now she doesn’t know what to say and she moves her hands slightly, causing a bit of the hot tea to drop over her leg and making her wince, but she covers all her pain with a smile because she feared, not for her own reputation but for Taemin’s. No one could know she loved the golden king, no one should even be aware of what they had- “Ah, be careful!” Kyungsoo said and he immediately rushed towards her, picking up one of the napkins over the table before dabbing it against her clothed leg, his eyes completely focused on the spot that the tea had left. “I should not have asked, sorry-” Jongin looks over at her with pity in her eyes as the man kneeled in front of her and she placed her hand over Kyungsoo’s, making him stop completely as he looked up at her with big eyes and his plump lips tightened in a small line. “I-I-”

“Let’s just say…” She trails her voice as she stops holding Kyungsoo’s hand and the man stands up slowly as he crosses his arms over his chest, playing with the sleeves of his sweater lightly. “We love each other deeply but we can’t be together.” The way his head moved up and down slowly made her feel like she was listened to but she couldn’t say anymore, she didn’t want to speak about the subject anymore- “Don’t be…sorry for asking me anything,” She shrugs her shoulders as if it was nothing, but the weights over them were heavy mentally. “After all, we’re going to be business partners and we need to know each other.”

“As a resume,” Jongin says as he makes Kyungsoo turn towards him and the taller man smiles sweetly. “Yes, it’s the guy you saw her with…but he won’t be an issue.” The black haired male laughs and then he shakes his head, the breaths leaving his lips making her tilt her head to the side. “What is so funny?”

“You are talking as if he was a damned criminal.” Kyungsoo says and for a moment, she looks over at Jongin as a way of finding an answer, which makes the businessman’s smile falter a little bit. “Ah, uh, it is not a criminal…right, that could be an issue- Oh my god, is it a hitman?” Three seconds before asking- “What does he do?”

“Politician.” The two answered at the first time and then she cleared her throat, standing up from her place on the couch. “He…is…yeah, a politician…something like that.” She swats her hand playfully before biting her bottom lip. “Ah, Jongin, I’ll go change my pants because…yeah…that.” Words didn’t seem to come out of her mouth and as she walked towards the room that she had in said house, she rushed through the hall and leaned against the door once she was inside.

Hopefully, he believed what she had told him…but it wasn’t completely a lie. Politicians were people of power that worked alongside with the kingdom, but Taemin was much more than that and it gave her a headache whenever she thought of Kyungsoo ever noticing that she had dated the golden king, that king that was always on newspapers and the one that was there just a few weeks ago-

Thud, thud, thud. Her train of thought is interrupted when she hears the sound of a rock hitting her window a few times and she rushed towards it, opening the window to get ready to scream at the neighbors’ kids that were surely trying to play a prank on her until she saw those black hairs hidden by a cap and a smile that was uncovered, somehow. Taemin waved slightly, almost cutely and she felt her heart at her throat for two reasons, the fact that he was there once again and also the slight detail that Kyungsoo was in the living room with Jongin. A small whine leaves her lips, almost inaudible as Taemin spoke.

“Am I still in time?”

Perhaps, the timing wasn’t the most perfect one but when she put all the pieces together, noticing how he was there because he wanted to and not because he had to, her heart raced a million times faster and she only had one question inside her head…

How could she hide this from her business partner before she lost everything once again?

#taemin scenarios #taemin #shinee scenarios #shinee #kpop scenarios #writing #golden prince #prince!taemin #shinee fanfic #taemin fanfic #pictures aren't mine #tell me what you thought of this chapter

25 notes · View notes

teddy-feathers · 7 years

Text

My best friend says she likes to check my blog because I’m “enthusiastic”.

I don’t feel enthusiastic most of the time.

Hell I’m whiney and pessimistic and constantly worried or upset or… Having the energy for just everyday life sucked out of me by the vaccum of suck.

You know when youre a kid and you’re all asking eachother “is the glass half empty or half full?” like its some wonderful secret no one else knows? My answer was usually “its empty because i drank it.” and my friend slade called me an optimistic pessimist.

Optimistic Pessimist - Avoidant Dependent. Masochistic but hates pain. Symptoms of anxiety and depression.

And thats pretty common actually. These lovely, terrible counterbalance of extremes.

I don’t like being upset - so I over caffinate, try to keep a sugar high going… But I also enjoy wallowing and being allowed to feel like utter shit.

I cant talk to people.

Akward hesitant dont know what I’m talking about have to have scripts. Hate akward small talk prefer books to people you do your thing I’ll do my thing everyones happy dont touch me just leave me the fuck alone i dont just cant right now okay?

But I’m also constantly talking, about anything or nothing. I love your hair clothes shoes make up personaily god your just so fabulous and talentend and i love talking to you and hearing what you have to say please tell me all of your headcannoms and ideas and just lets stay up all night bsing over literally nothing until my throat is dry.

I was raised to think like a jaded sarcastic cynic. But I’m also idealistic as hell to the point my dad gets mad over how “naive” I am.

I’ll tell you and believe and understand how aweful people can be, figure out how theyll cheat you hurt you hate eachother - “how can a mother do that to their child” i know. I know and im afraid of what knowing and understanding will make of me because it comes so easy.

… But in the end I believe in people. I believe in you. Admire. Little shine to you. The whole nine yards.

I cant fix shit. But I can do what i can when i can. Regret when i cant or dont…

Overtipping for services not rendered means I cant afford shit… Ive got by with less and knowing I helped a little make someone a bit happier… A bit of relief from that tight worry in your chest….

I can be incredibly selfish but I’m trying.

Nothing I do really matters to anyone.

It wont make a lasting impact. It wont change the world. Hell might do more harm than good. Really wont make a difference to anyone.

But thats okay. Trying makes a difference to me.

Trying to smile like I mean it. Talking to people like I care about the weather despite having this same conversation ten times together. Bouncing. Being devoutly more excited about work I dont want to do or care about when Id rather be in bed fading into non exsistance…

I hate it. Its exhausting. Its who I am. Because everything sucks and Id rather be hyped about it then morose.

1 note · View note

obscuraxrp · 7 years

Photo

The smoke settles to reveal PARK JIMIN, a 22 year old werewolf of Sunseong. He is a part-time dance instuctor who appears to be adept with his enhanced strength – but like most things in Sunseong, there seems to be more to him than meets the eye.

FACECLAIM: Park Jimin, bts

APPEARANCE:

jimin’s were form is that of a giant, silver-furred wolf. as a result of his were nature, jimin has unusually sharp teeth, namely his canine teeth, and his eyes appear more golden than brown most of the time in his human form. jimin also frequently dyes his hair but currently it is a silvery-blond. he has two scars, from bullets; one through his shoulder and the other grazing his side.

BIOGRAPHY:

once, someone had asked jimin if he had the power to change anything in history, what would he change? the answer is simple. he’d go back to that day–the day he lost everything, the hunt that cost him so, so much–and rewrite it. erase the villains, the climax, the shakespearean tragedy; change the blood to spilled red wine; stop it from happening, stop–

he’d rewrite his story; change the past to change the present and future. the consequences of meddling with time don’t matter to someone who’s already lost it all.

( this time, it’s not the little boy who cries. it’s the wolf. )

i. the beginning.

it begins with the moon, high in the night’s sky and just a sliver from being full. it begins with a pup being born into a pack of wolves, smaller than anyone thought a pup could be. it begins with park jimin, the runt of the litter, welcoming the world with not a cry, but a smile full of already sharp teeth and the softest giggle ever heard from a baby.

it begins with jimin growing faster and stronger, but remaining tiny in stature. it begins with his carefree attitude, a naive little pup who cares only to help his elders and play with the other pups. it begins with a pack of wolves who, despite aggressive nature, were calm and gentle, their roots deeply tied with druidism. it begins with peace.

it does not end like this.

ii. the rise.

it comes as a surprise, one that the elders crack jokes about (“lil’ minnie’s finally big!”), when jimin’s first shift happens and his form is–well, it’s huge. larger than the average wolf and as large as or larger than a bear, jimin experiences his first shift (previously he had only been able to halfway shift–a pair of fuzzy ears and tail here, sometimes claws and larger than normal canine teeth) and he takes all the teasing in stride with a big wolfish grin and teeth almost too large for his own muzzle. he was a proud wolf of a proud pack and there was nothing that could ruin this for him.

afterall, what much is there that could threaten a were, much less a werewolf?

iii. the fall.

silver could. silver bullets, stained with red red red blood, could threaten a werewolf and they did more than threaten. they killed. they murdered. silver bullets in the chamber of a silver gun, clenched tightly in the hands of those who care not for his kind. jimin is barely an adult, just recently had he experienced his first shift and his first hunt, and this is the first time he runs for his life and it is not a game.

he does not fight. he only knows how to play. despite being a wolf, a feared predator, he feels much like the prey in this moment. his mother howls in the distance and he knows she is crying for him to be safe. he risks it and howls back, full of sorrow and grief. he hears no response–the forest has gone dead silent, in fact–but he still prays.

he prays to the forest, which has always kept him and his pack safe before, that it will do so once more. he prays that the other animals, the other were packs he knows his pack shares this territory with, will be safe and prepared for an attack, if they encounter one. he prays and he prays, stumbling and bleeding through the forest with easy tracks to follow. before he had escaped, before his mother had howled and his father flung himself in front of his only son to protect him from the spray of bullets, two bullets had got him. one in the shoulder and one just grazing his side.

he never knew silver hurt so much, never knew bullets could hurt so much. he never knew people could be so cruel and hateful either. nature is kind. humanity, jimin learns that night, not so much.

iv. the aftermath.

he survives. jimin had stumbled out of the forest, weakened to the point of returning to his human form, and, by the guidance of the moon and pure luck, found a were-friendly doctor who lived close by. lucky, the doctor calls him, as he disinfects his wounds and digs out the bullet in his shoulder, you are one lucky son of a bitch to have escaped and survived hunters.

lucky, jimin mumbles, echoes of his pack’s screams and howls of pain and anguish echoing in his head and deafening him for years to come, yeah–i guess you could say that.

v. the finale ( or a new beginning ).

the doctor was kind enough to allow the young were to sleep on his couch for a few days before jimin figured out his bearings. the doctor asks if he plans to return home and he says no. he has no home. whatever is left in the forest is not his anymore. not without his pack.

he heads to the eastern district, eager to escape the southern district and the memories that haunt him, and it is there he finds home in a small apartment in a decent enough apartment complex. he finds work at a nearby studio, snatching up a position as a part-time dance instructor eagerly. he teaches all ages, mainly children, and he enjoys it. it’s enough. for now, at least. he’s alive and still kicking but paranoia still haunts him. it takes him a few years to be able to look at the colors silver and red again, but it’s progress. jimin’s okay–he’s surviving, making a living and supporting himself and, for now, that is enough.

CHARACTERIZATION:

jimin has noticeably sharp canine teeth and, due to their slightly larger than normal size, he has a slight lisp.

he’s self-conscious about his teeth and his lisp– he usually speaks softer and slower when in the presence of unfamiliar people and, when he laughs, covers his mouth to hide his teeth ( occasionally, one tooth will be visible when he closes his mouth and it does look rather cute but he tries his best to prevent them from showing at all ).

he’s very, very energetic and playful–despite being a wolf, he most resembles a puppy in personality.

like a puppy, jimin is very, very affectionate. once he’s comfortable with someone and sees them as ‘safe’, he suddenly doesn’t understand the meaning of ‘personal space’ anymore; he’s always hugging and touching them in some way. he’s just a very friendly were who loves hugs.

he has a love for dance, specifically hip-hop and ballet.

despite his shy nature, jimin is loud and has a tendency to ramble on and on around people he’s familiar with and trusts. he also seems to have some sort of natural charisma that makes people like him (with that puppy face, how could one not though?)

when he’s not busy teaching a dance class, jimin can most likely be found either reading at the library or working out at the gym. or, y’know, sleeping.

jimin is a very open and trusting person–almost to a fault. while he tries to see the good in everyone, he trusts his instinct more than anything else and will act accordingly when he feels warily about someone. nothing is ever as it seems, especially in this city. he’s learned what kinds of people to trust and he knows what the scent of bad and evil smell like.

he has frequent nightmares about his pack.

he enjoys sweets of all kind.

jimin isn’t a very aggressive person–as previously stated, he’s moreso like a puppy in terms of personality–but when threatened, he will stand his ground and defend himself by any means necessary. if someone he loves/cares about is threatened–well. you’d best start praying now.

in his most natural form–that being his wolf form–jimin is aware that his size is larger than the average wolf (ironic, honestly, considering his small human form) but he often forgets this fact and thinks he’s about the size of a normal lapdog. it’s rather comedic, really, but how hard will you be laughing when there’s a gigantic wolf jumping onto your lap, thinking he’s the size of, say, a yorkie? well–you might be laughing but it’ll be hard to tell around all the wheezing.

SPECIALTIES:

as a were, jimin has enhanced senses (taste, smell, sight, hearing) but none to the point where they could be called ‘specialties’. also due to his pack’s history of druidism, he is more intune with nature and animals, though he can only communicate with wolves and other canines. this skill is not refined enough to be considered a speciality, as he never received any training and cannot do much below a basic beginner’s level.

Enhanced Strength (Rank III): in jimin’s pack he was, despite being the smallest, one of the strongest if not the strongest among them. even at a young age, he was capable of lifting things far beyond what he should have been able to lift (though, he quickly exhausted himself from overexerting his strength and still, to this day, he has a bad habit of ‘overdoing’ it). while jimin is capable of lifting heavy things (ex: cars, trucks, etc) with relative ease, his true strength lies with his durability. over the years, jimin has trained his body to take a lot of damage and still be able to carry on. obviously this has it limits–factoring in things such as exhaustion, fatigue, blood loss, limb loss, and other significant factors that would hinder his ability–but jimin considers himself smart enough to know his limitations and how to best work around them or to avoid them.

#obs: follow #*park jimin #*bts #violence tw #death tw

3 notes · View notes

jumunkrp-blog · 7 years

Photo

RESIDENCY DIRECTORY UPDATING...

LOADING RESIDENT INFORMATION: ❝ — [ JOO SEUNGHOON ] is currently 26 YEARS OLD, a PUREBLOOD (SQUIB), and currently is a FREELANCE ARTIST. Please click here for more information on this resident.

ACCESSING DATA...

— LOADED PERSONALITY:

he could not make fantasy into reality, make it possible and non-fiction—but he could create a fantasy and show it off to people that belonged in reality. he liked to imagine a world where all was well and better—it was his escape. the sceneries he built in his mind became a safe haven for him to go to at times when he needed to think. his creativity became his relief and his life saver, one which he cherished dearly.

towards people and everyone else, he may seem like an amiable, thoughtful and polite man. he smiles and talks and sets lines to maintain a comfortable atmosphere—at least, that was how most would think. the lines he drew, which were thick and high and by then was even more impressive than the great wall of china, was meant for his own defense. and his nature was to make sure that you would know not to be too nosy—an equivalent exchange. yes, he may be friendly in manners but that was because he was being like others and avoiding to be troublesome. you may have him in your contacts and may have talked to each other but you and him will most likely never break down those walls.

the truth is, he’s much more negative than the surface of his personality would show. he is extremely repressive and would force down his feelings of inferiority towards his siblings and more, the negativity that build up towards his family, and anything that would show something bad. he holds back and unleashes all the stress from these emotions in the form of artworks which would never get to be shown in public and boxing practice where he could pummel training equipments to satisfy it.

he forced himself to be ignorant, to be optimistic and naive in order to ignore the vileness of the situation. keep a positive thinking and don’t think otherwise—all because he just did not want to face with how bad his family had been or how alone he was. he truly wanted to feel good for once in any way or form but recalling everything made him feel as if he could never be such. that’s why he forced himself and believed a false light to feel as if all was alright. it’s not a healthy way of thinking but he was stubborn to hold onto it as he did not wish to face the truth.

to sum it up—he was a boy who wanted to stay in a world of fiction to avoid the painful, painful truth.

— LOADED BACKGROUND:

i. he is born with magic in his blood and wizards and witches for parents. majority will say that he would be like them—someone that made fiction a non-fiction—but majority didn’t always result in them being right.

he could not bring fantasy into reality and do what was impossible—for he was a squib and a disgrace to the family’s bloodline.

ii. he is the eldest of the children but the worst of the lot. mother would look at him with disappointment and father would sneer once sighting him. his younger brother and sister followed his parents and they all made him the dark void of the family.

when the younger two did a misdeed, they will point at him as the culprit. then he would find himself locked outside in the cold winter clad in nothing but underwear. they would lock him in closets and always say that it was his fault. they only ever gave him a decent treatment when he proved to be useful—become their servant of sorts and never miss a chore.

they treat him decently despite all the horrid things they’ve done in order to maintain an image. they still tried to find a way to ‘cure’ him of this unfortunate happening. and in the end—instead of hating them and running away or plotting vengeance—he grew to ignore all the horrid events. to pretend that every time he has been punished was merely a nightmare and never happened. his family were great, they were nice and had done good things. they weren’t abusive in any way.

he had forcefully became ignorant, naive and optimistic.

iii. he went to a muggle school, become one with the people who were like him yet not. they told him he could at least be useful by becoming successful, at least be good for something. and so he tried. he tried to get good grades or be amazing in any way or form.

he forces himself to study math and sciences to the best of his ability. tried making himself excel in anything. but he was never first and just above average—not good enough.

he had no talent what-so-ever is the thought that whispered in his mind ever so often, one which he had tried to lock away into a place where he could no longer hear it. yet, every time he failed to exceed or even reach expectations, it comes stronger than before.

until he found out about arts.

he had been given a chance to hold the pencil in his hand and was told to draw his family. and he did—made a rough circle in one stroke, added lines to form the body, the face, the background and…the smiles.

that day he had been punished and locked inside the closet—framed by his brother yet again—and he sobbed as he held the drawing he had done earlier that day, as if it was the only lifesaver he had.

only in these drawing will he ever be close to bringing fantasy into reality.

iv. now he had a notebook for drawing and the grades which he tried so hard to achieve became a tad bit lower than before. lunch became a time to eat as quickly as possible before he started to draw. classmates that were ‘friends’ who knew him enough to be considered as one in their terms had inched closer to inspect his work. the children would be in awe and compliment him—which had shocked him to the core the first time it happened.

art became one of the things which gave him life. it became something that he was talented in and could be proud of.

but it wasn’t something his family approved of.

he had showed it to them, the notebook filled with drawings to showcase that he was good at something—that he could do something at least—instead they scoffed and with a flick of the wand the book was shredded and burned into ashes. just like his soul and heart as he saw it happen.

he was punished again, locked in a room without anything and starved for two days before he was nurtured again to look normal enough so he could return to school without raising suspicions.

it was a blessing that a classmate of his had gifted him with a sketchbook, one which he hid with all his might from everyone. this time he won’t let the only thing which he could pretend to be his only magic disappear.

v. he found out that he didn’t only have a single talent soon enough. as he visited his classmate’s father due to their group project, he ended up growing interested in a sport called boxing.

the man had been a boxer before, retiring since he decided to focus on family more. that day he and a few others had been thought a bit about boxer since they still had a lot of time to spare after their project finished.

the man praised him for his jabs and stance. it was proper and right and for a very brief moment he had wished that the man was his father instead. he would never be praised by his own parents is a fact he knew but tried to ignore vehemently.

he found himself visiting the man more often to learn how to box. he kept a guise of groups studies in front of his parents and made sure to hide anything that may reveal his lies.

he didn’t want this love for an activity to be spat upon again.

vi. it became obvious that the man he grew to call his boxing instructor was more of a family than his actual family.

even after the son of the man who was a classmate of his had died—he still came to learn. but spending more time together had led to the eventual bond that he had never expected to have with how his life had been for all these years. it was refreshing and different—it was the light of his day and he could find himself smiling more and more often.

the man would be the only one able to to get the true him to spill all that he pent up for a very long time. and he would also be the only one he could call a true friend and family.

vii. his siblings were the light of the family and were always gifted with many that he would never be able to gain. they were younger but treated him with no respect. they were taught to see him as a lower being—a different species that was inferior to them.

he stayed home alone every time the rest of his family had to meet others. he stayed in his room as others came to visit them. at times he had followed and he was met with scrutinizing looks. sometimes others pitied him for his lack of magic, or they openly despised him for it, or they may have just been indifferent or decided to not even notice his existence.

he kept his distance at all times and the feelings had been mutual—except his seemed almost non-existent with how thoroughly he hid such thoughts.

viii. when he was old enough—they gave him a place to stay alone. he saw it as them wanting him to be independent but knew what it truly meant. of course, he ignored the harsh truth for the sake of a better fantasy.

when pangs of joy came from the decision his family had made for this separation were to show itself, he would push them all away. it was bad to think such thoughts at such a situation is what he forced himself to realize. but it was because of this that he find himself spending a lot more time with the boxing instructor and find himself not able to care about repressing those emotions.

they pay for his living expenses and gave him a yearly allowance to survive a year with cheap meals. every time he got lower than expected grades they will cut his allowance money bit by bit. during such times, the boxing instructor would help him out and he would thank the man profusely.

and then more years passed by and his life shifted for the worst again.

ix. he had still been in college when the man he greatly attached himself too was diagnosed with dementia. he had been in university when the illness reached it’s middle stage. he had graduated from university when he was asked about his identity.

these moments that were spent with the man had turned from one of his most greatest time to a pain which could not be described. he couldn’t do anything lo stop it no matter what he tried. he tried to cope—but his only coping method was a despicable act for such a scenario.

so he lived in pain and no one knew. because he only showed himself to the man that was the reason behind this agony. he regretted that he could not be able to do any more than what he had done. especially when he saw the tombstone with the name of the man engraved on it—no longer able to hear his problems and give him a comforting hand.

for a long time, he had only been able to paint his feelings and destroy it as soon as he finished it.

x. he is now a freelance artist. after finally being able to return to a somewhat normal state, he had started to try and live. he was jobless no longer and even though he was still financially supported by his family he was scared of them stopping such acts. no matter how much he tried to avoid negative thoughts—he knew this would have to be an exception. plus, he really did not want to eat gimbap and ramyeon for the rest of his life.

the fortress between him and his family had grown to such imposing levels that it would put the great wall of china by then. of course, he ignored it and let his family do what they wanted. his family still wanted to have an image of being nice and he was their tool for it—of course, such way of thinking would only be ignored by him but deep down he knew that was the case.

life had returned to a much more steady pace and that was what he wanted. this time, he hoped it stayed that way.

#jm: acceptances #kang haneul #jm: squib #krp #krp ad #kpop roleplay #kpop roleplay ad #kpop rp #kpop rp ad

1 note · View note

idolizerp · 5 years

Photo

LOADING INFORMATION ON IMPERIAL’S MAIN VOCAL KWON JAEYOON...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 26 DEBUT AGE: 22 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 16 COMPANY: 99 Ent. ETC: this member is known for their work with lyrics and production

IDOL IMAGE

DAY.

he’s perfect boyfriend material—he’s got the pretty boy looks, the soft flirty smile, a mouth full of sweet promises and romantic lines aimed to woo girls and capture hearts, and a voice crooning love for all eternity.

he’s got it all and 99 ent. thinks they’ve got themselves a bonafide diamond in the rough—what with his family background and status, the innate talent they’ve honed, the rough edges of his youth sanded down and shaved to the wick until all that’s left is something they can mold, command, and make entirely theirs.

it’s almost too easy—to market him as the charismatic hyung responsible for keeping the rest of imperial in line. easy to turn him into a mouthpiece, give him scripted lines to say during variety shows, interviews, promotions, what have you. he’s an almost leader. just without the official title. they tell him to be the responsible one, to lead by example. he’s to keep his members on a leash and ensure they don’t take a step out of line. he plays the part well enough. he doesn’t so much as yank them by the back of their shirts as he does lean over to whisper in his members’ ears when the cameras flash and the fans are watching.

sometimes, he almost fades into the backdrop amidst his more outspoken members—until he steps foot on stage, the spotlight shines, and the music turns on. with a mic in his hand, a slow acting flame ignites and he lights up in front of the eyes of his fans. he’s magnetic, voice electric. 99 calls it quiet charisma—the way he ignites on camera, on stage, but flickers out as soon as the cameras pan away, turn off. he’s got eyes that burn bright and a grin so small, so dangerous, it’s there one second and gone the next.

it makes him a little more sensual, a little more edgy. from boy to man. like some kind of switch inside of him flicks on and off at will. and when the songs end, he’s back to the humble boy bowing and smiling. boyish, charming, and sweet all at once.

it drives his fans wild. the fans love it—the dichotomy. love him.

to the fans, jaeyoon is the member who holds their hand and remembers them by name at fan signs, who smiles and looks them straight in the eyes, giving them his full attention for as long as he can. he’s everything they want him to be—fantasy boyfriend, the almost best friend, the nice boy with no ulterior motives but a whole lot of love to give them, wherever and whenever.

behind closed doors, everyone (past and present trainees who have left 99 ent. and who still remain in the dungeons, waiting for their chance to shine) calls jaeyoon 99’s lapdog. the golden boy. squeaky clean and with the weight of that crown pressed atop his head, you’d think his shoulders would sag under the burden of such a heavy responsibility.

it should. it does.

just not in the way that the public sees. jaeyoon’s much too professional—too careful—for that.

it’s just a job, after all. a mask. a lie.

NIGHT.

all that danger lingering beneath the humble skin he wears simmers in the day and boils over at night.

on camera, he’ll love you a thousand times over in the way he sings about holding your hand and kissing you sweet, loving you broken and being the boy who will put your heart back together. put your heart in my hands, love, he croons, i’ll treat you right.

but once the cameras are nowhere in sight, watch the smile leave his eyes. watch the corners of his lip slip smoothly into something reminiscent of a smirk. wicked and all kinds of dangerous. when the city is poised at half-sleep, jaeyoon comes to life. the chains fall off, the mask slips away.

and all that’s left in his place is a boy who’s restless, reckless. a man who’s bored and has a penchant for adrenaline rushes, booze, and sex. it’s a far cry from the boyish prince who can do no wrong. the jaeyoon after dark is a predator all wrapped up in head-to-toe designer black with a rebellious curl to his lips.

don’t be fooled by his smile (no matter how pretty he looks). don’t be fooled by his lies.

he’ll love you any way you want him to—be whoever you need him to be. you can kiss him sweet, fuck him dirty, love him raw, broken, and hold him close.

but don’t trust him. don’t fall in love with him either.

because a boy like him doesn’t know how to love.

not anyone. not himself. not anything.

IDOL HISTORY

his parents are diehard workaholics, married to their jobs more than they’re married to each other. right around their prime, he comes along—an actual surprise baby. finally, an heir to their legacies. it’s no wonder his parents—his mother, in particular—look at him with practiced smiles and sky high expectations.

sometimes. all the time. when he fails to be perfect:

(a 99 is unacceptable, jaeyoon-ah. your father and i did not raise you to be a disappointment.)

when he gets disciplined for cheating on a test:

(he didn’t. he was framed. but he’s seven and not a genius. not smart enough to be manipulative. not smart enough to know the tricks of the trade. can’t kiss ass worth a shit. so the class president gets everyone’s sympathy—including that of his parents.)

when he runs away for the first time, his nanny panics.

his parents don’t. they don’t even know he was missing for a whole six hours. they weren’t even in the country. unreachable. unavailable. frantic phone calls going straight to voicemail.

typical.

he’s used to it.

the pushed-upon expectation to be independent. to follow the letter of the law (household rules and all that jazz) to the T. they know better than he does that he can’t survive outside the gilded cage his birthright puts him in.

he’s a silver-spooned child, through and through—whether he liked it or not.

ii.

if success is equated to money, his parents could probably roll in it. he could, too. if he actually gave a shit about reputation, legacy, and rubbing elbows with the top 1%.

(he doesn’t.)

success only robs him of normalcy, of a childhood that doesn’t involve an empty villa (the one his parents call a home. the one he calls a cage—a prison). obligations and responsibilities mean he practically eats alone seven days a week and having a blur of faces who go from wiping his ass as a baby to picking his clothes to driving him to and from school and hagwon to making him breakfast, lunch, and dinner to being dismissed permanently at the tender age of ten.

because he’s old enough now—responsible enough—to take care of himself.

(he doesn’t tell his parents he’s been doing it since he was as young as six years old. it’s not like they care, anyway.)

iii.

if childhood is lonely, his prepubescent years are even worse. in the span of ten years, he can count the number of times he sees his parents for longer than 24 hours on both hands—give or take a finger or two—and the number of times the three of them are actually even in the same room (and eating dinner together!) on one hand.

there’s no hope in ever being enough to hold his parents’ attention for longer than five minutes—ten minutes, tops.

getting into a prestigious prep school is a piece of cake. he’s been busting his ass for years, going to hagwon after hagwon after hagwon, and he finally gets in. (maybe he got in through his parents. who knows what kinds of connections they have. because, lord knows he probably didn’t make a good impression at the interview.)

but bringing home straight A's—whether forged or acquired through his blood, sweat, and tears means nothing to them. because on a scale of one to ten on how important he is compared to their career, he will always rank somewhere in the negatives.

it shouldn’t hurt to know this, though. he’s used to it.

it still hurts. it always does.

iv.

at thirteen, puberty hits him—and it hits him hard. the growth spurt is a blessing in disguise. so is the adam’s apple and the voice change (thank god, no more voice cracks). he’s got his parents’ good looks and he finally grows into them.

it turns heads, helps him make friends, brings him attention.

just not the kind he really wants.

his mother is abroad nowadays. paris, hong kong, new york. he’s only resentful that she’s never loved him enough to take him with her. his father, though still in seoul, rarely comes home—he practically lives in his office. he’s not naive enough to think his father would (or is) betraying his mother. infidelity isn’t something he’s even remotely worried about.

neither of his parents hate each other enough to seek pleasure and comfort in someone else. he wondered, once upon a time, why his parents didn’t just file for divorce. until he learns theirs is an arranged marriage and in holy matrimony (for fear of gossip and backlash) only in death will they part.

he doesn’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.

(it’s neither. but at this point, he doesn’t give a fuck anymore.)

somewhere in between thirteen and sixteen, he discovers a knack for music. rhythm. and the way his body’s able to move—fluid and clean. he finds a niche in bass drops and hard hitting lyrics. more often than not, he finds a pen in his hand in the dead of the night, turning his loneliness (his resentment, his insecurities, his obligations) into metaphors about locks and chains, cages and barbed wire.

he finds it easier to drown himself in music. beyond closed doors, he creates himself a sanctuary—an escape—where it’s just him, the beat of the music, and his body popping and locking. free and unrestrained.

he falls in love. hard and fast and dirty.

and he never stops.

vi.

he’s sixteen when he auditions for 99 entertainment. it’s on a whim and comes on the heels of an epiphany he has in the midst of university applications and talks of getting into either of his parents’ alma mater.

for the first time in sixteen years, he wants something for himself. decides to pick the road of fame as his target. his next conquest.

when he makes it in, he smiles for the first time in a long time.

in response, his parents disown him. not publicly. they’d never do that. but they don’t speak to him again. (when have they ever?) the only reason he knows they know he still exists is the numbers in his bank account increasing at the same monthly rate.

he tells himself he’s fine with that. it’s nothing different, after all. some things will never change, no matter how much he wants them to.

vii.

he takes to trainee life like fish to water. drowns himself in it: dance practice, vocal lessons, body and weight training, academics and a social life. it’s hard and something’s gotta give.

he sacrifices university without a second thought.

his parents retaliate by changing the passcode to the villa and sends him the keys and the deeds to a new accommodation. a place all of his own, far far away from them.

(you are an abomination—a disgrace—kwon jaeyoon.)

(tell me something new.)

at eighteen, he could’ve had the world in the palm of his hands, but he gave it up for a lucrative dream he didn’t even know would actually come true.

viii.

trainee life isn’t as easy as he imagined. victory doesn’t come without some kind of sacrifice.

one year in and he’s pushed into more intensive training and thrust into vocal classes. from dancer to vocalist, it’s no wonder his peers look at him like he’s filth, wondering how a pretty boy who was rumored to have gotten in for his looks (and his money, his family connections, so the rumor grapevines say) could possibly be on the same level as them.

the resentment is palpable; he feels it every time he turns his back on them. feels it in their stares every time he makes some kind of progress, makes ripples big enough to earn praises from his trainers.

the competition only thickens, grows cloying and suffocating when POIZN’s tentative lineup is announced and he finds his name on the bottom of the list. the anger ripples. as does the hatred. the jealousy.

jaeyoon says nothing.

ix.

two years in and he ignites under all the negativity, his temper constantly held at bay. (all those reprimands when he was a child certainly comes in handy. control, his mother hisses in his ears at every single wretched parading of children like some kind of auction show disguised as the latest social gathering amongst the rich.)

he’s no longer a child seeking validation, needing acceptance. he cares for nothing but success. wants to win. wants to debut to prove them all wrong. wants something to call his own.

two years in and jaeyoon’s still there. practically living in the practice rooms, the booming speakers blasting the latest hit POWer song for the nth time, training his body to ride the beat and flow of lyrics and hard hitting beats.

when POIZN debuts without him, he almost quits. he should’ve known. should’ve known he’s not quite there yet—not good enough, not rough, not tough enough. always second best. second choice. backup.

he should’ve been angry. resentful.

(he was. is. hides it under a clenched jaw. hides it under sweat-soaked shirts and worn-ragged sneakers.)

the anger fuels him. makes him train harder.

he dances until the soles of his brand new shoes wear out. (he has ten pairs. it’s fine. he’s fine.)

he sings until his voice goes hoarse. cracks. until he loses it. (he tells himself not to panic. tells himself he sounds good. not pitch perfect, but getting there. tells himself to take it easy. he’s doing fine. just fine.)

six years fly by and finally, he comes out a winner.

(congratulations, kwon jaeyoon. welcome to imperial.)

interludes—some more significant than others, but interludes all the same.

a) life’s a competition. he knows this as soon as his agency pits him against other trainees (brothers, he’s come to call them. friends.) in a reality show about survival. they’re all hopeful talents. none of you are expendable. at least, that’s what he says on camera. in private, all he can think about is darwin’s theory on evolution. survival of the fittest. the last one standing—he wants it to be him.

b) he meets her for the first time in the last practice room down the hall. (this is the one he’s claimed as his own. the only place that’s seen his sweat, his tears, his self-criticism.) beautiful, he thinks when he watches her dance like no one’s watching, her voice stable despite the way her hips sway and her body rolls. beautiful, he thinks even when he sees her stumble; her body seizing momentarily, her legs giving out on her. beautiful, even when he thinks she’s going to break down and call it quits. (she doesn’t.)

beautiful, he smiles as she gets back up. over and over again. until she hits every beat with grace and a smile.

he meets her weeks later at evaluation and learns her name. he calls her yellow, instead. like gold. like sunshine. beautiful. still beautiful.

c) 2014 and imperial’s debut is a whirlwind. success doesn’t come easy—it’s a hard lesson learned. their music isn’t for everyone—they don’t have the bad boy hype or the boy-next-door vibe. they’re a delicate, oddball in-between, riding a peculiar mix of r&b, hip-hop and alternative pop. but their fans—loyal to the core and dedicated—keep them afloat. keep them riding a shallow current upstream towards success.

he doesn’t give up. he doesn’t know how. (imperial is all he has.)

d) 2016 and success comes in the form of an upgraded sound. sentimental breaks the mold. gives them their very first win, their first taste of fame. and jaeyoon, greedy for attention and the sound of the audience raving, gets a little more addicted. a little more corrupt.

e) three years post-debut and they’re on an slow, but steady upward climb to the top of the world. (he’s almost there. almost.) they’re fine. he’s fine. (is he, really?)

f) four years and he hates it.

hates the delusional fans. the sasaengs. hates POIZN and their constant scandals. hates 99 ent. and their shitty clean up methods. hates knowing imperial exists as some fucked up version of a janitor, created to clean shit up and sweep things under the rug. being underestimated and overshadowed by POIZN’s infamy grate on his nerves, ignites that flame always festering beneath his skin.

he hates everything: how he has to watch his mouth, his temper, his goddamn image. the pretty boy with the mouth full of sweet promises and a cheeky grin. he seethes because that’s not him. he’s not nice. far from it. rugged, reckless, and ruined, he’s a bad boy fronting a nice guy image for the sake of popularity and fleeting fame.

this is what he sacrificed his youth for—the flashing cameras, the ninety-degree bows, the plastic smiles, the made up stories designed to capture noona hearts, the soft romantic looks meant to awe, to tame, to capture.

it’s not him at all.

a mask. a lie. a job.

and he hates it all.

g) five years almost and his mask is starting to chip piece by brittle piece.

the nice guy image is getting old and jaeyoon’s getting more and more restless. he’s grown tired of the perceived notion that fame can keep them afloat. grown tired of the routines, the fake smiles. he's bored. and boredom makes a restless man dangerous.

he aches for the want of something more. wants to ruin the illusion of perfection just a little bit. wants to test boundaries, test patience, wants to push buttons. and little by little, jaeyoon starts growing fangs.

and so, his greed and ambition starts making appearances here and there in small snippets of magazine interviews or on the occasional variety show appearances he’s required to make to keep imperial on the radar. drops soundbites on instagram about his desire to keep producing and writing lyrics for bigger names, to sing on a brighter stage and a bigger audience.

like this, the muzzle slowly comes undone.

like this, he creates himself a storm. turns himself into the eye. a hurricane in human skin.

he counts the days when 99 ent. would regret loosening the reins, trusting him to keep himself at bay.

because once a predator, always a predator.

and reality is, jaeyoon has always been dangerous. a wolf in sheepskin.

#id.bio #id.99 #id.poizn #id.nam joohyuk

0 notes

20smthngrp-blog · 6 years

Photo

( MAE SUNGNAM, 25 )

Name: Mae Sungnam Date of Birth: 1992/02/02 Occupation: Choreographer/Dance instructor

SPARKNOTES:

i. sungnam was born in toronto, canada as the youngest of six siblings. his parents having immigrated there before the birth of their first child. their home was loving and supportive on the good days - but strict on the bad.

ii. before his fifth birthday he announced that he decided he liked boys. he didn’t understand what that meant then but seeing as his oldest sister was out as a lesbian the family didn’t even blink at it.

iii. in school he earned the nickname ‘mason’ after he tried to introduce himself by his full name. it stuck, following him into his adult years.

iv. do to his pleading, his parents put him into both ballet lessons and taekwondo. he found that he had a natural talent for both - while time consuming he dedicated himself too it. eventually also branching out into other types of dance.

v. his childhood and school live was mostly uneventful. despite being one of the only openly gay kids he knew he didn’t face too much discrimination thanks to living in a good welcoming area.

vi. he had both his first love and first heart break at age seventeen. it was the first time in his life he felt wrong for his sexuality. that he wished he was some other way.

vii. when he was twenty he decided to move to korea. he knew the entertainment industry there was thriving and while he didn’t want to be a celebrity he decided that was the best place for him to make it.

viii. he struggled at first, moving in with his grandparents he never met. it took a while for him to get his name out there, eventually joining a dance studio where he felt himself thrive.

ix. when he started getting closer to his colleagues he found himself hiding information about himself. he was proud of who he was but he was also afraid. sungnam wanted to be seen as ‘normal’.

x. at age twenty five he felt he was where he wanted to be in the world. he had his dream job, he lived in a great apartment but then again. he felt too alone.

FREEFORM:

the abcs of sungnam.

anxiety. (noun) a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.

this was something sungnam was ashamed to talk about. he hated admitting it was something he struggled with. he hated showing weakness and to him this was one of his weakest traits. there were days when he didn’t want to show his face to the world because of the unexplainable fear he felt.

busy. (adjective) having a great deal to do.

this was something sungnam wanted to always be. he rarely gave himself free time to relax but in his mind that was the best way to be. if he wasn’t constantly occupied he was lazy or thats at least what his mind told him.

cynical. (adjective) believing that people are motivated by self-interest; distrustful of human sincerity or integrity.

this was something sungnam feared to become but the more time he spent on his own the more began to lose his optimistic belief in people.

dance. (verb) to move rhythmically to music, typically following a set sequence of steps.

this is what became sungnam’s entire life. his dream. his career. how he expressed himself. what he knew he could become the best at.

escapist. (noun) a person who seeks distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially in the form of entertainment or fantasy.

this was something sungnam found himself guilty of being. there were times when his stress was too much and he didn’t want to deal with it. he’d rather pretend to have no issues than to face him directly. he’d lose himself in his dance.

family. (noun) a person or people related to one and so to be treated with a special loyalty or intimacy.

this is sungnam’s support system. the people who kept him going. his parents, his siblings (then later his grandparents) were the people who made him feel loved. being away from his immediate family was so hard for sungnam, but he grew to live with it. cherishing visits, phone calls and even texts whenever he could.

guilt. (noun) a feeling of having done wrong or failed in an obligation.

this was something sungnam felt too often. he was well aware. it was far too easy to trigger the guilt response in the man no matter the situation. he’d joke that it was due to being raised catholic but then again he knew that it wasn’t a joking matter when the dark feelings curled too deep within him.

home. (noun) the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.

this is something ever changing for sungnam. growing up it was canada, he thought it always would. but when he moved to korea that also became his home. both places had a special place in his heart. it made him feel torn and divided.

impulsive. (adjective) acting or done without forethought.

this, sungnam knew he displayed too often. while he didn’t want to make decisions he’d regret he found that he put himself into that position simply due to his lack of thinking things through.

jovial. (adjective) cheerful and friendly.

this was something sungnam always tried to be. he didn’t see the point in treating others with anything but kindness.

korean. (noun) a native or inhabitant of north or south korea, or a person of korean descent.

this has always been a huge part of sungnam’s identity. despite being nationally canadian he greatly identified with being korean.

love. (noun) an intense feeling of deep affection.

this is something sungnam always felt deeply. when he loved he loved with his entire heart, his entire being. he loved forever.

man (noun) an adult human male.

this sungnam both identified as and had a love of.

naive. (adjective) natural and unaffected; innocent.

this was a trait sungnam didn’t realize he held for the longest time. his worldview, his experiences, they were all so sheltered that when it hit him he felt cheated.

optimism. (noun) hopefulness and confidence about the future or the successful outcome of something.

this was something sungnam grew up displaying. he could make light of even the darkest situations even when he was extremely fearful of the outcome. this was something he felt himself loosing the older he got.

perfection. (noun) the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects.

this is what sungnam strove for. both on and off the stage. he wanted to be seen as flawless in every way. he didn’t want people to think he was anything but good, happy, worth their time. it was hard to keep up, tiring from the start.

queer. (adjective) denoting or relating to a sexual or gender identity that does not correspond to established ideas of sexuality and gender, especially heterosexual norms.

this was something sungnam had always been okay with calling himself. though at times it could be used as an insult he didn’t see it as one. he was gay and that was something he was proud of. even though after he moved to korea he was quiet about this pride.

romance. (noun) a feeling of excitement and mystery associated with love.

this is sungnam’s deepest desire. he wanted a love story. he wanted something fairy tale like. a prince in shining armour to come woo him off his feet. he wanted to get married and grow old with someone special. this desire was what made the voice in his head tell him you shouldn’t have moved to korea.

sex. (verb) sexual activity between lovers, especially sexual intercourse.

this was something thoroughly enjoyed though it was on the condition he was romantically attached to his partner. having sex without love was something sungnam found himself not capable of.

tolerant. (adjective) showing willingness to allow the existence of opinions or behavior that one does not necessarily agree with.

this is something sungnam praised himself for. in his life time he’d come into contact with a lot of people he didn’t like but he still was able to treat them kindly. maybe it was just from his desire of being well liked and well received or maybe it was from his desire to be accepted.

unlovable. (adjective) not lovable.

this was something sungnam felt too often, even if it was just the voices in his head telling him so.

vulnerable. (adjective) susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm.

this sungnma tried to avoid being at all times. he wanted to be unbreakable. he wanted no one to know what made him tick.

waiting. (verb) to stay where one is or delay action until a particular time or until something else happens.

this sungnam hated more than anything. he needed to constantly on the move. constantly making progress.

e(xtraordinary). (adjective). unusually great.

this was what sungnam wanted to be recognized as.

youth. (noun) the state or quality of being young, especially as associated with vigor, freshness, or immaturity.

this sungnam didn’t want to lose. he was scared of growing old before he was done living his life.

zest. (noun) great enthusiasm and energy.

this was what sungnam tried to approach everything in life with.

#20s: accepted

0 notes

puresponk-blog · 7 years

Text

From Start To Beginning. How And When. What & Why... My Story So Far.

I’ve always thought from when I was young I wasn’t the same as anyone else, I’ve shown people who I am even if sometimes I haven’t the clue who that is, but after everything, I think I’m starting to realise you only know how to live life the day you go six feet under.

From The Start To Beginning

I remember an ungodly amount from being as young as 5/6 and onwards, Im born and raised in England in a small town called Barnstaple, nothing major, I remember our first house, living with my mum and dad, in a very tiny two bedroom semi-detached house. After so long being there I remember Sam being born, from literally two days after he popped out he’s been there ever since. I was to understand why I think why I do, how I am and why? Just a little more so, finding yourself is the worst thing you can do. We are working class and very had much... iv never been on holiday, and I guess it's okay, can't be sad about something you never had I guess.

I remember things, days, moments from living there even if I don’t think of it, I remember walking to school, living next to a girls house who’d walk with me, one of my friends would live two minutes up the drive, another who I only saw at school but have known since we were babies, not so much know just our mums were friends, still are but never meet.

I like remembering how I used to think Father Christmas was real, the little things like the tooth fairy, even the odd few pounds would give me the power to feel what it’s like to decide what I want, even if it’s a sweet, toy car, it’s special.

We lived there for a good few years before moving about 20 minutes more so next to town, I kinda figure this’s when I remember a lot about life thinking about it now.

Everything seemed to get a little more and more unfair as I started to realise that some of these kids would have these new toys, but it didn't matter to the sense that it would bother be that much... young and naive as they say. Mom XY Dad So you kinda got a feel for what it was like living in the old house because it doesn’t matter as much when you’re young and don't remember. My mum is sweet and in some sense innocent, but she absorbs life instead of steals it, take things how it is just she hasn’t had a holiday, never been out of the country, hasn’t had many boyfriends at all, very content in how you just live and take things how they come. She’s into some mellow stuff and loves music, a huge music fan and was influenced loads from her mother as I in a way.

My dad is a little different, he’s into his old time rock a’ billy sound, more vintage metal if anything, his dad wasn’t the greatest influence though… he left him with his mother and didn’t do the most knowledgeable things, I remember him telling me a story of how his dad used to take him when he was a baby and go to hospital car parks and try of kinda not lure but use him as a little introduction to the lady business… and then left around the same year as when it kinda got a bit much I imagine, but is 100% take things when you do and don’t really help yourself if you can’t be fucked… very down to earth and will take anything if he thinks he can handle it, not a serious man at all, also an alcoholic and has a problem.

How & When

When we moved into the new house I still went to the same school, as my brother started at this point, kinda when you’re growing up and hit that age when you don’t wanna be treated like a kid anymore, music wise I wasn’t very varied, but wasn’t into that side as of yet just getting a taste almost, dipping your toe into the pool. This is when it stated getting pretty understandable, it wasn't okay anyway, wrong even but didn’t really know why in some ideas.

My mum caught on from when we weren’t born yet that my dad just wasn’t going to do anything with himself, he’s drinking got worse and worse not going out, treating many of us to the little things, just a drive would be like a two day holiday out of town with the experience just to go out almost… she didn’t love him anymore and used us as a starting point or excuse if you will to stop drinking go out more and live life but never got more than another town.

Around this time it got harder to understand many things, I was getting bullied from other kids for things like how I looked, pale ginger kid who wasn’t that amazing at a lot, as it was more everything at once around then, every day was just getting more tackling, going home to arguing constantly and awful silence to total screech and slaughter house environment… to wake up and get picked on it was just hard.

By now it’s getting to the end of primary school, there’s another baby on the way, I remember seeing dad trying for a few times taking us out but just to the beach the odd time, nothing major but probably proved more I his mind than actually proving something, he must have pulled off another stunt like oh let’s have another kid I’ll fix everything but probably didn’t last long, I remember him having cans next to his bed, waking up and just drinking from morning to day, everything you’d have in a normal home from what I could see was not in our favour, yet I guess you got to take it how it is…

… Anyone who knows what it was like as a kid must know how day to day you don’t feel the same when you’re older, the days are much slower and have more meaning, almost every day was a lesson, so you really pick up everything around you, and when there’s nothing but grief, stress, hatred it feels a lot more than it should do, kinda what makes me think everything stays with you when you’re younger…

I was in school and this is secondary, so the teenaged years are here… It was coming up to my birthday before I even started… not saying from now until I was born I never got anything or didn’t experience a lot, I joined a tennis club which only two people out of the entire school went… and wasn’t half bad at it at all, and cricket we ended up doing school leave play as well as football.

I was the defender in the school team and didn’t loose to any school for four years running, something silly like 9-2 every other year, so I wasn’t not doing anything, more so to just leave home so I don’t have to get shit from each ear about alcoholism or how she never touches him and how she has to sleep in the kids bedroom (Sam & Kane, Kane being the youngest now) cuz she can’t stand him all that shit… but he wasn’t leaving because his one stubborn man when he goes the ideas of pure bullshit in his head… mum would say he fools for his own bullshit…

I asked for an electric guitar for my birthday, which means money, something we don’t have much of, but I kicked and screamed and did this for days, I was in my first year of secondary school coming to 13/14.

They got my one tho, and couldn’t have been more grateful, by this time my music range was the complete opposite direction as anyone who I knew, mainstream wasn’t in my vocabulary… listening to hard rock, heavy metal, screamo, all the old stuff everything under what music stand for when everyone who I knew had the new 50 cent ringtone and got phones and hand this, that, and everything I’ve never thought of even having… so when I saw these guys making these songs which made me feel something totally different than I’ve ever felt I wanted to do that.

But still he didn’t leave, not the normal thing to do so the arguments went on for years… if you can think of crying and how shit is was STILL getting bullied not ever having many friends at all…

I think why I think like I do is because of my parents, kinda like that for everyone... I think if someone doesn't fit in it's because they're weird not because they're an individual? Could be very dependent, but from my experience... once you know you don't fit it, you never really will...

Come to day to day life it was get up, listen to screaming, go school, feel shit as fuck, go home, and feel even more shit so say to day life wasn’t pleasant but the appreciation for things like a roof or food just seemed mandatory so why’d I ever feel special?

By now it come to choosing GCSEs, I got really into art by this time and more so towards drumming, before I even chose my gcses I saw an electric kit in school so when I realised that I could go to this music room and not have to deal with anything but me in a room with music I could play cuz I couldn’t at home made a difference… and I ended up being pretty good when it comes to the drums as my alcoholic father says I got a real talent… as all drunks talk pure shit…

So now I begged and begged for a drum kit… and my dad some how got one because my mum didn’t work but dad worked in a factory…

I remember watching this video of trivium and it was the lead guitarist… and I was real into my music by now, and creative side to everything, in primary I loved English writing about wonders and things instead everyone else loved maths and I hated it, if never know what they were talking about and ever felt good when it happened…

But I saw him head banging with this sharp black Flying V just looking how I felt, and he had hair down to his shoulders or longer even, and thinking I want to look like that… I want the feeling of your hair going everywhere not seeing your face just the look, so when I bring it up sometimes as a joke but being deadly serious on the inside dad was very against it. He was very metal nothing poncey dying your hair like… but mum being very flower power opinionated for me to go for I touched me to do it and do things if you want to and think don’t worry what they thing…

So this pale ginger kid with a broken family who had fuck all to do other than play music and relate to heavy music has now dyed his hair from orange, or brown with a highlight of orange just orange in the sun to black mid length and very unpopular so I didn’t really help myself…

At all…

Coming towards the end of the year I had a little group of friends that looked like me, very emo very scene, very outcast very used to taking shit for literally anyone and everyone… so it was kinda a sanctuary, then the people who I thought were my friends for so much of a year decided to do something which kinda made things worse…

I went to the park where we kinda hung out when I only ever got a pity invitation from one of the guys or sometimes girls, like they’d be like why’d you bring him but always behind my back, I met them and we hung out in this girls house and wanted to check my Facebook and when it come to me leaving I forgot to sign out, so they went on all like five six of them threatened a bunch of different 18 year olds and dealers they’d pick up from and kids from our school… all thinking it’s be because they want to believe it, they didn’t know me so would’ve assumed the worse but shit it was so obvious… so it figuratively no one liked me again.

After that day for a solid few weeks it just didn’t feel safe to go anywhere, do anything I had to stay in this horrid house, I kinda turned to music a lot because I cut my hair down sort so it was natural, I left anyone who ever hurt me and moved towards the same friends as I did in school, the one who lived up the drive, and my other who was kinda raised with, kinda hung out with their friends and then on to be some of the best people and funniest people I’ve ever met.

They were also outcasts just not visually anything, stereotypically they were the nerds, living online with a controller in their hand doing nothing all day.

I kinda always picture the worst happening because that's always what's happened, now a days it's more you choose what happens and not being afraid to tell people what I think, it help a lot when in the middle of the first year I did kickboxing... and was the best in the class, I took it seriously which lead me to ranking up belts twice or even three times more than anyone else, I soon become a brown belt, one off a black but the teacher was flaky and we stopped going, me and my dad that is... I met my first actual girlfriend there, it was the teachers step daughter, we would learn up stairs and we the adults we upstairs we hung out downstairs... she was also not one to fit in everywhere but she had a few friends. After I cut my hair and looked sort of normal I noticed a real change of how people act around you especially kids by how you look, in my mind you can be this or that, but now, it really doesn't matter what you wanna be people are gunna say whatever and it won't bother you in a month? You won't remember in a few weeks so why let it get to you now? You'd be labelled for what you are and that really sticks with people so you might as well be true. My new friends... I liked them because at least I had people to see and talk to and be okay with saying hi when they walked down the hall, but still was not liked by many at all…

When I finished school everyone says your school days are the best you’ll ever have and I I thought If that were true I think I might have to blow my brains out… but it wasn’t easy and after everything that was happening at home and in school something weird happened in my life…

Essentially my dad hit my mum well… he did, it was getting really horrid between them and like I said they did this for years living in the same house but not together like… my mum tried to move out it just couldn’t happen, she couldn’t find work and no council flat or house was ready in a few months time… more like years… but because so when this riot of a show which I’ll spare you the details of (don’t worry it was nothing major at all just it was fucked up) she called the police and obviously I stopped him as soon as he touched her ya know it was just instinct but he got taken away, and the next morning smashing a window trying to get is after mum throwing his shit out. But he left… and stayed with his mother as he is doing right now… 50… btw…

And I was skating at the time, doing not half bad at all and was getting pretty used to playing a lot on guitar and drums, and is what I still do today because I’m pretty good at it, not so much art unfortunately, but I left secondary and all the friends I made we never seen again, it was time to choose what to do with your life…

I didn’t really have a clue with not enjoying a subject other than music art and a little graphic design but nothing major…

Mum and dad being working class they wanted me to be an electrician, they wouldn’t go a conversation without thinking of the money, and I never got what you’d call affection from either when I really think about it but wasn’t interested in the outside so I guess I never had the opportunity… kinda why I down play anything I’m good at because of my own mum and dad can’t find anything to encourage out of me hearing them say how good I could be if I follow their advice and become an electrician with no interest in it al all I pursued it…

All these built up feelings, anger was one... feeling like why would who people have a kid if they couldn't get them everything they wanted... why don't you go on holiday if you could? The worst thing is wasted time which could possibly spend making memories? Depression was also one... and I kinda felt it suited a lot to do with at home... you can't go through all this shit and expect not to wanna express it, even if it meant crying because you didn't know what you did for so many people to hate you? I never thought self harm as a realise until you think of actually having something to complain about, feeling a cut on the outside is sometimes better than feeling shit on the inside.

Now I haven’t mentioned any love life or anything like that until now, because I did loose my virginity but it wasn’t what you would call boyfriend girlfriend… more we would meet and then go with it… but I met this girl, and I couldn’t think of a better time for someone to somehow enter at the most right time?

No arguments, no bullying, I was normal looking and had made a few new friends, and now meet one of the most important people I’ve met since.

I mean I don’t wanna go on cuz like we aren’t together anymore but in a sense it was pure poetry everyday, everyday felt bliss, the fire they say that lights in your belly was roaring, feeling nothing but shit to sunshine for the first time it was one of the best feeling s I’ve ever feel and still searching for it again, I just hope I don’t get to relate to those quotes you see about never finding love again…

This girl, seen the country’s of Germany, Spain, two or three others I think, and yet she want to the same secondary and got spoken about the same way people did about me yet never spoke to her before ever, just the odd few times and one day, as Im walking home from collage who do I see walking under this underpass and smiles… the very same girl?! And she smiles at me?? Not like one of those side ounces like no effort like ya know she’s making pretty darn obvious and I literally thought na it’s cool I’ll look at her she’ll look at me and we will look away like everyone who’s ever looked at me…

And I don’t even smile back so I messaged her saying sorry I didn’t smile back?? Like wtf… how lame… but come a few days later I see her sitting on the opposite table as my friends and later messaged about getting a drink… the rest is pretty much history, perfect if you will… just I don’t think I’ve met anyone who was as serious as me when it come to something so special? Never mind the fact I already did another year of collage to get my level 2 diploma in electrical which I was starting to kinda get the hang of, still not interested but I did it, and yet we ended up living together, sharing everything, thoughts food, bed, house, life, and that’s what makes me think, how can someone know someone that well inside and out, how do you find that agin I don’t know? How I did in the first place I’m not sure at all…

But now it’s starting to get a little more clearer… I read somewhere that once you realise things will never be the same that’s when you can truly move on, another was when you find love it takes twice or sometimes three times as long to get over and honestly you’ll never get over it and yet that’s poetry… it’s not how who choose, it’s the ones who you want to see for the rest of your life because sometimes memories last a life time…

And who can me anymore satisfied with how you can go from the the worst days of your life to a few years later find this soul that’s exactly the same in so many ways yet the differences are what made it fun… I was having fun and I was in love… I think once you know what something’s value is, it’s not to imagine it to be a sad loss once it does go,enjoy what is happening right now… not what was yesterday? I want to think about tomorrow.

What & Why

So I think you’ll never understand what will happen if something will happen tomorrow who you’ll meet or what you’ll be, I’m in a band and we got a festival to play in June, to 350 people and I’ve played to a crowed of 15… and other to about 40? And I’ve been giving for about 3 months, I lost my job cuz I was always late and the people were absolutely awful… and now I got an interview with some of the sweetest women and team ever? You just never know what will happen? Iv applied to a music course to do for a year and after I’m moving to Plymouth to continue a degree in music? And you know what’s stayed through the worst and the best?

Music, my skateboard, my drum kit, my mum, and even the one who can leave something behind which can never be replaced? Memories… I can’t say I’ll ever understand life and I don’t think going about it seriously was what I should’ve done and it goes for anybody? You’ll never know what will happen? So just flow with it?

My Story So Far.

So what am I doing today? What’s made it easier? Who’s there now? Do you feel any wiser? Mistakes are probably the opposite to regret for the most part…

Just because I wouldn’t be here today if I had courage to do something sooner? I might be a hell of a lot wiser and probably a lot more understanding and normal… but what’s made it all worth the story? The journey instead of the destination… and that’s why I think you’ll only ever be completely understood of life is when you get laid six feel under? You just won’t know what you’re doing ever? If you told me six years ago I was going to be make a studio and be with a bad that’s planing a week tour I would’ve been laughing…

Hopefully I can think about what I was doing today in a few years thinking of the most ridiculous ideas and be living it… and I can’t wait…

The Story So Far? Can’t say I know yet… still enjoying the journey, not thinking about the destination, I think what makes it serious, when you care too much about what’s happing next instead of now? If you never do the things you’ve always wanted to, do they happen?

You’ll never know, will i ever know what love feels like again? Does it ever feel like you’ll know what you’re doing with your life? Does it make sense that what’s happening right now is for a reason? Do you ever want to hug the people you never think about touching again? Do selfish people ever say sorry for being selfish? Variety is the spice of life? No one wants to be stuck with someone until their teeth go? That’s boring? Sex is the most fun without laughing? You’ll never know where you are until you realise you are no where…

P.s. I hope you knock on my door, I want to leave Devon without knowing the people who meant less to me think more of me? I want to know that whenever either of us look back, it’s not shit but laughing…

From Start To Beginning. How And When. What & Why… My Story So Far.

@invisible-fate98

#I'm moving away soon and want you to read this before I do

0 notes

dontsaysorrysr-blog · 7 years

Text

Hey so it is probably considerably a long time since i have written anything on here. But not like that means that i havent been having a shitty time!! so basically all of my issues stems from this guy and i fucking hate him. I love him so much and he is such a great friend of mine most of the time. We spend so much time with each other and when we hang out together alone everything is so good and we are happy and im happy and i dont think about crappy things and he understands my thinking about things and i just really enjoy spending time with him.. most of the time i guess but that goes for everyone i guess. we dated for a little bit awhile ago but now we just kinda hang out and are friends and we have sex and like were not an exclusive thing but ok yeah this is where shit gets stupid. He told me previously that he liked just me but didnt really wanna call us bf and gf or anything and i was like ok i guess im ok with that i just liked how things were going and i guess it was ok with me. which it is but only when its exclusively me and him when it comes to sex. and now idk it seems like its changed and he definitely doesnt like me as much and hes starting to stray from his word/his feelings have changed and now i dont know what to do. everything he says/does about me screws with my head and i hate myself. he told me he didnt wanna talk for like a week when he was going through some stuff and my naiive ass believed that and really it was just a trial run with other fgirls to see if i was really that imporatnt to him. and now when we hang out its not that fun sometimes and i constantly feel like i have an ultimatum like if i dont go and say yes to hang out iwth his friends or i have something to do hes just gonna fuck another girl. and i hate this because i dont want to change and do things that i dont like and arent comfy doing but i want him to like me so bad. we get along so well and idk what i would do without him as a friend but idk what to do about this thing. he treats me like a gf when im around him alone but the second he gets a chance to say anything hes like yeah im single yeah im open to fucking other girls. i just dont get it. he says he cares about me but does he really. how can he care about me but treat me like im jsut a side bitch. he makes me hate myself and wish i was someone else and im afraid that its all my stupid naive self now. its just because he took my virginity and is the only person to like me ever and he is really a friend and i just idk he prob thinks about htat too like im just being some immature bitch who is just obssesed with the person who took her virginity but i really do like him and i just want things to be straight foreward but i feel like im walking on eggshells when i try to explain myself or ask to sort things out. everytime we have ever had an argument about something or hes realized some way in which we arent incommon he wants to not talk or even be friedns for like two weeks and in that time im so sad and depressed and i feel like shit but i respect him asking for that or suggesting that but then its always me who ends up taking a shower in my stupid dorm just to be alone to cry. i dont understand what ive done to make him not treat me how i treat him. I dont know what to do and my friends all say im stupid and i believe them but i just trust him too much and i just wnat things to work out but idk what to do!!!!!! i hate myself so much for weasting so much of my time on someone who doesnt really care about me.Im crying as i write this because im so pathetic and disgusting. why do i always care about others more than i care about myself. i always think about his feeelings befor i think about mine and all i want is to be cared for and loved for being me but instead i get made to hate myself and my personality and my life and everything by this stupid fucking boy. i just want to be happy!!!! i cant never be happy it seems. this boy is ruinging things for me and everyone around me can see it but i fucking cant. i just feel like torn in so many ways. i just dont want him to fuck those tsupid bitches that just like to party and arent me i hate it so much i hate it so much i dont understand why am i so unlikeable. im getting too sad for this bullshit i shouldnt be giving this asshole the time of day. fuck him and fuck him this whole damn week.

0 notes

somedaypast-thesunset · 7 years

Text

i want to just work through these paranoid delusions right now.

but like, its hard because its actually a possibility that im not actually wrong. and i have this overall hope that i am but i could be right too.

he didnt call or answer any of my texts today. i mean, sometimes this happens. and if he just like.. didnt care enough to call or answer my texts at all, that does suck but i have paranoias that are larger and i hate that. it really bothers me that i would jump to such conclusions. and it bothers me that its even brought up to me like its something i would or maybe should (!?!) be doing. should i? am i still wrong to believe anything moire than what is here? maybe his overzealousness in “helping” was tryng to make up for whatever he would be doing today.

i sincerely do love him but i dont think it matters. and like.. something is happening. something in my brain is switching and its not just like .. a mood. i dont feel moody. its not like i get stoned and forget about it. i really feel like so many things are wrong. and like the experiences im having teaches me that life has so many variables and nothing can be predicted or made to last forever. nothing lasts.

but i want a real partnership, you know? ive said it before. and like i honestly dont think i need monetary value to be worthy of a partnership because its not a business partnership. thats not what life is about. it shouldnt be about how much money i have or where i get the money from. and it shouldnt be based on sexual needs or my desireability or availability.

i obviously feel naive in believing he probably isnt like other men. he probably is.

some days, honestly, i just want to turn to him and be like “why the fuck am i here?”. thats what its become. why am i here now? why do i continue this? what is the purpose if it amounts to nothing in the end? nothing changes. i never really have a family. im just kind of always on my own - independent but not.

i dont think alot of people understand partnership in my position as a necessity. i believe my friend did. i think he knew that in my position - man or woman, i needed a partnership. it would be incredibly hard for me to overcome this situation or my life issues itself ithout a sincere partnership. i cannot be alone. it is absolutely unfair that i have to live my life in such serious isolation. and i dont know if im like a whiny piece of shit. i dont know. i dont know anyone else in my situation right now. the only person i know at all who might vaguely is someone online i dont even speak to and i could just be projecting what i perceive because i want it so badly. just to SEE it.i feel like i need to read some how-to guide of a personal experience of how to be now. how do i exist with nothing. how can someone who has something instruct me on how to live with nothing? how could they possibly even perceive nothing?

thats my isolation. and when i say nothing, i’m not saying i literally hve nothing and will have nothing forever. i have _things_. i have pets, i have items of comfort, i have a laptop and a phone. but i dont have basic things other people have - i cant use my phone to call up a family member or some long time friend; i can but the reaction would be of confusion and general lack of care, honestly. because i HAVE. ive tried. ive reached out and ive tried and what i got back was terrible. and like.. i guess im still wondering why. like i dont understand why i bear the weight of everyones grudges against my parents. they dont care and they dont even want to care. they have their own shit. everyone has their own shit. but they continue to feed off each other and im disowned.

which is fine. okay. ive accepted that. ive accepted i will not know the people i had a basic right to know. i accept that theyre unhealthy people for my life and no matter how much i hope they wont be - they are. end of story. ive accepted, for the most part, on a basic level - my parents are dead. ive accepted from here on out, the people i know will be people ive only just met in the past year or so of my life. and it’s like being put into a strange country with no one you know and no way to contact anyone you know. everything seems totally fucking foreign and no one knows me or what ive done in life and like that story is entirely dependent on me. the only person who will tell my life story now is me. no one has a fucking clue. well i mean - my ex got a few years. and those were terrible representations of who i am as a person, honestly, because i spent a long time being uncomfortable around him. i think i loved him. maybe ive honestly never loved anyone. maybe ive honestly never been loved.

well i mean, my father. that was a deep unconditional love and i was very dependent on that love. i wanted and maybe needed that constant source of unconditional focused love. he would tell me i was his favourite child. he gave me everything and i dont necessarily need that level of love again but that was a partnership. i gave him years of my life. i fought for him. i cared for him. i went through things none of my friends had to go through at a really young age for him. i deserved that level of unconditional love. i really did. as a shitty stubborn bratty child and teen, i definitely took advantage of it on more than one occasion; but spoiled brats tend to do that sometimes. but when life became incredibly serious early on, i became incredibly serious.

i want my love to actually be worth something. and like.. even my own understanding of worth is based in money. worth = value = money. but what is my love worth? what do i deserve? i used to believe it was just a basic respect; just common decency. but thats not enough. thats not satisfying to my needs and wants in life. i feel like i deserve more.

the only way to pull me out of isolation is have someone who truly cares about me. who truly wants to know me. who wants to create more for me, to create a comfort for me because they understand i have nothing and that makes my words and stories valulable and necessary to my life and character.

0 notes