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pfreadsandwrites · 3 years

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九つの命/9 Lives Translation

Hi!! So, @foxy-and-tales asked me to tell her what was going on in the comic mentioned in this post. After skimming through it, I thought it'd be good practice - and it'd be easier to answer her question - if I just went through it and told her what it all meant. I realised by that point I was doing a translation, and since I was going to the trouble anyway, I thought I'd post it publicly.

So, the full comic is here. It's basically a comic that has 7 little stories about Kakashi's ninja hounds and their lives with Kakashi. It's an adorable, heartfelt story and I absolutely love the personalities that the artist gave all the ninja hounds and the depictions of their relationships with Kakashi.

My translation will be this post, follow it as a script. I don't have the skill or knowledge to edit and typeset and change the images myself - and I wouldn't do that anyway, as it would involve reposting the art and changing it without the artist's consent. But I do think that not referring to the pictures as you're reading through the script really harms how sweet this story is, so if you can go through the comic slowly whilst referring to my (amateur) translation of it, I hope you can get a glimpse of that!

WARNINGS: There is a depiction of an already dead dog in part 4 😢, and some (human!) male partial nudity in part 6 (😉)

Tagging: @scaredlittlefoxy @lemony-snickers @backalleykat @whatshernameis @gwedosuns @topsyturvy-dream @ice-icebaby @cosmiclattes

This is also the artist’s note that follows after the comic, that I’m putting here:

(Artist’s note translation)

"This is a story about the daily life of Kakashi and the eight ninken.

The ninja dogs’ personalities etc mightn’t be faithful to the source material.

The dogs live free range in Kakashi’s house.

There is an illustration of a dog dying, though it isn’t any of the ninken. Please take note.

You don’t have to read it, but below this are the dogs’ personalities:

Shiba: Friendly and sensitive

Biscuit: Childish and Selfish

Akino: Calm and cool demeanour

Bull: Timid and Quiet

Urushi: Ladykiller. A little bit dim. (Note: Himbo!)

Guruko: Annoyingly helpful and naggy

Uhei: Pure-hearted and cheerful

Pakkun: Same as in the series"

Some notes and then onwards into the translation under the cut:

Please take heed before continuing:

I’m not a professional translator, in fact I’ve done very little of this, so there’s some guesswork and liberties taken, and I don't claim that that there’ll be no mistakes.

I’ve separated it out by sections and pages, so you should be able to follow the story from following the speech bubbles (right to left) and referencing the lines here by speaker

Each space between a line denotes that it’s the next speech bubble

A new line but no change in speaker will denote that it’s the same character talking, but in the next panel or speech bubble

Italics means the character is thinking or flashbacks. I'll try and make this obvious as I go but the artwork should make that clear too.

Brackets are my additions, or me translating things like signs etc, or brackets will have smaller background dialogue not in speech bubbles. I'll try to make this clear as I go.

Stuff surrounded by * denotes actions or onomatopoeic actions/words in panels

Ask me if there’s any parts that confuse you about the story!! The way I’ve done this isn’t easy to follow but it's the best my dumb brain could come up with

TRANSLATION:

Title page

(p.1)

ここのつのいのち

9 Lives

(p.2)

1. ‘I won’t tell anyone’

(SFX: dogs playing and wagging tails)

Kakashi: Hm? You’re not gonna play, Shiba?

Shiba: …No. …Hey, Kakashi’

Kakashi: Hm? What?’

Shiba: There’s a girl I like’

Kakashi: Ohhh… I won’t tell anybody.

I won’t tell ~ I won’t tell ~

(p. 3)

Shiba: She’s really cute…

Kakashi: That’s great ~

Shiba: But I haven’t even spoken to her once

Kakashi: You should go for it ~

(SFX: *happy dog panting*)

Shiba: I’ll come back as soon as I’ve talked to her!’

Kakashi: Yep!

Shiba: I’ll be right back, definitely!

Kakashi: Ok, ok (lit. Yes yes)

(p.4)

Shiba: She’s already got someone (lit. she’s already in a couple/has a mate)

Kakashi: I see…

Shiba: She said her mate hurt his leg and can’t walk so he's staying at home…

(p.5)

Kakashi: Shiba, you know.. have feet that can walk anywhere…

So maybe you’ll meet an amazing girl again, won’t you?

(*dog cries*)

Kakashi: ...I won’t tell anyone. (*Comforting doggy*)

I won’t say anything. I won’t say anything.

(Kakashi: Aw, Shiba is pretty sweet to me, huh?)

2. Biscuit’s Sausage (note: I know his name is technically Bisuke in Japanese, but Biscuit is his dub name and it’s too adorable so that’s what I’m going with here! Also suits the personality he has in this story. What a biscuithead this boy is)

(p.6)

Biscuit: -You’re so sneaky, Kakashi! I wanted to eat sausages!

*crying dog noises*

(Uhei: Sorry, Kakashi…

Guruko: I told you!!)

Kakashi: You know if you eat sausages, Biscuit, your tummy will get sick, right? I’m boiling cod for you right now

(*tantrum noises, pounding feet and barking*)

Biscuit: *angry puppy noises* I hate fish, you idiot! I said I want to eat sausages! Sausages! Sausages!

Kakashi: *sternly* Biscuit

Biscuit: *whimper*

(p.7)

Biscuit: Kakashi, you IDIOT!

(2. Biscuit’s Sausage)

Biscuit: *sniff*

(Sign says Konoha Pet Food)

Biscuit: This is the store that sells the dog food Kakashi buys! Wow, maybe they have sausages here too!

(p.8)

Biscuit: I wonder if I'll be able to eat as much as I want… *gulp*

But if I did that, Kakashi would get in trouble

No, maybe…

*heart pounding*

Kakashi kept it (this) a secret just from me, because I'll get sick...

(Apron says Konoha Pet Food)

Shop Lady: *shuffles*

Biscuit: I didn't do anything yet!!! * heart pounding*

Shop Lady: Oh my… you really just talked!

Shop lady: You’re Kakashi’s pup, aren’t you?

(p.9)

Shop lady: Kakashi got you to come here, huh?

(Shop lady: you’re a good boy!)

Bisuke: Oh, no-

Shop lady: Though, he shouldn't have made you come pick it up without contacting us, huh? Here, sausages!

Biscuit: Sausages?!

Shop lady: There’s a pup among you guys that can’t have normal sausages, right?

It was a request from Kakashi.

He said he wanted me to make some especially for the puppy who can’t handle meat.

(p.10)

Shop lady: Well, here you go!! You’ll tell Kakashi we’re sorry for making him wait, won’t you?

Biscuit: Oh, um… But I don’t have any money…

Shop lady: It’s fine, because it’s Kakashi!

Whenever he has free time, he comes to pay.

I have a deal with him, you see. And he can't get the food if he's not here...

Next time, come together with Kakashi, okay?

(p. 11)

Kakashi: *casually picks up Bisuke* Thank you! This is for you ~

Shop lady: Thank you, come again!

Biscuit: Kakashi…

Kakashi: Hm?

Biscuit: Sorry…

Kakashi: Yeah…

I’m sorry too. I gave everyone else sausages while keeping it a secret from you.

I thought you’d definitely want some if you saw…

(Kakashi: But I got caught.)

(p. 12)

Kakashi: But…. Everyone’ll want some if they see this, too.

How about stopping by the park and eating it there?

We’ll keep it a secret from everyone 😊

Bisuke: *happy face licking and barking* When we get home, I’ll eat the cod too!!

Kakashi: Uhh… Well, Uhei and Guruko already ate it…

Bisuke: WHAT?!!!

(Flashback, Uhei and Guruko saying ‘Cod! Me too!! Me too! I want to eat some too!’)

3. Kakashi’s smile

(p. 13)

*paws thudding on ground/running away*

Kakashi: …Got you.

Akino: Ack!

It’s always only me that you brush so roughly, Kakashi!

Kakashi: It can’t be helped, can it? You have the thickest fur, Akino

*brushing softly* It’ll be over soon, it’ll be over soon…

Other doggies: That seems nice to me, Akino…

Kakashi: Hey, it’s falling out, it’s falling out ~

Akino: !!!

Kakashi: Look, it’s a mini Akino!! So much fur…

Akino: That’s too much hair off the bottom, Kakashi! Wha…

(p. 14)

*Kakashi continuing to laugh at his mini Akino*

Akino: There are times now where Kakashi summons us, even if he doesn’t have any business for us to take care of…

(Back then) he never ever summoned us outside of missions…

(p. 15)

Akino: He was doing all kinds of things, but he was the kind of person who never had a smile on his face…

Kakashi: If I had more time, I could make an even hairier one, you know

(Other dogs: *laughing* Akino: That’s a lie!)

Akino: Kakashi…. You're having fun?

Kakashi: *genuine smile* Yep, I am!

Akino: *smile* If you feel like it, you can keep going…

Kakashi: Oh?

(Later, Akino notices Kakashi has put sunglasses on the mini Akino)

4. Timid Bull (CW Animal Death)

(p. 16)

Bull: I’m the last ninja hound that came to Kakashi’s home.

Before that, I was living in a training centre for ninja hounds.

(4. Timid Bull)

The dogs I lived together with there… were all adopted when they were puppies.

But I still lived at the training centre, even as I became fully grown.

Ninja Hey, that dog looks tough, doesn’t he?

Centre manager: Yes, but… he’s not all that suited for battling…

Despite how he looks, he’s actually a timid dog.

Bull: I… I’m scared of insects. I’m scared of noises.

I’m scared of blood.

Centre manager: Because he can understand the stories of troubled humans, you see…

Bull: I’m scared of anything other than myself.

(p. 17)

Bull: Nobody would want a dog like me, right?

Kakashi: I found a good boy ~

Bull: *panicking* There’s no manager here!

Kakashi: Hello ~

Bull: …Hello… *heart pounding*

Kakashi: Ah, one that talks, huh…

Would you like to become one of my pups?

(p. 18)

Bull: Me…? Me, really? Quit it… That’s enough joking around.

Kakashi: What do you mean?

Bull: No-one wants me (😢)

Kakashi: No-one?

I want you, though.

Bull: What kind of a strange person would want me, I thought

(p. 19)

Bull: There were lots of dogs at Kakashi’s house

(Happy barking doggy noises)

Uhei: Woah, you’re huge! But among these guys, I have the fastest legs, you know!!!

Guruko: And I have the best nose!!

Biscuit: And I’m whiny!! (Note: lit. ‘I’m selfish!’)

Shiba: I have the sharpest bite!

Pakkun: I am the wisest. (Note: Pakkun I think uses Kansai-dialect Japanese lol so he sounds kinda... distinct. This is hard to convey for me lol)

Urushi: I’m popular with the ladies ;)

(Akino: I’m the fluffiest!)

Bull: I was so confused

You… you’re not scared of me?

I’m huge, and I have a scary face… So no one comes near me.

They all said they weren’t scared.

The reason, they said together, was…

(p. 20)

‘Because Kakashi brought you, Bull!’

Everyone was totally relaxed, as if they had no worries at all.

They all clung to me as if it was completely natural to do so.

I realised that there’d always be someone beside me.

(p. 21)

*sounds of paws scuffling against ground in first two panels*

*jumping to the ground noise in third panel*

Kakashi: …Bull, this way is a dead end.

Bull: …Sorry.

I couldn’t go back to where you were, and I thought so, but -

(p.22)

Bull: *looking at dog* He asked me to stay by his side.

…He was an enemy, but he was already dying.

That’s why, Kakashi….

Kakashi: …Yep.

Let’s give him a send-off together.

(Note: this was a tricky one because Kakashi says 送る, which means send, and is used with mail etc, but can mean to say farewells to the deceased, which is why Bull comments on it on the next page)

(p. 23)

Bull: He wanted to say ‘I want to bury him’

But Kakashi said ‘send-off’.

Lightly, as if his life force was still there

There… there are a lot of things that scare me.

When I was waiting for this dog, I was scared.

But I couldn’t refuse his request.

(p. 24)

Bull: …I’m spineless.

Kakashi: Everyone else has lots of things they’re scared of, you know.

That’s why they all stay by your side, Bull.

If you’re there, everything will be alright. That’s how everyone feels.

If you’re close by, everyone’s able to feel safe.

(p. 25)

Kakashi: ….This puppy, too.

Dying dog: …Please…

Bull: That dog…

Dying dog: Stay with me, until the end…

Kakashi: Because you stayed with him, Bull, he felt at peace, didn’t he?

Bull: I don’t think that dog was happy…

…Kakashi.

He was very thin, and he also smelt like he was sick

To protect themselves, his owner didn’t treasure this [this dog’s] life.

Kakashi, I…

Somehow, I..

I’m very…

(p. 26)

Bull: I wanted to cry out as loud as I could..

Kakashi: Yeah… (I’m not sure who’s saying this line)

Bull: For feeling guilty towards that dog, and for knowing Kakashi…

For my life being here now.

For my life, I wanted to cry it out until the blood came out of my throat.

(p. 27)

Bull: That dog…

I wonder, was that dog ever able to feel like this, even once?

(Flashback) Doggies: Because Kakashi brought you, Bull!

Uhei: Hey!!! Bull!!

Shiba: You’re late!!

I was worried, you know!

Guruko: (to others) Hey, Bull came back!!

Bull: I’m Bull. The dog that Kakashi found.

5. Urushi’s scales

(p.28)

Urushi: I think I’m good looking

(5. Urushi’s scales)

Girl pups: Ahh~ Urushi…~

Urushi: I’m popular with the ladies

(note: he uses メス, which means bitch in the literal sense - a female dog - and all the puppers use it to refer to human women too. So I just left it as ladies, as I don't think the pups mean it to be crass, they just use dog language and apply it to humans as well as themselves)

Sometimes I’m told ‘it’s probably because you’re one of Kakashi’s ninken’, but…

(Background lettering over the other dogs says ‘Unstylish/Uncool/Lame’)

But my other friends aren’t all that popular, really.

Still, I think it’s because I really am good-looking after all.

(Choruses of ‘Urushi~’, ‘Ahh…; and ‘Let’s play together, Urushi)

Urushi: Hehehe…

Being good-looking is a great thing.

Guruko: Hey, Kakashi!

(p. 29)

Guruko: You got hit by a girl again, didn’t you?!

Kakashi: *laughing* No…

Akino: Why were you hit by a girl? Do girls not like you?

Uhei: It looks like it hurts…

Kakashi: Nooo ~

Shiba: You’re so strong, Kakashi, why were you hit?

Biscuit: You couldn’t avoid it?

Guruko: *Steam from nostrils* I’ll fight her for you!

Kakashi: It’s fine, it’s fine ~

What are you saying?

(p. 30.)

Urushi: Kakashi said ‘I took responsibility’.

Sometimes humans say things I don’t understand…

Girl dog: Urushi… pair up with me.

Urushi: If Kakashi’s saying it, it must be important…

Be… Because I’m one of Kakashi’s ninken?

Girl dog: It has nothing to do with that. I like you, Urushi

Urushi: Wow… *heart pounding*

Girl dog: Pair up with me, and…

I want you to leave the ninken. (Lit. Stop being a ninken)

(p. 31)

Girl dog: I love you, Urushi, but what if, on a mission, you…

I can’t stand the thought of that!

Leave the ninken, and… always stay in the village with me?

Urushi: This girl’s a beauty, and has a kind personality…

I think that I might want to be with her…

Should I leave the ninken?

(p. 32)

Urushi: *perplexed*

Kakashi, Bull and Biscuit: *zzz, sleeping sounds*

Urushi: If I said I wanted to leave the ninken…

Kakashi: (in Urushi’s imagination) If that’s what you want, Urushi

It’s fine with me! (Background: It would be a shame, though…)

Urushi: I feel like Kakashi would say something like that…

Do I want to do that…? Not really, but… *sigh*

Hey, Pakkun.

(p. 33)

Pakkun: Something bothering you?

Urushi: Yeah, there is

I have to decide between two things, but it’s difficult…

I want both of them, but I can’t have them.

Pakkun: … Is it a girl problem?

Urushi: Yep ~

Pakkun: That’s just like you, Urushi. (Pakkun’s imagination shows two girl pups arguing:

Urushi!! Which one will you choose, me or her?! *indignant barking*)

When making a decision about something, one needs to think about what’s most.

...important to oneself.

Let’s say you balance both sides on your scales…

Urushi: My scales?

Pakkun: For example….

(p. 34)

It’s not the physical weight, but the weight of what you think is precious and important. It’s the weight of those feelings.

If you think about which is heavier, you’ll find the answer.

Kakashi: You guys are having a kinda complicated conversation, huh…?

Pakkun: Oh, Kakashi, you woke up, did you?

Urushi: *heart pounding*

Kakashi: My scales lean towards sleep, you know..

Let’s eat soon, okay? Please…

Urushi: Kakashi…. Are you happy that I’m here?

(p. 35)

Kakashi: Hm? Yeah, I’m happy!

Urushi, of course I’m happy ~

(Note: the word Kakashi uses is 嬉しい, which is ‘ureshii’ so Kakashi is making a pun with Urushi’s name here.)

Urushi: *blush* Okay!

Pakkun: What we were just talking about… Don’t talk about it in front of Shiba.

Urushi: Huh? Why?

Pakkun: Seems like he recently had his heart broken…

(p. 36)

Urushi: The thing that’s most important and precious to me… isn’t you.

That’s why I can’t be with you.

I can’t be with you, but… you’re a beautiful and amazing lady.

So, let’s meet again one day ~

Biscuit: Kakashi! Kakashiiiii! It’s awful!!

(p. 37)

(*throbbing pain*)

Biscuit: Urushi’s hurt!!

(*dogs barking*)

Guruko: Let’s go fight them!! *steam from nostrils*

Shiba: No way, is it a girl? Kakashi, you better tell him off!!!

Kakashi: Did you get into a fight with a dog from the village?

Urushi: No, it’s not that…

I took responsibility.

I’ve got a manly mark on my face, heh~

Shiba: You better tell him off!! *bark*

Pakkun: That’s it…

6. Kakashi’s Helper Team!

(p. 38)

Kakashi: I’m home~!!!

Guruko: ?!!! Kakashi, you stink!!

Kakashi: *sweetly smiling* Oh, stop it…

I saw Asuma after a long time, and we talked and ended up getting some drinks… It was nice to see him… *flops down on floor*

Guruko: Take a bath!!!

Don’t go to sleep!!

(*soundly sleeping*)

(p. 39.)

Guruko: Uhei! Uheiii!

Uhei: What is it?

Guruko: Let’s clean up Kakashi!

(6. Kakashi’s Helper Team!)

Uhei: Ehh… But if he wakes up, he’ll take a bath himself, won’t he?

(SFX: Heave-ho! Heave-ho!)

Guruko: We can’t leave Kakashi as he is when he’s this stinky! It’s fine, take it off!

Uhei: Uh, this is stuck half way, I can’t take it off

Guruko: Because you haven’t taken off his leg bandages!

(p. 40)

Guruko: Damn, this is stuck half way *pulling*

Uhei: Isn’t that because you haven’t taken off his headband?!

Guruko: This is enough, let’s carry him to the bath like this!

(*dragging noises*)

Uhei: Won’t his clothes get wet?

Guruko: It’s fine, because we’re going to wash them anyway!

Uhei: It’s amazing… Kakashi still hasn’t woken up!

Guruko: Okay, let’s wash him!

Uhei: Isn’t that… the shampoo that we use?

Guruko: It’s totally safe!!

If it’s fine for us to use, it’ll be fine for Kakashi too, right?

Uhei: I guess…

(p. 41)

Uhei: We can wash his body, but what about his clothes?

(SFX: *scrub scrub*)

Guruko: If we wash them together, it’ll be fine! Hey, pour some hot water over here ~

Uhei: Okay!

(SFX: *splash*)

Kakashi: *suddenly yelling* I’m gonna die!!

Guruko: *screaming*

Kakashi: Even with my face covered, if you pour hot water on me, I can’t breathe, you know!! You really can’t do that.

Guruko: You woke up…

(SFX: *heart pounding*)

Uhei: You really scared me…

(p. 42)

Kakashi: You’d started something, and I wondered how far you’d carry on… Ah, I’m drenched.

Guruko: Ah, I’m sorry, Kakashi!!

Kakashi: Well, anyway.. you guys ended up cleaning yourselves pretty good too. You’re all drenched, too.

Guruko: Then I’ll go get some towels!!

Uhei: Kakashi, Kakashi

Guruko acts the way he does, but he really loves looking after you!

Kakashi: I know.

Biscuit: I want to have a bath with Kakashi too ~

Guruko: That’s not it! It’s just all slippery (note: not accurate, but the gist is that Biscuit misunderstands and Guruko puts him straight)

7. I’ll always love you

(p. 43)

(Flashback)

Sakumo: Pakkun…

Pakkun…

I have a favour to ask.

(Present)

Pakkun…

(SFX: Snoring)

Kakashi: Pakkun..

(SFX: Gasp)

Pakkun: Huh?

Kakashi: It’s time to eat.

(p. 44)

Pakkun: Alright.

(Other dogs: Food~ Food ~

Kakashi: Yes ~ Yes ~)

(Flashback)

Sakumo: Pakkun…

Pakkun….

Pakkun..

(p. 45)

Pakkun: Kakashi?

Kakashi: Hm?

Pakkun: For the mission report before… You didn't need me, did you?

Why did you bring me?

Other dogs: We want to come too!!

Kakashi: It’s just Pakkun for today

Kakashi: Hmm…

Hey, let’s relax here for a little while.

Pakkun: What’s this…

Kakashi: Come on…

Well…

(p. 46)

Kakashi: I want to talk about Dad.

…No. Maybe it’s a confession?

Talking about Dad…. Felt like something we couldn’t even broach. Ever.

I think you felt this way too, right, Pakkun?

I couldn’t tell you earlier that ‘it’s all right now’. Even though it was.

It was just a matter of timing, I guess…

Pakkun: But I wasn’t waiting for you to say that… Even if you’d have said it earlier, that’d have been good, but..

Why, out of the blue like this?

A change like that… Just like…

Just like…

(p. 47)

(Flashback)

Sakumo: I have a favour.

(Present)

Kakashi: The day Dad died…

Ever since then, for a long time, now… I became strange.

I’ve been nothing but trouble for you.

Pakkun: Kakashi-

Kakashi: Even though… you were hurting over Dad not being here too.

(p. 48)

Kakashi: Dad was your first master, right?

You really were precious to him.

….The other day, when you were having a nap, I woke you up, didn’t I?

It might have been because of the food, but your nose was twitching.

At first, I thought you were growling.

When I woke you up, you had a really startled expression when you looked at me.

I understood right away.

You were thinking about Dad, right?

(p. 49)

Kakashi: You were having a dream about Dad that time, right?

Thank you for always being considerate towards me…

But it’s alright now.

From now on, I want you to tell me…

The things about Dad that only you know.

(p. 50)

Pakkun: Sakumo…

(Sakumo: Pakkun…)

Pakkun: …really was a loving, kind man.

Kind, and…

(Sakumo: Pakkun…)

Pakkun: Kind, and…

…Kakashi.

I’ll tell you about Sakumo.

The things I’ve always wanted to tell you

I’ll tell you now.

Kakashi: Okay.

(p. 51)

Kakashi: Thank you for telling me about Dad, Pakkun.

Pakkun: …Don’t you dare die.

(Pakkun…)

I’ve had enough now.

Yeah. Enough.

(p. 52)

(Sakumo: I’m asking.…)

Pakkun: Sakumo…

The two of you are exactly alike.

Kakashi: Oh, really?

Pakkun: Everything’s alright now.

(p. 53)

“Kakashi!”

(p. 54)

(No text)

(p. 55)

Kakashi!

(p. 56)

Kakashi

(Note: I think the favour Sakumo asked of Pakkun was to take care of and be mindful of Kakashi always. This isn't outright stated)

#naruto #kakashi #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #pftranslates #fan comic #translation #fan translation

76 notes · View notes

multifandom-girlie · 3 years

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓

Imagine: “Could I request a Daniel Gillies smut like they are both at the comic con(they are both in the originals) and he is teasing her while he answers a question ? Or makes fun with Joseph and he says some dirty things.” Requested by @elijahspersonalwifeyyy .

Pairing: Daniel Gillies x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Words:

Edited: Yes

A/N: I apologise @elijahspersonalwifeyyy for the incredibly long wait. I’ve had this lined up to post but with coursework and writing so much at the same time, it’s made it difficult but I refuse to quit. I’m not a quitter. I’m also not a person to announce a hiatus. Either way, hope you enjoyed ! There is a lot to read I know but we needed a build up and this is one of my favourite comic cons ever, I wanted to do the before hand scenes either way so. Don’t forget to check out my new story “On The Way” !

All of us at the current moment in time were stood backstage waiting to be called on. I couldn't tell you how irritated I was when I went on after Joseph and then Daniel followed. They were both irritating enough to me together anyway but they were in a particularly annoying mood today and I was not prepared for it.

“The man who will break your heart and then rip it out and then probably eat it. Joseph Morgan.”

The whole audience cheered as he walked on and he waved quite casually as he did.

“The women who brings all men to there knees but still can't find anything better to do than drink wine. Y/N Y/L/N”

I giggled as I walked out and I saw the audience screaming and Joseph giving me a mischievous look.

“The brother with a suit for every occasion. Daniel Gillies as Elijah.”

He walked out, threw me a quick smirk and blew a kiss to the audience as they screamed. He pulled his chair out and smiled at everyone.

“Nice jacket.”

“Yeah. Give it up for this jacket ! Huh ? Out of a suit and into a smoking hot jacket.”

“I know right, the one time he's not wearing a suit.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift from Y/N.”

“Aw that’s super sweet Y/N.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift for our anniversary.”

“Really ? How many years ?”

“Seven.”

“and very sweet.”

He called the rest of our costars out and we continued on with the panel.

After the host had started the panel with a question for Julie and Michael, it was now a group question for me, Joseph and Phoebe.

“Uh now going to the show, we've seen Klaus and Lily and Klaus and Hayley kind of trying the uh co-parenting thing and it did not really go so well as we all saw. How is Klaus going to be as a parent now that Hayley isn't around and Lily and Elijah have reconciled ?”

As soon as the question was asked, we all turned to Joseph.

“Uh you know, before he alienated his whole family by toasting Elijah's girlfriend, sleeping with his wife and and and cursing the women he thought he was in love with um Klaus survived under this sort of umbrella of Elijah's protection and forgiveness I suppose and so Elijah was always a voice of reason and Hayley was always there to battle it out with him. So, I would say badly. He's gonna do badly as a single parent you know and I think he knows he's kinda messing it up but he's trying. At least he's trying. You gotta give him that. Even if he's warping the minds of his two daughters, one before she's even uttered a syllable and the other before she get's old enough to realise that Klaus and Lily aren't actually together you know like she’s thought for years.”

“Geez. So uh how are are Lily, Elijah and Klaus going to tell her ? Who's going to be the one that does it or will they all do it together ?”

I decided to answer this questions, being more involved with the story line of my children.

“I think that Lily will have to be the one to tell her and whilst doing so will definitely have to be quite cautious when telling Sofia, you know not only because she's only 7 years old but also because she’s thought of Elijah as her Uncle her whole life- and although that hasn't changed it's still going to be difficult since this latest revelation is that, her Uncle Elijah that she adores oh so much is now also 'mommy's boyfriend' or in more formal terms her step-dad. So I think she's going to be confused and it might be quite difficult for her at first but I think she’s mature for her age and that she will understand quite quickly that, Mommy and Daddy aren't together and that despite realizing that her mom was married to her uncle I think she will quickly appreciate the fact we told her because of her understanding personality. “

Daniel quickly leaned forward and spoke before the host could ask another question.

“The moral of the story is, don't sleep with your husband's brother. Especially when not using protection and then deciding to get back together with your husband before trying to force him to sign the divorce papers.”

The whole room suddenly echoed with loud laughter and I couldn't stop giggling myself despite being offended for my character. I hit his arm playfully. He grinned at me and rested his hand on my leg as the room calmed down and he slouched back in his chair a little.

“Very true. So, I mean he can always just compel a few dozen nannies but he does have Elijah there to help him co-parent you know not just with Sofia but with Hope. I'm thinking like shared schedules, late night feedings...Whose doing what ?”

“It’s like we both wake up and the baby is crying and it's like, are you going to get her or am I ? Alright, I'll get her.”

“Yeah no it's gonna be me. I'm gonna do the graveyard shift, I know that all to well. But we gotta remember too, Lily and Freya are going to be doing a large share of the work.”

“Oh yeah, they can do it. There you go.”

I giggled and hit Joseph in the shoulder for the comment.

“Sexist.”

“No, come on. Lily's already been through this twice she knows’ what she's doing and Freya's Switzerland at this moment in time, I think for both of us to be in there...I’m gonna stop talking.”

We all chuckled at Daniel's comment.

“Now we're going to go to audience questions in just a little bit but first I wanted to do something fun. I know it's not the holiday's and I know we don't have a big ass bonfire in front of us but I thought it would be quite fun if everybody kinda thinks about a wish for their character for the future, just throw it in the imaginary bonfire.”

“Well, I'm a human....so I just want to stay alive.”

“Good answer.”

“Oh I forgot you weren't a character.”

“I have wishes for everybody but I don't have a character.”

“I do wish for Julie that Supernatural Judge Judy becomes her next spin off and Exploding Ovaries is the title of Daniel Gillies' next memoir.

“A wish for Hayley would be that Hope can live a normal, happy existence. I think would be what she would want the most.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Thank you. That's it, I'm done.”

“Uh, I think for Elijah...I mean other than wishing that his girlfriend's wouldn't be incinerated or his wife doesn't sleep with his brother again...”

I giggled at Daniel's comment, despite his comment towards my character and spoke with Joseph, simultaneously.

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm not letting that one go easily. So, uh...I would wish for him. Oh man. I wish for him, I’m actually wishing for something dark, like I sort of would wish for...a great division between the brothers before reconciliation.”

“So that's how it's going to be.”

“So, my wish for Lily is um...to finally find that bloody fertility spell that she's been looking for, for centuries. So that her and Elijah can have children of their own which they want more than anything and move somewhere outside of New Orleans in a nice family home, away from the drama.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Uh, I wish everyone would just do what Klaus says because he's always right. He knows what he's doing. It's for the greater good. Come on. Get on board with his plans. Everything will be alright in the end. Not everyone will be alright in the end but everything will be alright in the end. Right ?”

“Um, I wish Marcel would cross over. No.”

“I wish for more of your cleavage.”

I couldn't help but laugh a little when he says comments like that. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I knew the double meaning behind it. Daniel has not taken his eyes away from my chest today. That's what breast feeding does to you, I suppose. When Daniel picked my outfit this morning, I was glad. I was going to wear some leather pants and a red blouse with some heels but he somehow convinced me to wear a dress. God was I glad, I actually listened to him. It was hot in San Diego summer heat and I underestimated a little when I decided on leather pants.

“Yeah. We gonna get some dollar bills. Let's see some ones. Tryna make some money out here. Somebody, put on some Usher. Slow jam. Uh yeah...”

“I have a twenty. What can we get for a twenty ?”

“Break it up. Break it up.”

“Make it into ones and let's make it rain.”

“If I throw loose change at you, can I make it hail ?”

“Alright, moving on. Next subject.”

“Um, Davina is a witch and I think it would be really cool if she could fly. So, whether it's a broomstick or something else...I still think it would be really cool.”

“That’s a good one. Um, mines pretty selfish. I hate shaving, so I wish we could work something in so Vincent could have like a huge beard.”

“I changed my mind, I want superpowers as well. Three one foot long, retractable adamantine claws from each hand please.”

”Why is the camera on me ? I wanna fly. I wanna see these guys fly. I want them charging up walls and...we don’t have the budget for that. I wanna see more vampirey stuff. Why am I wishing again ? I exhausted my wish.”

“You guys can make as many wishes as you want. This is your made up tradition.”

“It’s raining wishes on you.”

“Raining for your wishes.”

“God this is embarrassing.”

“T it up.”

“T what up ?”

“What do your need for a rain of wishes ?”

“What happens when it rains ?”

“An umbrella.”

“What ?”

“An umbrella, sweetheart.”

He closed his eye in frustration and dropped his upper half into my lap, whilst we all laughed at his slow mind.

“Oh shit. Umbrella. So sorry, so sorry.”

“The rain, the umbrella...”

“Dropping hints. Awesome, alright well let’s turn it over to some audience questions.”

“Hi, my name is Julia and first I'd like to say, I love you all. Especially Joseph Morgan and Danielle Campbell.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t worry, I love you Daniel.”

He squeezes my thigh and leans in to kiss my head. Before deciding to move his arm around my shoulders and hugging me into his side. I rested my hand on his thigh as I hugged him back.

“I love you too, beautiful.”

I blushed and smiled, whilst the audience all awed. Which prompted the red in my cheeks to darken. I sat back up straight and he returned his hand back my thigh, yet this time a little higher up and whilst stroking the fabric of my dress up my thigh.

“My question is for the whole cast and it is, if you were able to play another role...who would you wanna play ?”

“On our show ? Or just in general ?”

“Yeah. On The Originals.”

“I..I think I would choose Hayley. The Hyrbid female. She's a pretty cool character. Your welcome.”

“Um, I would play...Klaus. Mind you probably better but...”

“I don't wanna play anybody else, I wanna play Elijah.”

“I would play, Elijah....purely because it would be an absolute blessing to wake up that hot everyday and he's a pretty awesome character.”

He smirked at me and moved his hand further up my leg, his fingers now resting at the hem of my white lace thong. I gulped a little but held my composure. It seemed hat every time I complimented him, he got further up my leg and closer to my core. Like a game...and I was more than happy to play.

“If...If I had to absolutely play someone else uh, I would play Oliver because I just think he needs to be brought back to the show...and uh #saveollie. Bring him back !”

“Uh, I would play Elijah because I think I look damn good in a suit.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Buttoned up to the naval.”

“There we go. I know it's distracting for you, my body.”

“I cannot concentrate. I refuse to continue.”

“Um, I would play Genevieve. I thought she was a really cool character. She was a lot of fun to work with.”

“I see some Genevieve fans in the house, awesome.”

“Um, yeah I think I might choose Elijah too. I think uh, it's a really cool character that Daniel has created.”

“They both quietly believe they can bring more to the role, is what they’re saying. Not quietly, they're saying it to an audience of like three thousand.”

“Only because of what you've done with it Daniel.”

“Hi Guys, wow that's loud. I'm so sorry, my name's Marissa. First, I want to say Daniel I watched saving hope and your death killed me. I'm so sorry that you died.”

“Yeah, tell me about it ! I was gutted.”

He squeezed my thigh a little more and started making circles with his finger on the spot closed to my core.

“Oh my goodness.”

Yeah, oh my goodness indeed. He really knew how to make a woman feel good, without hardly doing anything...quite literally.

“Um, so my question is for Julie and Michael. Um, I was wondering...there’s so much violence on the show and so much adult stuff and I was wondering if the network or the studio has ever told you, 'No you can't do that’ ?”

We all started laughing in reply to the questions.

“Oh, we have a story about that don't we...Leah.”

“I don't wanna tell the story again.”

“There's things that we did that couldn't be shown.”

“So here's the thing about broadcast television is that, apparently you can decapitate someone, you can drive a knife into a vampires skull, you can rip out their heart, you can shove a pencil up their nose, you can stab them a million times with glass but when stimulating a sex scene...if there's any movement at all that one would define as thrusting...”

“No thrusting. Pull back on the thrusting.”

“A motion that originates from the hip.”

Charles decided to get up and share a demonstration of thrusting and everyone on stage started laughing and the audience started to scream. Daniel gripped my thigh a little harder, due to jealously. I didn't have to ask him what the reason was, I already knew. At the best of times, he was not a jealous person. He loves and trusts me and Charles a lot and he knows nothing would happen but when he's horny and in need of some attention...he does get jealous. Understandably so, I know because we both do. His pinky finger then started to stroke me, through the lace of my pants.

“It’s difficult because I don't actually remember thrusting being in the script. That was something the actors chose.”

“It was a creative choice. I mean, look at Charles...you would do the same thing. Also, let's not forget the originators of this little problem.”

The audience stayed silent, indicating that they weren't sure how to react to her last sentence. I leaned into Daniel and rested my forehead against his bicep in retaliation to Leah's comment. I couldn't stop giggling, despite the finger rubbing against my wet thong and the blush rising on my cheeks. Daniel was using his other hand to pinch his forehead, whilst chuckling.

“Come on guys, explain it.”

“So, what happened was we were doing the flashback sex scene of Elijah and Lily's wedding night. Daniel got a bit too excited and started to thrust a little and I tried hiding it by opening my legs a bit more.As I did, my underwear snapped because it wasn't as flexible as I thought. So, I had to pay a fine for showing too much skin because the sheets had come off of me a little and we hadn't realised. Not that it was much it was just a little side boob, still.”

“So, it wasn't the thrusting ?”

“No, ironically it wasn't.”

“Let me tell you. There was some excellent, simulated thrusting in those scenes. That was cut, per broadcast standards. While, I think in the same episode seventeen people got brutally massacred. It is what it is.”

“Some of the best thrusting. I hope it makes the special features.”

“Charles called Leah, for some extra rehearsal before hand.”

“Hi I'm uh Skylar. Um, I know that between you there has been a myriad of different supernatural creatures. Uh, Phoebe...I think you've been a werewolf, a witch and a mermaid. Uh, in really life...What would you wanna be ?”

“Well, I would say witches because witches don't have to turn on a full moon and they don't have to be like plagued by vampire...the demon’s of vampires. They can just have all the power and really cute outfits...and if I can look more like Danielle Campbell. I'll take it.”

“H20 rocks!”

“Thank you ! Well actually I-Im gonna say a mermaid then. Like, life is better under the sea and I think I would be a mermaid.”

“I don't know-"

“Merman ?”

“Merman. No, I...um. I'm pretty pervy...so I'd say like invisibility.”

“Um, so I'm not pervy at all unlike Daniel. I do think that Heretics are soooo cool though. Like, they can do magic and they are vampires but still have all those human capabilities...like procreation. So, yeah a heretic.”

His hand stopped stroking me through the lace of my panties suddenly and I instantaneously felt a cold gush of air race up my well-shaved legs and punching me in my core. I felt the frayed edges of my lace tickling my upper thigh, where they shouldn't be. Hinting that my favourite pair of thongs had been snapped. I turned to Daniel and narrowed my eyes at him whilst he just continued the panel, like nothing happened. His hand when back to it’s original position resting on my thigh, clearly in punishment for making a comment about his pervy answer.

“Nah, I'm happy where I am. You know, Hyrbid. Definitely not, invisibility. When I joined the show, I thought I was only gonna be a vampire so I was thrilled when I was a werewolf-vampire. I'm sticking to my guns.”

“I like being the token human. I'm just gonna like stay there. Create more mermen.”

“Season three, season of the mermen.”

“The next spin-off.”

“That would be so cool, let me be a mermaid. I would kill it .”

Joseph put his arm on the back of my chair, looking at me after I made my wish known to be a mermaid.

“You better not cum in the water.”

The entirety of the room ruptured into fits of laughter. Even Daniel, who had now moved his hand closer to my core again. Letting his fingers stroke my entrance. Meanwhile, I continued laughing...ignoring the feeling of my husband’s gentle and sensual touch.

“I’m blushing.”

“Hi, I'm Katie. If you were to go to Comic Con, on the floor. Is there anyone you would dress up as ?”

The first thought that came to mind was pleasing Daniel. If I said him there was no doubt he'd give in. The problem was, was it a risk I was willing to take...at a comic Con in front of three thousand fans and some of my closest friends.

“Daniel Gillies.”

Every one repeated my answer and whilst doing so I was discovering that I was unequivocally correct with my thought process. Sure enough, Daniel plunged his fingers straight into my entrance leaving me to deal with the resounding squeal that ripped from my throat. Causing Daniel to laugh at me, influencing Joseph to join in.

The final question had just been answered by Daniel and I was leaning my head into Daniel's shoulder to help with controlling the moans erupting inside me. The warmth in my stomach has just appeared as quickly as it vanished again, Daniel had stopped and chuckled at my irritated expression. Nevertheless, I got up and shoved my now broken thongs in Daniel's jacket pocket and waved at the fans with a bright smile on my face as we all walked off. We had just got out of the fan's eyesight when a hand delivered a hard slap to my barely covered assume cheek as this dress was so short. I span around and grabbed his wrist before dragging him further backstage, behind a screen next to the dressing rooms.

“What do you think your doing ? Playing around like that during a panel and then not even letting me finish ?!”

I didn't even let him reply as I dragged his face down towards mine and kissed him lustfully. His hands wandered down to my waist and clutched the already tight fabric tighter around me. The other unoccupied hand drove down to my ass and clutched it, allowing the skirt to rise up. Exposing the bare skin of my cheek. I used one of my hands to undo his zipper before pulling his dick out and stroking it. Clearly, he was eager because before I knew it. I was pressed up against the wall, sticking my tongue down his throat and moving myself up and down on his already hard cock. What we hadn't realised that the screen had moved, as Daniel had knocked it with his foot when walking to the wall. He pulled away and smirked at me.

“You told me we wouldn't have public sex after last time.”

“This is the last time Mr Gillies, I'm promising you.”

We smiled at eachother and kept going against the wall. His tip caused some tension when arriving to a depth he hadn’t before but it was a pleasurable one most definitely. The lips of my pussy enveloped his tip and he ran it through my drenched folds before deciding to plunge into me once again. I was about to scream and he knew I wasn’t good at being quiet when he fucks me so good. I clung onto him hoping it would relieve tha ache he’d created by filling me so good. He sat down on a chair that was sat in a chair of the little area backstage. Sitting down, allowed his thrusts to speed up rapidly and his face to rest in between my smooth and nearly covered beasts. He bit my hardened buds through my dress and caused a shive of please to shoot down to my core and promoting me to burst.

I then decided to let go and couldn’t help but let out a gratifying scream for him. I was coming down from my high and the screen pulled back. A man that looked about 40, eyed us disgusted and told us to move it.

“Well atleast I won the deal ?”

“Remember the deal we had ? If I was right about is having sex in public again no matter how much you denied that we wouldn’t. Your were very adamant.#

MASTERLIST

#imagines #the vampire diaries #the originals #to imagine #tvd imagine #tvd #the originals imagines #elijah mikaelson #daniel gillies x reader #daniel gillies has ruined me #daniel gillies smut

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silverlightqueen · 3 years

Text

Cursed

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

wizard!Seungmin x human!reader - crack comedy, y/n’s a bit of a spoilt brat and Seungmin is not down for it lol

Word Count: 3k+

Summary - Seungmin is the best wizard in town. Poisoned by a pixie? Battered by a troll? Bitten by a were? Whatever the magical injury, Seungmin can fix it in the bat of an eyelid. So when y/n is cursed by a witch and needs his help, she expects to leave his lair curseless only a few minutes later. But her plan… doesn’t quite go to plan.

Warnings: y/n is a total judgemental bitch lmao and Seungmin wants to teach her a lesson, brief mention of blood and vomit, I think that’s it but please let me know if I missed else!

a/n: and here is the seventh instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you @silverlightprincess for being the best (she didn’t proofread this either but she’s about to read it after I post it and check for mistakes which I will go back and edit lmao). please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts too x

taglist: @kodzu-ken @cloudsgathering @silverlightprincess

silverlightqueen navigation

‘Hi, how can I help?’ the receptionist says, looking up from her computer to give me a friendly smile. ‘Hi, I’ve got an appointment with Dr Kim at 1.30,’ I say, and she blinks at me in surprise before looking at her computer, clicking away. ‘Ah, y/n y/l/n, is it? You booked yesterday?’ ‘Yes, that’s me.’ ‘You’re lucky to get an appointment with Dr Kim so late. And during his lunch break, too! Do you know him?’ she asks, and I hesitate before replying, ‘I used to. We… went to school together.’ ‘Oh, that’s nice! Well, take a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here,’ she says cheerily, and I give her a weak smile before turning to take a seat.

The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery is unlike any Doctors’ Surgery I’ve ever seen before; the reception is relatively normal, with its cold lighting, linoleum flooring and hard backed chairs, but the patients are quite… abnormal. A man is sat two seats away from me, his body covered in hair and long sharp claws protruding from his fingers – I hear him telling the fairy beside him, whose wings are wilted and colourless, that he hasn’t been able to fully turn into his wolf form or his human form for weeks. Opposite them, a vampire sits with a bucket in his lap, vomiting blood into it every few moments, and the centaur stood beside his seat with his tail wrapped in a bloody bandage rubs his back soothingly. I think I’m the only human in here.

Normally, I’d have driven out to the Doctors’ Surgery in the next district – everyone knows that The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery caters specifically to magical injuries – but I somehow don’t think my problem can be solved by a human doctor. When I phoned the surgery yesterday, I asked for the next possible appointment. I was told by the receptionist that that wouldn’t be until mid-November, which never would’ve worked. So I did what I swore I wouldn’t do, and asked the receptionist to ask Dr Kim if he had any availability for y/n y/l/n. The receptionist sounded sceptical, but he put me on hold anyway, and came back to tell me that Dr Kim said he could just about fit me in.

‘Miss y/l/n? Dr Kim is ready to see you in Room 13,’ the receptionist calls out, and I rise from my chair, passing the vomiting vampire with a wince. I head down the clinical corridor, white bar lights flickering overhead, and when I reach Room 13, I take a deep breath and raise my hand to the door. I knock once, twice, and then wait to be told to come in. I hear nothing. I roll my eyes, knocking again a few moments later, and then I hear him call out, ‘Come in!’

I turn the handle, tentatively opening the door and slipping into the room. Whilst the reception may have looked like any old Doctors’ Surgery, Room 13 certainly does not. The walls are black and purple, flickering yellow lamps casting an eerie glow and providing the brightness that the room needs due to having no windows. The floor is an ugly brown and red patterned carpet, the kind you find in a decades old manor house, and wooden shelves and chests of drawers are dotted around the room, covered with various suspicious looking bottles and jars. Old tapestries hang on the walls, and mismatched armchairs and beanbags sit around the rickety table in the middle of the room – I suppose it’s more of a kitchen island type thing than a table – which has a crystal ball, magic wands and various mystical objects sitting atop it. The only things in the room that don’t look otherworldly or ancient are the laptop on the table, and the man stood in front of it, typing away.

He doesn’t look up when I walk in, so I just shut the door behind me, throwing myself down onto the comfiest looking armchair, practically sinking into it. I busy myself with filing my freshly done nails – I love my nail lady, but she can somehow never get them all even – whilst I wait for him to be done. ‘I just cleaned the room and you’re getting nail filings everywhere,’ he says after a few minutes, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Are you sure you cleaned it? It looks a state,’ I say dryly, and he lets out a little laugh as I pull a flask out of my bag. I get up from my seat and hand him the flask, ignoring his raised eyebrow. ‘Wait, is this-’ ‘Iced americano. The way you like it,’ I say, and he grins, taking it from me with badly hidden excitement. ‘Look at you. Sweetening me up,’ he observes amusedly, and I roll my eyes again. ‘I was making it for myself but now I feel a little sick, so you can have it,’ I lie, and he just gives me a suspicious side-eye before sipping from the flask and letting out a blissful sigh.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asks after a few seconds, and I sigh, dragging one of the higher chairs over to the table and sitting on it, not wanting to be a few feet shorter than him in the armchair. ‘I need your help with something,’ I say, and he looks surprised. ‘Wait, you’re actually here to be treated?’ ‘Um… yes. Why else would I be here?’ I ask confusedly, and he hesitates. ‘Thought you might be here to… see me,’ he says quietly, and I feel a little awkward. ‘I… Seungmin, you have to understand w-’ ‘I understand, y/n, I completely understand, and I don’t blame you. It’s just that I’ve… missed you. And I don’t mean I’ve missed our relationship. I’ve missed you in my life. You don’t even show up to family events anymore, and my mum keeps asking why she hasn’t seen you. I don’t have the heart to tell her what happened,’ he murmurs, my heart twisting with guilt. I’m not quite sure what to say, desperately wracking my brains, but there isn’t anything to say, so we’re both silent.

Seungmin and I grew up living in houses opposite each other. Our parents were best friends, so we were best friends. We remained that way through nursery, all of school, and into our adult lives too. I was quite proud of having a wizard best friend who could solve nearly any problem I ever had. He made sure I never failed any tests, hurt myself, got into trouble, and he fixed anything I ever broke, found everything I ever lost, made sure nothing bad ever happened to me. And then we did the worst thing we could’ve done, and we fell in love with each other. Two years later, I had aged two years, and Seungmin had not – wizards are immortal, and so he stopped aging from the age of 18. 22-year-old me was dating 18-year-old Seungmin. It doesn’t seem like much of an issue, but I started thinking about the future. What about when I turned 30, and Seungmin still hadn’t aged a day into adulthood? When we’d had a child together, and he looked more like the kid’s sibling than the father?

‘Anyway… what’s wrong? Why’d you need my help?’ he asks, and I sigh deeply. ‘Basically… I was at the club with Chaeryeong the other night, and we were in the toilets, and I was putting on lipgloss. This girl next to me asked if she could use it, and I was like, ‘um, no’, because who shares lipgloss with a stranger in a club, and she got angry and started saying, ‘you think you’re so gorgeous, and you think you’re better than me,’ and basically went off on one, so I may have retaliated slightly, and turns out she was a witch, so she put a curse on me,’ I explain all in one breath, and Seungmin raises a sceptical eyebrow. ‘You wanna tell me what really happened?’ he asks, and I blink once, twice, before sighing.

‘She asked to borrow my lipgloss and I was kinda drunk and I may have been a bit of a bitch and told her she needed more than just lipgloss to fix her face,’ I admit ashamedly, and Seungmin’s mouth falls open. ‘y/n!’ ‘What? It’s not like I lied! Her makeup was terrible! It was the completely wrong colour for her skin, she hadn’t blended it, her eyelashes weren’t the right shape for her eyes and she hadn’t glued them on properly so they were hanging off, her eyeshadow clashed with her lipstick, it was all terrible! I wasn’t about to let her put my expensive ass lipgloss on top of that god-awful lipstick. So I tried to give her some girl-to-girl advice, but I was drunk so it came out the wrong way!’ I say defensively, Seungmin shaking his head at me in disbelief.

‘Did you tell her all those things? ‘…I may have, yes.’ ‘You’re such a bitch, y/n. Maybe she did her makeup like that on purpose. Maybe no one’s ever taught her how to do makeup. You didn’t need to come for her like that. God,’ he says, voice laced with shock and disappointment, and I feel like a little kid being told off by their teacher. ‘I apologised when she started crying b-’ ‘You made her cry?’ he demands, voice going up a few octaves, and I pout. ‘I didn’t mean to! I apologised, but she was already angry, so she cursed me,’ I say in a small voice, Seungmin’s unimpressed gaze making me feel quite ashamed. Not that I didn’t already! He’s just making me feel worse.

‘What was the curse she put on you?’ he asks, and I let out an angry noise just at the thought of it. ‘That I’ll age to look quadruple how old I actually am,’ I spit, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘I’ve never heard that before. She probably just said it to scare you.’ ‘That’s what I thought. Until this happened,’ I say, turning my head away and lifting up my hair to reveal the base of my neck. I hear him suck in a breath, knowing he’s seeing the lock of hair at the back of my head, the one that’s now a powdery grey colour, wiry and ratty amongst the perfectly healthy hair that I put so much effort into looking after.

‘My body’s getting achy and I’ve got all these pains everywhere that I didn’t have a couple days ago. So I think the curse is real, Seungmin,’ I say seriously, and he nods, looking thoughtful. ‘So you want me to lift the curse off you?’ he asks, and I nod, giving him my best wide innocent eyes. ‘Can you do it?’ I ask, and he’s silent for a moment before replying, ‘I can. But I won’t.’ My heart drops, my mouth falling open slightly, and I blink at him a few times before I say, ‘what do you mean, you won’t?’ ‘I won’t lift the curse off you. You were rude and bitchy to that girl and not once have you shown me that you feel guilty about it. Instead, you’re sat here defending yourself and complaining about her like a little brat, so I think this should teach you a lesson,’ he says simply, and I stare at him in shock.

‘You’re joking, right? I demand, anger flaring through me at the way his eyes sparkle with mirth. ‘No, I’m being serious, actually. You judged that girl based on how she looked – I’m sure if she was conventionally pretty, with flawless makeup, you’d have lent her your lipgloss without a second thought, and probably becomes best friends with her too. That girl might have been the nicest person you’d ever come across. But you wouldn’t know, because you were mean to her. Now, the shoe will be on the other foot. You’ve coasted through life getting what you want because you’re pretty, and now that you’ll look all wrinkly and saggy, we’ll see how you like being on the receiving end of people’s judgement,’ he says cheerfully, my mouth falling open more and more as he speaks.

‘Seungmin, I’m sorry for being a bitch. I really am, and I do regret it. But surely that slightly bitchy behaviour doesn’t warrant this. Me looking like an ancient pensioner! I’ve learnt my lesson. Please don’t do this,’ I say desperately, starting to actually worry that he might not lift the curse. ‘Hmm, I don’t know if you have learnt your lesson, y/n. It’s not like I can take your word for it, because if I didn’t know you any better, you’d have gotten away with telling me a twisted version of what really happened. You’re a compulsive liar. So, I apologise, but I won’t be lifting the curse,’ he says seriously, but his lips are quirked up at the corners, making me realise he’s actually amused by this situation.

‘Seungmin, this isn’t a joke! You cannot let this happen to me!’ I shriek, panic making my hands shake, and he raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Shouting won’t make me change my mind,’ he says dryly, the two of us staring at each other, very different emotions in our gazes, and he sighs a few moments later. ‘How about this? When you show a true act of selflessness and generosity without any kind of judgement, the curse will break,’ he says, taking my hands into his as he speaks, and when I register his words, I snatch them away angrily. ‘No! I don’t want any stupid conditions or things I have to do! Just take the fucking curse off me, Min!’ I scream, fury making my voice waver, and he just laughs.

‘You took your hands away too late – it’s done now. This will teach you your lesson,’ he grins, and I want to literally throw myself across the table and teach him a lesson instead. ‘Seungie, please,’ I pout, stooping lower than I ever thought I would, and he hesitates for a moment before shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘No, y/n. It’s done. Try not to judge someone based on their appearance for once, and you’ll be rewarded for it,’ he says mildly, and I just stare at him in disbelief for a few moments. ‘Are you doing this because I dumped you?’ I ask, unable to believe he simply wants to teach me a lesson, and he bursts out into laughter. ‘Flattering yourself a little there, aren’t you? No, y/n, that’s not why. Stop trying to find reasons to play this down. There are no other factors for this punishment other than your nasty behaviour.’ ‘Punishment? What are you, my dad? You don’t get to punish me!’ ‘I know you better than your dad does, better than anyone else does, and I know you’re better than this. I’m trying to help you.’ ‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it!’ I exclaim, silence falling between us.

‘If that’s all, y/n-’ ‘If that’s all? If that’s all?’ ‘Yes. If that’s all, you can leave. I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break, and then I’ve got another appointment. So you can go,’ he says with a small grin, effectively dismissing me like a parent sends a child to their room, and I let out an angry huff. ‘I can’t believe this. Some shitty doctor you are,’ I say childishly, bitter about this lesson he’s trying to teach me, and he just rolls his eyes amusedly. ‘My thousands of satisfied patients say otherwise. But that’s okay – you can’t please everyone. Especially not judgemental little brats,’ he grins, and I let out a shrill noise of rage, pushing myself up off the seat and grabbing my bag from the armchair.

‘And I’ll take this!’ I exclaim pettily, snatching the half-empty flask from the table, and he just laughs at me, making me feel even more murderous than I already do. ‘You’ll thank me eventually, y/n,’ he says gently, and I let out another angry huff. ‘I doubt it,’ I hiss, stomping towards the door and, just as I think I can’t be any more immature, I kick the shelves nearest me, watching as it wobbles and falls over to the side before stopping mid-air. ‘Really? How childish of you,’ Seungmin says amusedly, one hand outstretched in the direction of the shelves, his magic holding them up, and I let out an angry scream, sounding a lot like Regina George when she was putting herself in the Burn Book to get back at Cady. Is this really what I’ve become? How embarrassing,

‘I’ll see you at Jackson’s for Halloween,’ he calls out behind me as I reach the door. ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ I hiss venomously, ‘my brittle bones may have already given way by then. God knows if I’ll even be able to walk, thanks to you!’ ‘No, y/n, you only have yourself to blame for this,’ he says, as he shakes his head with a sad smile. ‘Oh, cut out all the philosophical teaching-moment shit,’ I spit, wrenching open the door. As I do so, one of my nails flies off my finger. Not just the fake nail my technician put on this morning. The entire nail.

I hold back a gag, hearing Seungmin stifling laughter behind me, and I look away from it, feeling quite sick. My eyes meet Seungmin’s, and he must take pity on me when he sees how they’re full of angry and helpless tears, and he waves a hand in my direction. When I look down at my hand again, the nail is back in place, good as new. I look back at him in surprise, and he looks a little embarrassed. ‘No more of your nails will fall out. But I’m not fixing anything else for you. Now go, before your stupid pretty face convinces me to lift the curse,’ he says, and I feel a little hope spark in my chest. ‘Seungie, p-’ ‘Nuh-uh. Get outta here. Now.’ ‘But S-‘ ‘y/n, I will call security!’

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justforbooks · 3 years

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Why do we read? The wealth of genres available suggests that some of us read for comfort, escapism, knowledge, or to improve ourselves. Whilst these are all perfectly valid reasons, it’s also worth thinking about reading about themes, perspectives, and societies that go beyond our own comfort zones.

During the Covid-19 pandemic, it has been estimated by the proofreading service, Global English Editing, that 35% of the people in the world have read more books than usual this year.

With normality disrupted, is it no wonder we have turned to books more? Books can give us all sorts of benefits, but when thinking about our reading habits during a pandemic, it is worth looking at this from a mental health perspective.

The Benefits of Reading — But Why It Should Also Challenge Us

Reading can force us to be mindful, take us away from the blaring digital world that we have become more reliant on, and force us into the present by talking one page at a time. “Bibliotherapy” is a relatively new form of reading therapy being used in clinics, libraries, and schools to promote recovery in people with mental health difficulties in some places in the world.

With these mental health benefits in mind, it is one explanation for why so many of us have taken to reading during the pandemic. But reading to improve our mental health can also be coupled with challenging and educating ourselves. Reading fiction is one of the best ways to do this. Not only are you benefiting from its natural escapism, but in many cases, fiction forces you to put yourself within the shoes of others.

A central theme with my reading habits in 2020 was choosing books that challenged me. In this respect — the books that follow have forced me to go beyond what’s comfortable — as I have learnt about different issues experienced by characters I wouldn’t necessarily encounter in my daily life.

Each has changed my perspective on a range of issues — highlighting why it’s important to read books that challenge us.

An American Marriage, Tayari Jones

Literary fiction

Celestial and Roy are a newlywed couple — for a brief moment — they indulge in the feeling of being married and the excitement of spending the rest of their lives together. Until one incident changes everything. Roy is wrongly accused of a crime he didn’t commit and is sent to jail for the rape of a woman.

“Much of life is timing and circumstance, I see that now.”

Whilst in jail, Roy desperately tries to keep his new marriage alive, whilst sending Celestial letters and hoping for a better future. But Celestial cannot continue to live her life waiting for theirs to start. In many ways, it is a story about relationships and love but heavily tainted by the blatant racism that lays at the heart of the American criminal justice system and how it has the power to alter lives.

Why Did it Challenge Me?

Reading this as a white woman, made me realise this situation would never happen to me. Reading from the point of view of Roy, a black man, wrongly convicted for a crime he didn’t commit purely on the grounds of his race and circumstance — was a learning experience for me.

I grew up in a considerably white town. Until fairly recently, I knew very little about racism and how it perpetuates the very systems that we typically view as ‘just.’ Therefore, reading about these types of experiences that I wouldn’t usually be exposed to in my life, was essential for me.

“Twelve years is what they gave him. We would be forty-three years old when he was released. I couldn’t even imagine myself at such an age. Roy understood that twelve years was an eternity because he sobbed right there on the defendants’ table. His knees gave way, and he fell into his chair, The judge paused and demanded that Roy bear this news on his feet. He stood again and cried, not like a baby, but in the way that only a grown man can cry, from the bottom of his feet through his torso and finally through his mouth…”

The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell

Political fiction

The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists was written during the early twentieth century and tells the story of a group of Edwardian workers. Owen, the outspoken socialist, makes it his mission to persuade and educate the rest of the group on the importance of a fairer society. He tries to make them realise the extent of their exploitation and how little it achieves — but he is always fighting an uphill battle.

In many ways, this book could be regarded as a socialist manifesto. But in others, it is far more than that. Through Owen, as readers, we learn that poverty is not about misconceptions such as laziness, but is more often than not, a political choice.

It’s rhetoric surrounding the workplace, and the unskilled versus the skilled worker highlights how we still undervalue certain people in society. Nurses and cleaners make up the groundwork of our society; however, they are still persistently underpaid. Throughout the novel, Owen makes a case for a redistribution of wealth, workplace rights and an overhaul of the capitalist system which in his eyes, is responsible for the vicious cycle of poverty they find themselves in.

“Every man who is not helping to bring about a better state of affairs for the future is helping to perpetuate the present misery and is, therefore, the enemy of his own children.”

Despite being written long ago, it contains an essential insight into the reality of working-class, Edwardian poverty, poor workplace conditions, and poverty workers' experience to keep themselves alive. Of course, it is inherently political, but it also teaches readers about human and societal values. Such as fairness, equality, and decency.

Why Did it Challenge Me?

Despite it being set during a very different time, it made me re-evaluate all the problems within our own society whether that’s the persistent gender pay gap, poor sick pay, or people not being eligible for financial help during the Covid crisis when they’ve had to stay at home during lockdowns.

Above all, the descriptive scenes of the workplace — most notably — one in which a young boy, Bert, who is told off for trying to light a fire to keep himself warm — made me realise how brutal and hard work manual labour jobs in the Edwardian period were — and how little rights they had.

Such A Fun Age

Fiction

Emira is a young black woman, living in Philidelphia and trying to find her feet. She works as a babysitter for a middle-class, white blogger who thinks she’s all clued up on race. Through the perspective of Emira, the novel deals with the casual forms of racism and microaggressions that many of us (particularly white people) may not usually notice in our day to day lives.

“Emira had met several “Mrs. Chamberlains” before. They were all rich and overly nice and particularly lovely to the people that served them. Emira knew that Mrs. Chamberlain wanted a friendship, but she also knew that Mrs. Chamberlain would never display the same efforts of kindness with her friends as she did with Emira: “accidentally” ordering two salads and offering one to Emira, or sending her home with a bag filled with frozen dinners and soups.”

Switching between Emira’s perspective, and Alix’s, the blogger, Such a Fun Age is a poignant, comical and revealing portrayal of the present world and the half-hearted ways in which white people commonly approach the subject of race. Alix thinks she is all clued up on what it’s like to be a black woman, as she has plenty of black friends, and after all, employs a young black woman.

Stephanie Hayes, writing in The Atlantic, sums her character up brilliantly in stating that the novel, “satirizes the white pursuit of wokeness.” Furthermore, this switching between two completely different characters means,

“Alix’s myopia isn’t lost on Emira. Writing from the younger woman’s point of view, Reid renders white people whose eagerness to shed their blinkers results in fumbling attempts to identify with black people — as much to burnish their own images as to genuinely connect with others.”

Why Did It Challenge Me?

It made me realise that some of the ways I used to approach talking about race — were wrong. By reading about Emria’s experience with her boss, Alix, I was exposed to the realities of casual racism. Something, as a white woman, I am have never experienced myself. This is obviously something I will never understand, but after reading this, I feel more aware and educated about it.

Reading this forced me into the perspective of Emira, a character living completely outside my own bubble. It opened my mind up to how the daily lives of others can be so different. Most of all, it forced me to stop and think.

Keep the Aspidistra Flying, George Orwell

Political fiction

This book encapsulates the dilemma that many young, recent graduates like myself, have to deal with. Do you strive to embark on a career that’s safe and stable, or pursue something you love, even if it takes longer and involves many more hurdles along the way? Gordon, the protagonist, has a safe job at an advertising firm; however, he gives this all up to work in a bookshop, for a slither of his previous salary.

After leaping into the unknown, he tries to stand against the capitalist society he feels he is forced into. Deliberately quitting a good job, and living below the poverty line, Gordon thinks he is making a robust, political stand. He tells the reader how he hates money and how this rampant need fuels every part of our society.

However, Gordon eventually realises the errors of his ways — as he learns his actions aren’t realistic because they aren’t encouraging a change to the system.

“The mistake you make, don’t you see, is in thinking one can live in a corrupt society without being corrupt oneself. After all, what do you achieve by refusing to make money? You’re trying to behave as though one could stand right outside our economic system. But one can’t. One’s got to change the system, or one changes nothing.”

Why Did It Challenge Me?

In this current job climate, it was a reminder that at the moment, no industry is ‘safe’ and that there is no such thing as a ‘proper’ job. Those jobs such as advertising, marketing, retail and hospitality — that we were always taught—were secure and ripped apart during the pandemic. It made me think about my own plans and perceptions of the job market.

Additionally, Gordon’s inherent dislike of money and the capitalist world reignited my desire for a more minimalist outlook and society. After all, money is never the route of all happiness.

Reading fiction is an enjoyable form of escapism, but it can also teach us a lot about other peoples’ lives, and challenge our own ideas and values. We can often become comfortable living in our own bubbles and reading the same books we have always turned to.

But reading fiction can help challenge our own comfort and promote a more diverse world view — when dealing with subjects such as race, society and culture. By reading fiction, we get to be inside the minds and live inside others' shoes we may never encounter in real life. Thus, it’s a form of stepping outside that comfort bubble, a form of social education, and a way of understanding people.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Why do we read?

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goldeneyedgirl · 3 years

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TwiFicMas Day 8: Forgotten

Happy Day 8! I have been travelling all day, and plotting Forbidden Fics, so on with the show!

Today’s fic is an untitled riff on the concept of Alice being found in the woods of Forks not only having forgotten her entire life, but still human - her last solid memories are running from James. It was very much meant to be an exploration of Alice and Jasper relearning each other, and falling in love again - though it got quite dark and depressing at one point - and looking at how far Alice has come from her human years. She is absolutely unclear of the year she’s in, and whilst she has some memories of the asylum, she is also unaware of just how damaged she was before she was changed. I hope that all makes sense.

Onwards!

What does she remember?

That is a loaded question. Matron asks her that every morning, as if she is a small child, whenever she can manage to talk. Her mind is gossamer thin, and tattered from shock therapy. She doesn’t remember much, but she does remember that her name is… her name is… Alice, yes.

The waking dreams she has are an illness, a terrible one, and she is mad.

Her dearest friend is Eli, the orderly. He was special, and a good man. He looks after her.

That’s what she remembers. The hunter. Eli taking her away from the asylum, wrapped in his itchy, old coat that smelt like smoke and grass. She was cold and tired and so frightened for Eli, because he is old and the hunt was strong… but he hid her away and went off to defeat the hunter.

This Alice is not their Alice, that is clear.

She is undeniably human, and so frail that Carlisle must resist the urge to check her immediately into the closest hospital. She speaks quietly, wringing her hands nervously. She doesn’t make eye-contact.

For Jasper, all he can think is that her eyes are blue. Blue-grey, really, a colour that nearly matches a scarf she bought back in the 50s. She has faint freckles over her nose.

The Cullens are very kind to me, whilst Eli has gone. Dr Cullen seems to think that Eli and I will be living with them for now on; that does make sense, I suppose, since Dr Cullen is a doctor, and I am still very ill. They had a very nice bedroom to give me, and clothing, so Eli must have written them. And Mrs Cullen was very nice when the dress she gave me was far too short and it upset me. The second one was much better, though it was black and I am sure made me look as pale as a ghost.

Mrs Cullen has cooked for me, as well – the smells are awful to a vampire, and the rest of them vanish whenever she disappears into the kitchen. She is always asking me what I like to eat, and she looked so sad when I told her I didn’t know, because the food at the asylum was so awful.

I keep away from the others, like Eli warned me. Though, Miss Rosalie was so lovely, I couldn’t believe she was real. I… I think I had a doll like her once. Her husband was a giant of a man who reminded me of the orderlies at the asylum, who seemed nice enough, but I wasn’t getting too close.

The redheaded boy seemed to like watching me a lot, but refrained from talking much. He seemed to have a lot of friends, though, as when he did speak, he was always talking about ‘Bella’ and ‘Jacob’ and ‘Seth’ and ‘Leah’.

The young blond man did not seem to be pleased I was in the house, leaving the room anytime I entered it, and when he was forced to be in my presence, he glowered at me, as if I were the most unwelcome creature in the universe.

Perhaps it should have upset me, but I am used to such glares.

Dr Cullen insisted that I spend a lot of time resting quietly in my room, though he allowed me to sit in the garden for a little while each day, and there was a never-ending supply of books, which was wonderful. I spend a lot of time attempting to pen letters to Eli, though my hands were still quite shaky, and my handwriting abysmal. My drawings moreso. I cried about it a little, when I was in my room, but I should be very grateful – my alternative to this lovely place was death.

My bedroom remained a mystery. Mrs Cullen assured me that it was mine, and I adored everything about it – the way the light filled the room every morning, to the dandelion lamp on the nightstand, to the bed with the silk headboard and piles of pillows. Mrs Cullen was always worried I was cold, bringing me as many pillows and blankets as I wished for.

But, I wondered if perhaps this room wasn’t intended for me. Mrs Cullen had filled the dresser with my clothing, and apologised, explaining the closet was used as storage, and I shouldn’t go through it until she had some time to clear it out. I had peeked, just once, and found it full of boxes and clothing. The clothing! I had never seen so many dresses! Most of them had been terribly short, but there had been every colour and fabric. I couldn’t imagine leaving behind so many beautiful things.

There were spaces in the bookcase as well, as if several editions had been pulled out in a hurry.

And I had found a necklace that had been left on the window sill, behind the curtain – a thin silver chain, with a glass teardrop on the end. It was lovely, and clearly beloved – the initials had been rubbed off the clasp, as had the engraving around the setting.

I had simply left it on the dresser and never asked, even when it vanished without mention.

It wasn’t the only mystery. I had noticed that I was kept out of many of the rooms of the house – my meals were served to me on trays or in the dining room. I was allowed in the garden or in my room.

But who am I to criticise their hospitality? Perhaps they keep things in this house that are not fit for human eyes.

Today, a man arrived. A policeman, though his uniform was quite odd. He looked quite stern, and when Mrs Cullen went to greet him, I disappeared back to the dining room to finish my breakfast.

Mrs Cullen is determined to discover my ‘favourite’ foods at every meal; I don’t have the heart to tell her after the ‘soups’ and ‘porridges’ of the hospital, every food is my favourite. Today, it is eggs that are like little yellow clouds.

“Alice!” the policeman sees me there and he smiles, but looks confused for a moment.

My glass of orange juice slips from my fingers and all I can think is that he is looking for me, the hospital has searched for me and they will drag me back to that dark, dim little cell, and I’ll be without Eli this time.

I know I am crying and screaming, though it sounds quite feeble to my own ears, and Mrs Cullen is trying to calm me, and the policeman looks bewildered, and the redheaded boy – Edward – is there and trying to fix everything.

“She thinks Charlie is going to take her back,” he keeps saying. “Get Jasper down here to calm her down.”

I must look a fright, my hair has fallen around my face, and there is orange juice spilt all over my dress and Mrs Cullen’s floor and there is glass everywhere.

“Carlisle left some sedatives,” Miss Rosalie says finally, looking rather stunned. Everyone looks rather pained but finally Edward nods.

And then I am calm.

I slump to the floor, my arms wrapped around myself. I am still frightened, my heart pounding, but I am calm.

“Charlie is a friend,” Mrs Cullen is telling me soothingly, smoothing my hair from my face. “No one is going to take you anywhere you don’t want to go, we promise.”

The calm fades into grief, and I fling my arms around her neck and sob like a child and beg for someone to fetch Eli for me.

They sit me down in the lounge room, all of them watching me. Esme has an album in her lap, and looks so kind and worried. I keep checking my hair, to make sure it hasn’t come loose. It’s not really long enough to pin up well, and Miss Rosalie never pins hers up, but it feels right.

And then Dr Cullen speaks. His voice is gentle and sad and it takes a while for me to understand the words he is saying.

Eli is, most certainly, dead.

But so is the hunter, and his vile companions.

I don’t make a sound, but suddenly my cheeks are wet, and I am crying. Esme pulls me into her arms and rocks me.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m sure he was a good man,” she murmurs against my head, and ice and fire rip through my veins and Edward hisses at Esme and I pull away, my heart pounding.

I’m sure he was a good man.

“What did he look like?” I demand from Dr Cullen, my voice hard but still shaking. “What did Eli look like?”

Dr Cullen looks startled and Esme is realising her mistake and I am realising that no one here has ever met Eli before. That I was never entrusted to these vampires by him.

Edward is just shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, Alice, but I never met Eli in person,” Dr Cullen says.

I let out a little moan, and wonder what comes next. A runaway girl in a borrowed dress.

Truly, how many times in my life shall I be left with nothing?

Perhaps I should have left the hunter to his meal and his pleasure. If I had known then what I do now, I would have.

My face is wet, and the collar of my sweater is sodden when I look up and spy a pair of shoes under the little console table in the entrance. They are small, small enough for me, and black, with a shiny gold toe. Worn, too, and I wonder whose they are. I wonder if that is why they took me in, to replace the ghost girl who left behind my bedroom and a closet full of clothing.

The family clearly doesn’t realise what I’m doing as I move towards the shoes. I am wearing good quality clothing – thick stockings and a grey dress with a black sweater – and now I have shoes. They cannot stop me leaving.

Well, they can. But I will fight until I am dead. I am tired of being a pawn.

Edward groans as I step into the shoes – a perfect fit, as if they were mine all along – and there is the fuzzy muttering I can never understand, and I wish they hung their coats by the door, but there is nothing for it.

Before I can open the front door, there is an iron-bar of an arm around my middle, and I look down and then up in shock, as Jasper bodily drags me away from my freedom.

“Let me go!” I squeal, trying to wriggle free. I am small enough that I could usually get out of Eli’s grasp; he would laugh and tell me I was like a cat, or a goldfish, too hard to catch. But this man, who has treated me with nothing but disdain, has compensated for my size, and I am trapped in his grasp.

“Stop it!” I shriek, and I try kicking and hitting, but it does nothing except bruise my poor limbs. Miss Rosalie’s husband is truly laughing at me, and I’m sure I look quite a sight, my eyes and face all red and wet, fighting against this ridiculous behemoth of a man. Eli was not so tall as the Cullen men, and it is most unhelpful.

“Please, let me go!” I beg, but my voice is cracking, slightly hysterical, as they discuss me. As if I am a naughty child instead of the girl they have lied to.

“You’re hurting me,” I finally offer, rather pitifully. That one always worked with Eli, and it works quite well now. The man nearly drops me, and stares at me in horror – a look that makes me feel terribly guilty, though my back does ache from being held in such a way.

“Jasper,” Edward is looking at him; he has the saddest, most heartbroken look on his face I have ever seen, and I feel awful. “It’s okay, she’s fine.”

Jasper shakes his head and turns; a second later, the door slams.

“He gets to leave,” I say grumpily, and Dr Cullen and Mrs Cullen just look stunned at what has transpired.

Within seconds, a plan is formed. Dr Cullen, Edward and Miss Rosalie’s husband go after Jasper, whom I have caused great distress to, apparently. Miss Rosalie and Mrs Cullen whisk me back upstairs, where I am brought a cup of tea, and ignore my questions about Eli, a sinking feeling in my stomach until my vision swims and I realise they have played the same terrible trick my mother used on me when the orderlies came to take me away. I tip sideways on the window seat and Mrs Cullen carries me easily to bed, and oh, I hate them all. I cannot cry or co-ordinate my arms to move or speak.

But I have learned a valuable lesson. They will be kind and take care of me, but I have no power nor choice. And if I strike out at them, I will be punished. A tiny, hysterical part of my brain is amused that their weapon of choice is pills crushed in tea when they could break me into tiny pieces, but I will be quite carefully about accepting food and drink now on.

The Cullens are not to be trusted.

The tea was brewed strong, because I sleep through the afternoon and night. When I wake, there is light slipping through the windows. Normally, I would attempt to wash and clothe myself before Mrs Cullen comes in, but today, I do not. I attend to my needs in the bathroom, and drink water in my cupped hands rather than risk whatever is mixed in with the glass on my nightstand.

And then I return to bed. It seems that is where they prefer me to be, so that is where I shall stay.

It is quite late, mid-morning, when Mrs Cullen ventures in with a tentative smile and a tray, and then a concerned look when I do no sit up nor greet her, still clad in yesterday’s dress. I do not respond to her greetings, and I feel like a dying animal when she finally leaves to fetch Dr Cullen.

Having the doctor in my bedroom makes me feel quite unclean, brings shadowy horrors from the asylum to the front of my mind that I try to push away as he checks my temperature and talks to me.

“Grief, especially for a beloved friend, can be overwhelming,” he says finally, smoothing my hair in a way that makes me shudder and pull away from him. “You should eat, to keep up your strength, Alice. But rest is a great healer.”

He and Mrs Cullen leave, though a plate of toast and a glass of juice is left on my nightstand, and I wonder how many pills they have crushed into the mix. I wait forty minutes before I deposit the toast and juice down the toilet – they shall never guess that I didn’t consume it myself.

I am right, of course. Mrs Cullen’s smile brightens when she sees the empty dishes. I have been good and obedient and all is well, in the Cullens’ eyes.

They might think that they can control me and win whatever terrible game this is, but I grew up in a hellish place, learnt cruelty and sneakiness from the very best at it. No matter what they think they can do to me, I’ve survived worse. And I will survive them, too.

It has been almost a week since the terrible altercation, and they all suspect me. I refuse to leave my room, content to take my meals up there and read. The food is discarded via the bathroom, and I drink only from the tap. My bones are returning to the surface. Hunger is an old bedmate, one I’ve known since I was a girl, and I barely notice it anymore.

The brunette girl looks quite rough, in her trousers and shapeless sweater. She looked quite sour, too, as we sat in the dining room.

There is little chatter as she presents the food she brought with her. Apparently, the popular opinion is that I am so grief-stricken that Mrs Cullen’s food no longer tempts me, and that this strange girl can provide something that I will eat.

The sandwich is wrapped up in paper, with stickers to keep it sealed – it gives me slightly more confidence that the food has not been tampered with, though my body is well trained in going without food, and I am full after only picking at it for a little while.

The girl – Isabella, daughter of the Policeman Charlie – doesn’t talk much, and when she does, every second word is Edward’s name. It’s strange; I’m faintly reminded of my cousins fretting over boys, a hazy memory of a conversation I had no interest in, and wondered if they ever read a book.

Since I ate, the meal is declared a success, and Isabella is encouraged to return any time - with more food, and I wonder how many conversations about Edward I shall have to sit through.

I rather shocked the family, today. Dr Cullen weighed me in my nightdress, and found out that I had lost another two pounds. All that good work, undone. Mrs Cullen had looked terribly sad, and Miss Rosalie had scowled.

“If you don’t start eating, we’ll take you to the hospital and they’ll force you to eat,” she practically growls at me, and I wish I could laugh in her face.

“They attach a feeding tube to your mouth, and they will tie you down,” Miss Rosalie keeps speaking. I tilt my head to the side and think of the asylum, of everything I have lived through in eight years. Nothing Miss Rosalie can tell me will scare me.

“Please, Alice, is there anything you would like to eat?” Mrs Cullen is nearly begging me. I shake my head.

“Perhaps it is time to involve professionals,” Dr Cullen says in a sad voice, and there is a loud bang from upstairs that makes me jump.

“That would be a no,” Miss Rosalie’s husband says wryly.

I don’t know why, but I walk into the kitchen the next morning, and when Mrs Cullen offers to make me breakfast, I agree.

I agree to eat at least half and then sit in the garden with her.

I even agree to a cup of tea, though my hands shake something terribly when I drink it – why am I drinking it? – and I nearly drop the cup.

Mrs Cullen watches me with a tired look on her face, and smoothes my hair from my face as she takes the empty tea cup. I sit in the garden and wonder if I could vomit it all up - it sits uneasily in my stomach, as if it knew how unwilling I was to consume it. I wait for the effect, to feel sleepy or twitchy or dizzy or something.

Jasper is watching me from the doorway, with a flat look on his face. I haven’t seen him since the argument, and he doesn’t look particularly pleased to lay eyes on me, but when he sees me watching him, he moves towards Mrs Cullen’s empty seat and folds himself into it.

“I,” he begins, looking down, “I understand you’ve suffered a great loss and feel like we’ve betrayed you. And I never, ever would have allowed them to lace your tea with sedatives, had I been in the house. I’m sorry I left. But you are safe here. We want to protect you and help you. And I will explain more when you’re well again, I promise. But you must stop trying to harm yourself, Alice. You must eat. I can only stop them from sending you to hospital for so long, and I…”

I blinked at him curiously. He had stopped them? More than once? He had some sort of authority over them - over me?

“I don’t understand,” I manage.

“I know, and we’ll start explaining things soon, but for now, I need you to trust us. Eat, drink, speak with us. I will watch over all the food that is prepared, if that makes you feel better. But I cannot watch you hurt yourself like this, and I cannot leave you. I just…” He looked so sad as his gaze met mine. And something about that gaze, something about the softness of his words made me trust him. He wouldn’t have drugged the tea, wouldn’t have allowed Mrs Cullen or Miss Rosalie to do so either. He never would have hurt me or lied to me. Whomever Jasper was in this family, and to me, he was neither unkind nor cruel.

“Okay, I’ll try,” I said in a soft voice. “As long as you tell me the truth.”

#twificmas20 #ficmas20 #jalice #alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight fic #twilight renaissance #my fic #my fic: what does she remember

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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A/W 2020 Fashion Month: Before Vogue Went Blank

Hi to anyone reading,

I’m sorry this post is so late! I really have no excuse apart from all my mental energy being taken up by shooting and editing my Euphoria lookbook up until now and me being too much of a lazy, nap-loving twat to face the mammoth task of a fashion month review; honestly, by the time it’s done, it’s like a dissertation-level amount of characters, so let’s say the final push to get this out is in sympathy with all my 3rd year friends I started uni with finishing their ACTUAL dissertations.

Things have got scary since I originally started saving the photos for this post, and the world has been turned upside down. In response to the COVID-19 pandemic, the likes of which have not been seen since the Spanish Flu, Italian Vogue’s April cover was blank. As I’m writing this, 26,000+ people have died of coronavirus in Italy, the worst affected country behind the U.S in terms of sheer numbers ( though quick update: as I post this, I’m pretty sure our incompetent prick of a PM has made sure we’re up there too). Proportionally, the actual death rate is even higher, along with a handful of other European countries. There have been some complaints made about the cover and it’s supposed “lack of imagination”; all I know is that in a country whose death toll accounts for 10% of worldwide coronavirus deaths, something of a visual silence feels appropriate.

That being said, for me, writing is one of the only things giving me a sense of purpose right now. Yeah, surprise surprise, working in a grocery store isn’t all that fulfilling. Who would’ve thought it? So what better time to reflect on a time when all the rich people of the world were going about their lives as usual and sitting front row at fashion week rather than crying on Instagram live to their millions of followers about how trapped they feel in their 10 bedroom mansions.

I’ve got to say, this year’s A/W offerings were a lot better than I expected, mostly due to the fact that I’m not generally a big fan of winter fashion; it’s hard to be disappointed given my preconceptions! There’s only so many knits and coats and jeans you can see before it begins to get a bit tiring, and I expected that to be reflected in the presentations. Fortunately, even the brands which are known for their bohemian, Coachella-esque collections generally managed to translate that into something recognisable and consistent on the runway whilst actually being weather appropriate. Of course, there were a few disappointments-I’m sure if I say one of them begins with D, you can guess which brand I’m talking about-but that was more than made up for by the standouts. Gucci in particular was my 2013 Tumblr wet dream and the Moschino show was what I can only describe as a live continuation of Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette, though I’ll stop with my praise there and wait til I get to actually reviewing before I go overboard with kissing Alessandro Michele’s ass. And on that note, in chronological order, I’ll get one with the reviews! First up, Acne:

Continuing on a winning streak when it comes to catering to my personal preferences (if someone tries to tell me designers don’t care about my personal preferences I’m going to whack out that “just found out the world doesn’t revolve around me, shocked and upset” Marina Diamandis tweet), Acne once again channels futuristic hippy commune living in a dystopian wasteland. I know, those are very specific personal preferences

I love the shredded hems and the burnt velvet, the rawness of it all, and the baroque/your-nan’s-wallpaper patterns are actually a surprisingly nice touch. I imagine if Giselle from Enchanted had to make her dresses out of a thrifty goth’s curtains rather than an upper-middle-class New Yorker’s, they’d look something like this collection. You’ve even got the odd bit of classic fresh Scandi tailoring in there with the oversized coats and blazers which holds it back from being a bit TOO flea market. Plus, the renaissance painting detailing on the black leather-look coat is a stunning detail as well; I’m so glad it seems this trend is here to stay, why wouldn’t I want random nude bodies all over my clothes?

As for the styling, I can’t get enough of the tousled hair. As an eternally tired person who can't be arsed to pick up a brush most of the time, I feel represented. Along with the outfits, it says “I’m an art student/transient painter in the 70s living in a city loft who smokes a lot of weed and does acid on the regular” and that is a life worth manifesting.

Alberta Ferretti was dreamy, and a perfect example of how to translate the bohemian aesthetic of their S/S show to A/W. Somehow despite the furs, ruffles (pussy-bows under tailored jackets and knits/generally heavier pieces always looks really chic imo), tulle, metallic tapestry style prints and chunky jewellery, it all still looks very effortless, like a natural continuation of what we saw last summer; the typically masculine structure of the oversized suits with the ornate patterns and the accessories lends to the careful navigation along the line where maximalism and minimalism meet, the looks as practical as they are decorative. Picture it: you work some high-flying, powerful job in the city, commute on a motor cycle and roll up in one of these suit sets. This collection is for the edgy businesswoman who is completely comfortable telling all the twattish males she works with where to stick it and I want to be her.

The evening gowns are, of course, stunning too. In this analogy where I am a powerful businesswoman and not a pushover who works at a grocery store right now and only beefs with rude customers, I would be wearing one of them to the boujie work Christmas party. The ruffled dresses remind me of something Valentino would put out with the colour palette and the ruffles, and whilst we’re on the topic of colour palettes, this one is beautiful. The lilac and hot pink is SO right.

Though predictable, Alessandra Rich is just as much of a treat as usual, the first brand you’d go to if you were styling a throwback it-girl, Chanel Oberlin in Scream Queens if it took place 30 years earlier. Reminiscent of an amalgamation of vintage Chanel and Versace, there are so many cute details I love here, from the white tights with the black heels and the double breasted blazers to the gold chainlink belts and the pearls. The tartan suits with the shoulder padding are very Heathers, the prints the best of your mum’s 80s wardrobe, and nobody else out there is doing bows as well as this; these are the outfits that prissy bitch wears in the cartoons of my childhood that turn out to actually be quite good fashion inspo 15 years later, Trixie Tang from Fairly Odd Parents I’m looking at you.

This girl was the blueprint.

I think someone like Lilly Collins or Daphne Groeneveld would be an ideal fit for any of these looks, or Lana Del Rey if she wanted to stop serving us middle-aged suburban soccer mom and took us back to those H&M ad campaign days. Lana stans please don’t come for me for saying that, I am one of you; I say this because I love her. It’s all altruistic.

Whilst I admittedly didn’t love it as much as last summer’s, I really enjoyed the Alexander McQueen collection too, plus I had a better idea of what to expect this time round; no, we’re not gonna get a repeat of the Plato’s Atlantis show but we do always get some beautiful pieces. Again, like with Alberta Ferretti, this seems like a natural continuation of what we saw in the summer, just with adjustments made for the colder, darker, and altogether moodier months. A/W being the gothier older sister of S/S, it seems right that a lot of the looks turn their back on the ethereal, almost fairy-like feel of what we saw before and embrace the vampier side, reds and blacks (the ultimate Bratz Rock Angels colour combination), plenty of dramatic structures and formidable suit sets. It’s punk but it’s classy, and even with the lighter pieces, we’ve got the grunge inspired harnesses on top to contrast with the elegance and effectively, toughen the whole look up, something Gucci does well too.

The patterned suits with the clunky boots in particular are very cool and I need a gun metal grey heart detailing harness, but undoubtedly the MOMENT of this collection is Adut Akech in what appears to be a silver chainmail dress. She looks like an Amazonian goddess, and whilst I could never dream of pulling something like that off myself, I could happily admire her in it for hours.

There wasn’t much to get excited about at Altuzarra. The collection was very elegant for sure and the feathered belts are cute but it was all quite pedestrian and nothing new-the only detail I really like is the cut out on the second dress from the left, 3rd row down.

As for Anna Sui:

I’m not altogether sure why I wanted to review it. A lot of the outfits as a whole are a bit messy, and not in that avant-garde, expensive-looking Margiela kind of way, just in a “how many fabrics can we possibly get on this model” kind of way. Plus, the styling seems weirdly outdated-a lot of the jewellery looks like the kind of thing you’d see if you searched “gothic choker” on Ebay and ordered the results from low to high, and the makeup and hair in particular is very 2012 Tumblr fashion blogger. Backcombed hair and red lipstick? We’ve got a Zoella thumbnail on our hands.

When the collection did go down the bohemian route though (and when that route wasn’t a failed attempt at what Etro does a lot better), there were a few nice pieces and prints. I mean you really can’t go wrong with a teal fur trimmed coat.

Ashish, on the other hand, took their aesthetic from a similar era and did it a lot more creatively and kookily; this collection looks a lot more deserving of being on a runway. The prints are so loud and costume-y that at times the garments risk looking like something you’d wear at a decades themed dress up party, but they’re saved by understated and much more commercial silhouettes, plus some gorgeous hair and make up. On the whole, very groovy, unintentional disco queen, despite the few risks that didn’t quite pay off.

Next is a brand I always look forward to. In the words of Myrtle Snow:

BALENCIAGA!

Seriously though, if any brand knows how to blend costume and high fashion, it’s them. They take over-the-top, almost absurd silhouettes and turn them into theatre. This year we’re taking it in the direction of Phantom of the Opera, I guess? Dracula? The Woman in Black? An off-broadway production of Harry Potter where Snape is the protagonist? Whatever the direction of the collection is, I live for the dramatics of it all. Demna Gvasalia got these models walkin’ down the runway like they’re members of the Volutri, which is a reference you should all understand given the renaissance Twilight is having online atm.

Straight off the bat, I adore the staging, and all the models are exquisite-the theme of the show was climate change, and I always love when there’s a story behind the presentation of the clothes. I can’t imagine how amazing this must have been to witness in person, though I’m guessing equal parts mystical and intimidating. There are so many things I love here: billowing coats, cinched in waists, the pattens that are sprinkled sparingly in amongst the black, and the bloody shoulder pads that almost run PARALLEL to the model’s necks. This is really a collection that Myrtle Snow would be proud of and brb whilst I get rid of my padlock necklaces in favour of putting whatever meagre amount I can get for them on Depop towards a Balenciaga padlock belt (as if, lol, I don’t even think selling my soul would cover it).

And then there’s Balmain, which isn’t always the fashion critic’s favourite, but which I do tend to like.

I mean there are some really good takeaways here-though the 80s inspired suit, as wearable as they are, can get a little repetitive, they are staples which here seem to pave the way for Olivier Rousteing to try something new for the brand. The moulded breast plates (reminiscent of the Tom Ford one Zendaya wore though I’m not sure which came first!), for example, along with the Matador-style capes and the flowing silk dresses are the most glamorous incarnation of Lara Croft one can possibly imagine, probably just as equally suited for a Roman goddess as they are for an Assassins Creed style action heroine. And yes, I am aware of the fact that Tomb Raider and Assassins Creed are two separate games, okay! I just don’t know enough about the visuals of either to firmly plant this collection in the camp of either one, so I’m going down the crossover route with it!

Not to say there weren’t any bad choices-I omitted a good portion of the looks that were shown; there were definitely pieces that I found to be a little tacky, particularly a recurring chain print which has got to be one of my least favourite patterns out there. Overall, though, it’s gonna be the richly coloured art-deco prints, the wet-look boots and the gem-encrusted scorpion brooch which stick with me, so I’ll let it slide.

Bottega Veneta was very meh; even of the looks I picked out, there are a lot I’m now looking back at and wishing I hadn’t included. Some of the men’s pieces are nice, sure, and I feel like one of those vaguely sick, victorian ghost looking male celebrities everyone obsesses over (Timothée Chalamet and Dane DeHaan I’m looking at you) would make those suits on the second row look fine af, but it’s mostly the womenswear that I’m here for and on this occasion it wasn’t great. A couple of the coats are nice and that’s about it. Like I really had to act as if the tassels weren’t there on a lot of the clothes and go from there because I really don’t like them in this context and if I was to veto looks purely on one of the garments having tassels, there’d be nothing to show or reference when giving my opinion on the show. They were EVERYWHERE. In a summer collection, done right, they can be a nice detail but here they just feel unnecessary and if I’m being honest, are quite ugly.

Thank god for Brock taking the sour Bottega Veneta tassel taste out of my mouth. Never a let down. Literally, everything they put out sends me into a daze of imagining I’m in some romantic drama wearing one of the pieces, in a man’s idea of “no makeup”, running round in a field looking forlorn and windswept because my ghostly lover has-

Okay, you get the picture. I’ve never read Wuthering Heights, but it goes something like that, right? If not, lets just say envisioning myself in any of these catapults me straight into some period drama where I’m born into wealth and sit by my mansion window looking sad all the time and writing poetry and lusting over some stuffy upper-class man I can’t have and who is probably played by Colin Firth because I’m pretty sure that’s what happens in most of them (about to enrage my future English lit undergraduate sister with that line).

Nobody does modest, muted sexy to such a masterful degree. I mean, when Maison Marigela did face veils I was just mildly afraid, but here they’re subtle enough that they’re quite beautiful and almost other-worldly, acting as some kind of boundary between this world and the past that Brock aims to recapture through its designs-the red lip popping out from underneath is a perfect touch too. I don’t like it AS much as the summer collection but I would say that’s solely on the basis of the more autumn/winter appropriate colour scheme and the heavier fits, which is just a personal preference. I mean, I’m usually not a fan of empire waistlines at all and Brock even manages to make that work.

Burberry this season was a real mixed bag, mostly due to the styling. There are some really gorgeous, London back alley vintage shop looking pieces, especially the 70s style coats, reminiscent of outerwear a slimy record exec would've worn back in the day repurposed by someone like Alexa Chung or Zoe Kravitz or whichever effortlessly cool woman it is we all want to be-also the private boy’s school rugby gear looking shit is classic Burberry and I’m a fan of that, even though it’s not the most inventive or exciting. I just don’t get why there had to be SO much ill-fitting plaid over ill-fitting plaid. Again, like with Bottega Veneta, I thought the menswear was a lot stronger; whilst I wasn’t really wowed by anything, it seemed a lot less forced, whereas a few of the womenswear looks gave me the vibe of a design team desperately grasping onto some ill-conceived ideas of street style and relevancy.

The design team at Carolina Herrera for example, know their niche. They never try to be something they’re not, always sublimely preppy and pretty and predictable-when it comes to target market, the bag is reliably secured. Laid- back princess dresses never get old for those constantly “summering” in one expensive coastal town or another, for the rich American moms attending charity galas and the Spencer Hastings and Blair Waldorfs of the world; women with glossy hair and fresh faces who act as if they woke up looking like that polished but are actually anal as hell and take 2 hours to get ready and would NEVER, I repeat NEVER, shit in a public toilet.

Yes, I managed to worm toilet habits into a review of a Carolina Herrera collection. I’m sorry. Enough with the pearl clutching.

Next is Celine:

I mean, when there are THIS many looks, it’s hard not to find something you like, and though VERY predictable and verging on lazy when you’re putting out the same shit every collection, Celine’s aesthetic is so similar to my own ideal style, it’s hard to be mad at it. That being said, a lot of the pieces, as per usual, came across as cheap YSL knock offs; the overall outfits are cute, but the more you look at the details-it particularly pained me to include a metal bow belt and an ill-fitting velvet skater skirt but I liked the rest of the outfits-the worse it gets. Please, PLEASE someone drive it home to Hedi Slimane, I’m begging you: QUALITY NOT QUANTITY. I get what he’s going for, 70s hipster Jane Birkin is a vision I can very much get behind, but not when it seems to be so rushed.

With the men’s looks, you can get away with it a lot more; when so much of menswear is so plain and unchanging, the slightest hint of Mick Jagger is enough to make a outfit edgy. But even then, I still feel like we’re seeing a load of variations of the same outfit. There are always some pieces that catch my eye, this time round the capes and the velvet blazers, and I would wear most of these things, sure, however I don’t think the combinations SHOULD necessarily look like something I’d personally put together; a runway collection is supposed to be aspirational and cutting edge, not pedestrian (entirely intentional self-drag, lol). Also, side note, the lack of diversity really bothered me. 111 looks and not one of these models has a body type that is naturally achievable for most people. It’s 2020 for fuck’s sake. I’m tired.

SO, let’s liven things up a bit with the Central Saint Martins collection, a breath of fresh air in terms of diversity (though a few more plus-size models would be nice):

As a former University of London student, I hate to heap praise upon them. If you’ve studied in London as well, you’ll know CSM students are ANNOYING. I mean, I’m sure they’re lovely as individuals but you can’t fully understand the meaning of the word pretentious until you’ve seen a group of them at a Uniqlo Tate Late. That being said, they are very good at what they do and I’m so glad that Vogue Runway includes them; this is what Off-White thinks it is, and really it makes sense that a bunch of current fashion students are able to come together to present one of the most experimental and forward-thinking shows of this season.

And let’s talk about the RANGE. From catsuits worthy of comic book heroes to dresses Twiggy would’ve worn in a 1960s editorial, every subgenre of fashion has been fully delved into here. Whilst we’ve got the adrogyny of the suits and suspenders combo and kitschy gender-bending co-ords David Bowie would be proud of, at the other end of the scale we’ve also got models walking down the runway dressed like wood nymphs or some other kind of siren-like creatures. There’s looks that wouldn’t be out of place in a Gucci or Come Des Garcons collection but at that same time would be equally at home in a Berlin techno club.

Honestly, credit where credit’s due-it was a really interesting show and I wouldn’t expect anything less.

Chanel was quite literally the polar opposite of the CSM show.

Very blah.

It’s crazy because before you properly get INTO fashion, Chanel is like the epitome of style. And then you do, and you see the runway shows get lazier and lazier (with some exceptions) every year, and you realise that same prestige that had you aware of Chanel at the age of 7 or 8 is literally all that’s keeping the brand going at this point. I’m not saying the collection is flat out ugly, a lot of it’s cute, but you’re CHANEL for fuck’s sake. Yeah, I like the crucifixes but SCALLOPED HEMS!? No. I do NOT recall travelling back in time to witness Primark’s Spring 2013 collection on the runway and I am NOT having it.

It’s not at all surprising that a lot of the time newer brands Charlotte Knowles (above) tend to be more interesting than those more established-and yes that was a Chanel indirect if the transition wasn’t obvious.

With no room to rest on laurels or reputation, everything has to be bolder and smarter and more distinctive and most importantly, has to appeal to its target market with the fervour of an L.A sign spinner. I only found out about Charlotte Knowles because of a Vogue article citing her as Bella Hadid’s new favourite brand to wear, and once I saw the collection, it was clear why; daringly modern, slick, and edgy is both her street style (say what you want about her as a model but her outfit game is unbeaten) and Knowles’ USP to a T. If Dion Lee, Off-White, GCDS and Acne had an orgy, this would be the result, and that is a GOOD compliment.

Next, Chloe:

Not a huge amount to say, to be honest. Low-key, wearable, and cute. Like Emma Roberts’ Nancy Drew if she did an autumn exchange program at the Sorbonne and studied art history, libraries and coffee shops on the weekdays and galleries and protests at the weekend. On reflection, that definitely makes this collection sound more exciting than it is but there are some effortlessly beautiful pieces here. The 4th row in particular is full of stand outs-the vest with the watercolour faces on with the shirt underneath is perfection, and the burgundy suit with the saffron ruffled collar peeking out from underneath is adorable and not at all reminiscent of the Ronald McDonald inspired nightmare that any combination of red and yellow tones should theoretically be.

As for Christian Siriano, I see why people hate it, I really do. I understand that it seems kinda unfair to have it show the same week as Brock and Rodarte and Oscar de La Renta. We’re talking 2 very different kinds of quality here. BUT, at pure face value, his clothes are FUN, plus Coco Rocha will always have a special place in my heart as someone who lived on The Face and America’s Next Top Model and every show that could possibly give me an unhealthy body image ever.

Like are you telling me you wouldn’t wear these dresses to a party!? Live a little. They just need tailoring...which ideally would be done BEFORE the model’s walking down the runway in it but...you know...can’t have it all.

Christopher Kane is a show I always look forward to.

I would say his designs are the only thing that make geometry look fun but I’m going to expose myself and admit that would be a lie because I actually found geometry really fun. Trigonometry was my shit, lol.

He is a designer who perfectly demonstrates that juggling interseasonal consistency and taking risks can be done. There’s always something DIFFERENT about his collections, fresh and subtly experimental. There are occasionally a few misses, sure, but I’d rather that than for a brand to keep playing safe, plus he never goes too far in the opposite direction either; no going weird for the sake of weird. I don’t like it AS much as the summer collection but it’s mostly because of the more muted, autumn/winter appropriate colour palette.

Comme Des Garçons? Too weird?

Never.

Honestly when it comes to a CDG collection, I have to really shift my perspective to appreciate it. I’m not looking at fashion presentation, I’m looking at a moving piece of experimental art. I know, it’s a stretch. But you know you’ll never be bored by one of their shows. Not gonna lie, this specific collection crossed the line into plain ugly a couple of times for me. We had padding so extravagant it looked like several models were walking round with Ikea pillows stuck to their chest and headdresses reminiscent of the kids’ game Headbandz. In amongst that though, we did get some gorgeous veils like the ones seen above and the shoes and socks combo is actually quite wearable.

I’d say Dilara Findikoglu is the cut-off point after which things get a little too avant-garde for my personal taste, and it hovers over that cut-off point flawlessly; despite the other-worldly elements of her collections, they remain somewhat grounded by nods towards conventional fashion that allow the beauty, be it inner or outer, of the wearer to shine through. Comme Des Garcons garments undeniably have character but they tend to swallow up any trace of the individual underneath, whereas the character of Dilara Findikoglu garments seamlessly merges with the wearer and in turn elevates both to something transcendent and ethereal. If the Pussycat Dolls got transported into a rugged, post-apocalyptic future, they’d scrape together these outfits to perform in, I know it; the energy of the collection, with the body jewellery and the frayed cut outs and the chalk white faces, is very warrior princess, just as raw and intimidating as it is hot as fuck, and I want that energy in my life. Along with a Dilara belt, of course. I would wear her name like a badge of honour anytime she wants. Dilara, pls pls let me be part of your tribe. PLEASE.

Anyway, this is where I thought I’d cut things off, so as to end on a positive note. You know what that means: Dior is coming up. I feel bad knowing my first post was defending Maria Grazia and yet here I am now, looking at the bar down on the floor, but I mean, you never know; maybe girl is doing this on purpose and one day she’s gonna come out with a Gucci level quality show like a phoenix from the ashes.

If you got this far, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING even if you’re just here for the pics. Part 2 will be covering some of my most anticipated shows from Elie Saab, Fendi and Etro to Gucci and Moschino, Miu Miu and Marc Jacobs, and everything in between. Yes, the shitty ones too.

I’m plowing through all the material as quick as I can so I hope to get the next post up really soon, and yes-you can count on the overwhelming sense of needing to be productive pushing me into fulfilling that statement.

Thanks again and I hope you’re well!

Lauren x

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Quarantine.7

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader Friends2Lovers But as slow as you can go until the anticipation kills us all… Genres: friendship, drama, romance SLOWEST OF BURNS BUT IT WILL BE BURNING AN ETERNAL FLAME!!! Rating: PG-13 and above Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 2.7k Announcement: Sorry that I posted this late the reason why is I had this complete at 8:30pm but my google doc decided to take my edited version and my unedited version and layer them on top of each other so naturally, I wanted to knock myself out with a hammer. After a long shower, I painstakingly worked on it as even the google docs history hadn’t saved the edited version.

[Part 1] [Part 6] [Part 8] [Tag Yourself Here]

You had a major major breakdown. Why did it hurt so bad? Was it the disappointment on Hoseok's face? You crawled out of your makeshift tub and wrapped yourself in a towel. Slipping on clean underwear and a hoodie you trudged back into your little home if you will. Eyes which were swollen and red from your tears becoming heavy. The door to the storage room opened, there in the doorway stood Taehyung “Annyong,” his deep tone filled the room as you watched his tiny gestures. He had wrapped himself in his blanket and hugged his pillow.

“What is it,” You were finding it hard to be blunt with him as he was so gentle and innocent. He was a fully matured young man, he had his moments of perversion or pranks but overall he didn’t have a malicious bone in his body.

“Can I sleep beside you?” Nodding too exhausted and sad to say no. He shut the door and waddled over, laying down beside you and making himself comfortable. After a few minutes of fluffing his pillow and removing your blanket and laying his bigger blanket over you both. Despite the extra room his blanket gave, he pulled you close wrapping his arms around you. You fit perfectly in his arms, letting out an audible whine as your breasts felt so soft behind your hoodie. He tried to think about other things like his favourite painter’s while singing under his breath anything to distract from your presence. The plain vanilla scent that emanated from your skin had him pressing his nose to your neck.

Every time you started to fall asleep he would moan your name and hug you tighter. Only settling when you wrapped him in your arms. His face up close was so inhuman, his sharp jaw and angular nose, the ratios between his eyes nose and lips were perfect, the symmetry everything. It was too good to be true. His personality was so gentlemanly as well it was like he just stepped out of a romance novel. Not the fifty shades kind where they have a haunting and mysterious backstory no this was the kind that is always there and the female lead doesn’t notice how good he is until the end and everything has a happy end.

Except this wasn’t the case, there was no love story here. People as perfect and gentle as Taehyung, they end up with; kind, generous and drop-dead gorgeous people. Even you wanted that for him. When you finally managed to fall asleep you were trapped in some romcom nightmare. Where your hunky neighbour and best friend Taehyung was trying to get you to fall in love with him. You had given in towards the end when he had saved your life in the dream. Taehyung lent in to kiss you, however, an inch away he pulled back and it was actually Hoseok. He looked at you in disgust and hurt. “I guess we weren’t friends after all”

Ripped from your dream with a jolt you accidentally startled Taehyung. It was useless to try to get out of his grip, you were supposed to be forgetting about them. You weren’t supposed to be worrying about Taehyung’s need for skinship and you definitely weren’t supposed to be hung up on Hoseok who was all you could think about. Him repeating those words ‘I guess we weren’t friends after all’.

“I missed you, why have you been hiding from us?” Taehyung hummed, finally addressing the subject of your disappearance the days prior. His hands slid up under your hoodie and his soft fingertips drew soft circles on your back. You don’t know if Taehyung knew the things he did were very romantic gestures one might do with a lover. Or if he just did whatever he wanted because it felt nice. You didn’t stop his gentle caress’ it felt too amazing on your jelly-like muscles. Instead, you pretended not to particularly enjoy the time you spent with him. Not saying anything that could ruin his innocent and happy bubble so early in the morning.

“Tae I have to go for a shower,” You thought this time a hot shower was needed, your muscles were in quite a bad way. The journey to the bathroom and shower and the actions required to get there and undress seemed both impossible and daunting.

“No don’t leave, I want to hug you” Did he not realise he was already hugging you? Your resolve wavered for a moment with the idea that maybe you could let him in and be nice. But the moment passed quickly and you sat up out of his arms he had rolled onto his chest pouting and kicking his legs under the blanket. His fake square mouth crying almost made you laugh and he noticed sitting up with a smirk.

“Tae it’s just a shower”

“Take me with you,” he pinched your hoodie between his thumb and forefinger, you blushed causing him to beam a brilliant megawatt smile, maybe he knew what he was doing all along. You tried to get up eyes watering in pain, he held on firmly to the hem of your clothes. “Take me with you, it’s not the first time we have showered together”

“Fine come on let’s shower, grab some clean clothes,” you said trying to pull his hand off your hoodie without flashing your underwear. He was frozen, his mouth falling open as he licked his lip, the idea of showering with you had been stuck in his mind ever since his drunken ordeal some nights ago. You managed to slip away from his grip and ducked quickly to the bathroom, remembering to lock the door behind you.

You were shampooing your hair when you heard him try the door and whine “you're a liar!” His cry made you unknowingly smile from safe and unseen behind the bathroom walls. Your brassiere was still drying after you showered in your clothes. Dressing in black shorts and a white button-up you decided to go without, to be safe you threw on a black blazer. You didn’t want for any reason the shirt to become see-through and reveal your thing is if you were going without a bra it had to be a look.

You put your hair in a business-appropriate style, your makeup was done with a dark lip tint and a slight bit of contouring of your cleavage. Adding jewellery you had found in the boxes. Simple geometric chain earring and layered geometric shape necklaces that had a chain that fell between your breasts both in silver. After slipping on some black heeled boots and looked in the mirror.

This was the look. You were fierce and ready to take on anything. When you left the bathroom Taehyung wasn’t there. Walking down the corridor you called for the elevator checking yourself out in the stainless steel doors. You couldn’t stop the small amount of concern that coursed through you for the boys to be impressed.

The people in the cafeteria were staring at you. Acting like it was no big deal as you confidently strode across the floor. The servers looked you over, shifting almost ashamed in their tracksuits, You made sure to be polite and compliment them. You weren’t a total bitch, nor did you think you were better than anyone here. They were talking hastily in Korean. Collecting your meal you turned to face the room. Areum waved at you from across the cafeteria. She was such a nice young woman, she had a boyfriend who face-timed her daily he was stuck in their apartment with their cats. She listened to your problems and even gave you great advice.

Waving back, she looked pretty in the dresses you had given her which were too small for you. She looked a lot less dishevelled having access to your secret shower you had given her a time slot where she could shower, in hopes that it was never congested in the basement. You didn’t want people to start wondering why everyone was hanging out down there. For the safety of the bathroom, you removed the sign on the door. So if anyone happened to go down there it looked like just another storage room. Aiming to sit next to your brother for lunch. He had, of course, threatened you to come out of the basement or he would give your secret shower location away to all the employees.

You carried your tray, walking slowly across the cafeteria floor. Still not spotting your brother. You ignored Taehyung's wave from their table. Someone snatched your tray, looking at them you saw Jungkook running towards the band’s table. Yoongi and Jimin wrapped their arms around your shoulders and waist, leading you without a chance to escape. Sitting you down trapped between them. Namjoon and Seokjin sat across from you both scanning your face and outfit.

“Ya don’t pout we aren’t that bad,” Seokjin said pointing his chopsticks at you and snapping them threateningly. It wasn’t a real threat he looked rather amused, his eyes glancing to the unbuttoned section of your shirt every now and again. Hoseok refused to speak while eating his breakfast and whenever he was spoken to he merely shrugged. You ate your breakfast in mostly silence, answering them only when they asked you a question.

Once breakfast was over you handed your tray over to the kitchen helpers and when you turned you saw Hoseok tongue pressed against his cheek staring at your ass in the shorts you were wearing. Whoever Gfriend was? They had some cute and stylish outfits. The others announced they were going to go get ready for the day, You went to the dance studio followed by Hoseok who sat at the back of the room watching you. You danced for about half an hour before the rest of the boys came in sitting beside Hoseok and cheering you on. The song you were halfway through dancing to had a lot you could relate to in your current situation. Dancing out your feelings.

Hoseok had seen it the moment it started the regression and depression in your eyes, he knew when you stopped leaving the basement, that something was wrong. When you started hiding from them in the halls and dodging them he knew they must have said something to hurt you. He thought it showed how much they cared, how completely wrapped around your finger they were. When you came back from the supply run gasping and begging for water he was the one to get it. But hearing you say that they didn’t care because they were famous. He wasn’t expecting that at first, he was hurt and mad because none of that was true, but the more he thought about it he knew you were right about one thing. Without the quarantine, you might not have met.

He wondered how he could make you trust them, that they wouldn’t just leave you when this was over, but he didn’t know for sure if they would even have time to hang out after. You had a right to be upset. No amount of makeup you wore could conceal the puffiness around your eyes. And here you were again a few tears falling as you put your soul into your dance.

You spun a complete circle ready for the chorus, only to spot Hoseok in the mirror dancing beside you. Copying some of your choreography that you had been repeating every chorus and when you kicked your leg up he caught it. Pulling you forward to fall against his strong chest. They all didn’t look like much but they were all so very strong. While still holding your leg he wrapped his free arm around your back. Lifting you slightly and walking you back towards the mirror, you were both panting chest to chest your leg secure in his hand above your head.

You felt the stretch in your hamstring and groaned. Your muscles were still sore. Turning your head away, not wanting to be a part of whatever it was he thought he was doing. He whispered in Korean his thumb brushing your cheek which you hadn’t realised was damp from tears. Pushing him away you straightened up both feet firmly planted on the ground.

You grabbed your things and tried to leave, you were getting too emotional. They were trying to get close to you again. Didn’t Hoseok say that you weren’t friends? Namjoon stopped you grabbing your arm. “Did we do something wrong?”

“No” You refused to look at him and his grip tightened slightly as he tried to stop you struggling. “Look, I am just preparing for when the quarantine is over and we never see or speak to each other again because you boys are Korean celebrities and I am just a random foreigner who took your interest for a few days”

“Hey that’s not how we see you,” he said but you didn’t want to hear it, it could only make it worse if he actually said they thought of you as their actual friend. Because then you would get attached and when this was all over you would have to learn to cope never being able to see them again. Because of their crazy work schedule. What was the point of being friends? You knew you didn’t think this way, you would happily wait for them no matter how long their schedule was your whole life would be on pause for them. It was a dangerous way to live.

Passing Areum your head down, she called to you. Ducking into the elevator the doors closed on the shadow of a figure running towards it calling your name. The doors shut giving you a place to let your guard down, except when the door opened once more and you were met with the gorgeous sight of Kim Seokjin. He stepped inside and closed the doors. He hit the basement button and leaned back against the wall panting.

“I got to work out more” you passed the second floor and he turned walking over. “You are right we Korean idols, we aren’t allowed to date, or hook up with anyone”

He tucked your hair behind your ear. “But that doesn’t mean our feelings aren’t real we are human” he reached up his palm covering the Elevator camera and he tilted your head up with his free hand. His face was so close and his eyes burning in anger. Anger that you could only assume was aimed at the very same idol status that was holding back from life. His breathing shook either from the chase or from the raw emotion he was feeling. “That doesn’t mean we don’t want to”

You were struck once in the chest, it was like the strike of lightning. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it once more unsure of the right words. The problem with the service elevator is it moved slower than the others, so you finally passed the first floor. And like that his lips were on yours. They were so soft and slid with such ease across yours. His warm tongue joining in and he tilted his head deepening the kiss and pressing you further against the wall. You felt helpless like Seokjin and the boys were an ocean at high tide and what was once shallow water had risen up around your knees and pulled you in. But every time it pulled you in it pushed you back. You were going to drown you just knew it. He was breathing heavily and audibly. Not wanting this to stop as he was finally feeling free, he finally was able to act on something.

All too soon the elevator slowed. He placed his free hand on the wall beside your head and pushed against it, straightening himself back up. Looking up at him, he seemed to recall his blank demeanour now that his hand was removed from the security camera. Feeling your heart drop, disappointed eyes stinging as you tried to hold back tears. You punched Seokjin in the chest, you were too exhausted and weren’t particularly trying to hurt him. “Stop playing with my emotions. Is this funny to you?”

Storming off you went to your ‘home’ and curled up in your blanket, your hand drifting to your lips as you could still feel him there. You could still taste him. The memories wouldn’t stop replaying and you hated how it felt so good. You were having a panic attack and as luck would have it, your asthma puffer was four floors above you.

[Part 1] [Part 6] [Part 8] [Tag Yourself Here]

Tags: @bubbletae7 @lovemusicandotps @taetaeb @seveniefive @w0lfqu33n @anaiss97 @moccahobi @maddymal

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meg-tann · 5 years

Text

again

a/n: hey my lovelies, you can tell by the title you guys are probably gonna cry but this idea stuck in my head while editing a prince from hell and well I had to get it out of my system. Hope you like it as much as I did writing it.

summary: The reader mum had cancer and when she finally received the news she was in remission while filming, the reader runs to tell her beloved co-star and fiance Sebastian Stan only to find that he was already having a good time without her.

warnings: ANGST!!! and light smut you know if you squit

pairing: Sebastian stan x reader, Sebastian stan x another co-star

Story!

“CUT!” The director David Lynch shouted smiling widely at you and your co-star Luke.

Awesome job guys! I don’t think we will need to be re-doing that scene. Luke, we need you for one more scene but...” He trailed off looking down at his notice board to check again. “y/n we will only be needing you for that final scene later so go ahead and take a break” He continued.

You nodded your head, the final scene wasn’t for another 1 hour so you had loads of time to kill before you needed to head to hair and makeup. You went behind the cameras and popping your bum down on your set chair saying hello to some of the crew and cast there as well. You dug through your duffel bag for your phone and pulled your brown almost ginger hair from its tight ponytail sighing as your hair felt freer.

You almost immediately got bored and your gaze shifted to your fiance Sebastian’s trailer that sat about 60 metres away from where you were, He had gone in there earlier because he said that he needed to take a phone call and hasn’t come out yet, You shrugged thinking it was probably important so you decided to scroll through Instagram replying to some of your fan’s comments on your recent post. It was a picture of you that Luke had taken of you whilst on a break.

Your beautiful body that you worked hard for was clad in a skin-tight black leotard suit much like Scarlett Johansson’s black widow costume. Your hair was flowing freely in the wind and the light had hit your face perfectly highlighting the faint freckles scattered around your cheeks. You had your fake guns strapped into your thigh holsters and was holding onto Luke’s sword that you had swung behind your neck. Your face was tilted up slightly and a soft death glare and smirk that you confidently wore on your face. You looked absolutely badass.

Several celebrities ranging from Robert Downey Junior to Zendaya, Tom and the rest of the spiderman far from home cast were posting lovely comments down in the comments section. It made you smile widely.

You continued scrolling through Instagram when you got a call from your dad, You instantly picked up thinking that something was wrong with mum. Three years ago, your mum was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer and the doctors gave her about a year to live. This news absolutely devastated you and you didn’t leave the house for days until Sebastian forced you to go visit her in the hospital. Even sick, your mum managed to make a smile and look beautiful. You and Sebastian helped pay for her Chemo Therapy and her different treatments which eased your conscience slightly knowing that she was getting the best treatments available.

You picked up the phone and walked away quickly to get some privacy but you stopped instantly in your tracks when you heard your dad let a cry. You felt tears building up and your mind went straight to the worst-case scenario.

“Dad?” You said wavily.

“Hey love” Your dad answered.

“Is mum ok? Why are you crying? Oh my god please tell me she is ok? I’ll fly back right now” You started panicking, tears leaking out earning you some concerned looks from the crew walking past. Then, your dad let out a laugh or joy which confused you beyond the end.

“Love, your mum is in remission. The doctors confirmed it today” Your dad said, you could practically hear his smile through the phone. He expected you to be screaming with joy but he was only met with silence.

“Darling?” He asked concerned. You were frozen, your mum was in remission. It finally started to settle in.

“Oh my god”

You repeated crying tears of joy, collapsing to your knees. YOUR MUM WAS IN FUCKING REMISSION.

“She’s ok”

“Oh my god” You continued to cry, it seemed like the only words in your vocabulary suddenly was ‘oh’ ‘my’ and ‘god’ but you didn’t care. The smile never left your face as you continued to talk to your dad and even mum for a few more minutes as mum needed to rest from jumping up and down so much from the news and hugging the doctor. You swore that women is the most inspiring person ever.

When you put down the phone, you screamed out in joy and ran around the set nearly bumping into a few people and cameras. You ran all the way to Sebastian’s trailer, not bothering to knock even though he was probably busy with the phone call. You burst into his trailer.

“SEBASTIAN! MY MUM-” You started to say before cutting yourself off when seeing where your fiance was or better yet who your fiance was with. Your mouth dropped in shock when you saw Sebastian on top of Michelle, the girl who played his love interest in the movie. His cock was still inside of her and when his annoyed gaze shifted to see had interrupted them, only to see you on the verge of tears. He gasped and stopped everything jumping off Michelle.

“Sebastian?” you asked in a small voice, tears falling rapidly down your face. You watched as Sebastian struggled to pull on his clothes that he had thrown on the floor from his previous activities. It was like all the feeling in your body had left, you couldn’t feel anything. Until Sebastian came forward and grabbed your wrist. Suddenly, anger and pain flooded into your system and you roughly slapped his hand off of you.

“Stay to fuck away from me” You hissed at him, anger and hate dripping with each word you spat at him. You saw him wince with each word but at this point, you didn’t seem to care. You spun around and ran out of his trailer only for him to run after you without even one doubt in his mind.

“Y/N!” You heard the voice that used to bring you comfort but now just brought you pain. his voice. You didn’t even glance back to look at him but he was persistent.

“y/n! please just look at me! please” He begged. You turned around swiftly, walking up to him.

“What” You spat looking up at him.

“Please, that wasn’t what it looked like” He begged some more.

“Really? really Sebastian because it looked to me like my fiance was fucking that slut I call a co-worker. All I wanted to tell you was that my mum was in remission but I guess that is not the only thing that made me cry today” You spat more. He might be taller than you but you watched at that second where Sebastian didn’t look like the big strong man that he played out to be.

“Hey, she is not a slut,” He said and your eyes widened in disbelief. That was he got from that? seriously? and to think that my mum actually loves him like a son. You scoffed, turning away and walking away from him but he ran after you and grabbed your forearm tightly. A little too tightly.

“ok ok please just listen” Sebastian pleaded.

“With you filming for this movie and you being the main character and everything, I just didn’t see you as often anymore and I-” You stared at him and let out a pained laugh.

“You didn’t see me as much anymore” You scoffed, tears not stopping.

You turned to face him, you were so close that you could feel his shaky breath on your tear-stained face. “That is absolute bullshit” You whispered.

“How many times were you the fucking main character in a movie Sebastian? HOW FUCKING MANY?!” You shouted poking him in the chest each time.

“SO fucking many and NOT ONCE did I ever cheat on you! Even when you left for months and then re-shoots! NOT once. And now when I finally get my big break you cheat on me then come up with a bullshit excuse? because let me tell you something Sebastian, You are a piece of shit.” You spat.

That's when you saw it, the change in body posture and facial expression. Sebastian was fuming.

“You know what you piece of shit? You wanna know the truth? Sure I fucking cheated on you because YOU are a disgusting rat and fucking terrible in bed. I only fucking proposed to your sorry ass cause I felt bad for you to know you wouldn’t be able to find anyone else. ” His words dripped in hate, you looked in his eyes to see if it was just the rage talking but no. He meant it. He really did.

You finally cracked. You let a sob of just pain as it flooded every inch of your body. You stared at him but his face didn’t soften in the slightest, the same hate that spat those hurtful words at you. You looked down at your finger and saw the beautiful diamond ring that Sebastian proposed to you with.

You remembered that day so clearly, It was 2 years ago. You were wearing a flowy flowery maxi dress and Sebastian was in your favourite tight black shirt and black jeans that hugged his thighs so nicely. It was sunset and the sky was filled with vibrant reds, oranges, pinks and purples. The palm trees were blowing in the wind and the fairy lights that were hung from each made the place look like a fairytale. The waves were crashing against the rocks as you and Sebastian strolled down the white sandy beach of Hawaii. You sighed happily and let go of your boyfriend of 3 years Sebastian’s hand to turn and get a better look at the sunset.

“Thank you for taking me here sebby,” You said smiling and breathing in before turning back to smile at your boyfriend. Then, your breath caught in your throat, there was Sebastian, down on one knee, holding out a beautiful yet simple diamond ring.

“Y/n, you are literally the most beautiful women in the world and you are my whole world. You are my everything and I love holding you when we sleep, I love kissing you goodnight and whispering soft nothings into your ear when you have a bad dream, You are the only women I could ever see myself with. You are brave, talented, kind, selfless, loyal, funny, generous and so so so pretty. I would continue but we would be here all night and day if I listed everything I love about you. Urgg... I had this whole speech planned in my head and I’m just-” You cut him off by collapsing down the sand, crying and hugging him so hard that you both fell to the sand.

“Yes,” You whispered shakily into his ear. You looked at him and pressed your lips into his soft pink ones.

That night was the first time that Sebastian made love to you and truly showed you how much he really loved you.

You went silent replaying that memory as you snapped back into reality, the only sound was Sebastian’s fuming breaths and your sobs that you tried so hard to choke back. You watched as he didn’t say anything but hold out his palm, no emotion placed on his face. You let out a final cry as you wiggled the ring and so many memories off your finger placing it in his hand.

He whipped his hand back and immediately walked away not even giving you a second glance. You did what you knew, run.

You ran out of the set building. Little did you know that, after you turned away Sebastian did look back. He looked down at his hand to see the ring, the pain finally set in knowing that you were gone and it was all his fault. He didn’t mean anything. He loved you.

He ran after you.

You ran until you reached the main street. The pain was still flooding your veins.

“Your disgusting rat”

“Terrible in bed”

“Sorry ass” “Felt bads for you”

“Never be able to find anyone else to love”

It repeated over and over in your head. You wanted it to stop. Your tears didn’t stop flowing and you didn’t notice that the light had become red when you started crossing in the middle of the road. The last you heard was the sound of a car horn blaring loudly and a strong impact on your side. Everything went black.

You were free.

Sebastian ran and ran, He finally reached the main street. There were police and a crowd of people all surrounding one spot. He felt the blood leave his face and he prayed that nothing happened.

“Move it people”

“fucking move it”

He said pushed roughly through the crowd. That’s when he saw you. Your eyes were closed and there was dried up blood and fresh blood dripping from your head and stomach, staining the concrete road. He gasped and dropped down the ground not caring if he hurt his knees. He grabbed your body and hugged it close to his chest. Your blood staining his t-shirt, pants and hands.

“No no no no no”

“Hey babydoll, you're ok, you have to be”

“please god no, please don’t leave me”

“You're ok”

He cried and cried. He felt sick like he was going to throw up, his body was numb as he just cried and cried. He rocked your body back and forth. He couldn’t lose you. He reached his blood-covered hands into his back pocket and pulled out the ring. He cried as his trembling fingers slipped the ring back onto your ring finger along with the diamond-encrusted wedding ring that he had purchased a few months ago. He looked inside and reading the writing engraved into the ring. ‘sunt cu tine până la sfârșitul liniei prințesei’

Romanian for “I’m with you till the end of the line princess” Sebastian whispered to himself before letting out another cry

He reached up to your neck and noticed that you didn’t have a pulse. It was like a spear had stabbed his heart 50 times and somebody ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped on it continuously.

Finally, the paramedics arrived and he was forced to let go of your body. They offered to let him ride with you which he immediately said yes.

He watched behind the glass as they tried to get your heart beating.

He watched behind the glass as they failed.

He watched behind the glass as they tried again.

He watched behind the glass as they failed again.

He watched behind the glass as they announced the time of death.

He prayed.

“You can’t leave me y/n, this is all my fault, please god take me instead” He pleaded.

“Please don’t leave me”

“please”

“I can’t live without you”

beep. beep. beep.

Your heart started beating.

again.

x end x

a/n: ok, I’m sorry that the ending was shit but I hope you kind of like it. let me know.

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan smut #Seb Stan #sebastian stan fluff #happy birthday sebastian stan #seb #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan angst #sad #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes angst

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nala-kenmore · 4 years

Text

The Power of Friendship

I’m interrupted from my thoughts as Julian comes into the room. I can’t believe it when he holds up the gifts he made! Not just for me, but for the others too! I know how much this will mean for Dora in particular… and for me. I put my own bracelet on as I reply, “Thank you, Julian! I’ll do my best to get these to everyone.” In all honesty, I hope I never have to give Hesperus his gift, since my only opportunity to do so would probably be if he was taken prisoner again. But maybe another hybrid or drone can hold onto it for safekeeping, just in case [Wally ;)].

He hugs me and starts crying, which of course sets me off too. He says he’s sorry we won’t be able to see each other anymore. “Me too!” It almost doesn’t feel real for this to be happening. But I also know there are a lot worse ways this could have ended. I try to use that as a silver lining, to cheer Julian up. “But we’re all going to be ok, I know we are! Friends can’t always stay in your life forever, but the lessons they teach you can. I think we both needed to show each other things we couldn’t have seen by ourselves. This is as close to a happy ending as we could have asked for.”

He thanks me. “Thank you too, Julian. You showed me that there are good scientists, good people, out there. I think that’s something I need to know now more than ever…” It’s also nice to think that the Sanctuary will be a safe haven again. That amongst all the worlds of rebel refugees and awful Gwen drug planets, there’s one little piece of the galaxy I know where everyone is happy and at peace.

As I try to think of what I can gift to Julian in return, I suddenly realise something. “You’ll need supplies! Lots of supplies! We need to pack before we get there, it’ll be risky to hang around for too long once we’re out of hyperspace!”

I go into big sister mode and think of all the things he’ll need to be able to support himself and the pigs on the planet! I get out a tablet and write out a list. There are a few important items I’ll need to work on myself, so I edit the list down to things I think Julian and his pigs should be able to handle:

· Bedding and blankets

· Hay (for the pigs)

· Food

· Clothes

· Medicine

· Lab supplies

· Cutlery and crockery

· Towels and soap

“Take however much you feel you’ll need. In fact, take twice as much as you think you’ll need, since I don’t know when or even if you’ll ever be able to resupply. I’ll pay Ziara back for everything, so don’t worry about that.” I have no idea how I’ll be able to do that, but I’ll have time to think about that after Julian leaves. “Once you’re finished, meet me in the dart bay. I’ll need to give you some flying lessons!” I intend to leave Julian a dart on the planet. It’s a little risky, in that leaving them with no way off the planet would guarantee that they couldn’t spread the infection. Nevertheless, I hate the idea of them being completely trapped there if Nemo or any other bad guys show up.

I begin my own list of tasks.

Firstly, I make a stop at the armoury and retrieve a couple of swiss army knives (for tool use) and stunners. I change the colour of the stun light from blue to pink, in honour of the pigs he’ll be protecting. Hopefully, that will make him more comfortable with the thought of using them if he has to, although I hope there’s never a need.

Then, I make my way to the bridge and grab another tablet. I upload a number of files from the main database that I think will be useful for him. These include entries on agriculture, survival skills, pig veterinary care and how to make a number of products from natural resources, such as clothes, soap and medicines. I make sure to grab a solar charger for it, and a basic repair kit, so he should be able to use it for a long time. Finally, I jot down a number of my own recipes, including Steve’s vegetable soup.

Whilst I’m at the bridge, I see a message come up telling hives to report ANY activity in the solar system that the Sanctuary is located in, as well as checking the planet itself. Shoot, ok, we need a plan B! I try to think of what to do… I kept the Sanctuary safe last time by convincing the hybrids, and hence Michael, that there was nothing there. Perhaps that’s what I need to do again now… I could pretend that we’re one of the hives that’s come to scout out the planet! Once the search is done and the all-clear is given, that’s when I can have Julian fly down! I instruct the ship to fly us to the Sanctuary’s solar system, but not directly to the planet. I set it to turn on its tracking signal again as soon as we leave hyperspace, so that we won’t look suspicious to the other hives in the area. But only the normal ones, not any special ones to show that it belongs to Ziara. In fact, I ask it to forget that it’s Ziara’s hive, it's having a change in ownership. It’s now… a patrol hive whose commander is… Hybrid Captain Huckrabye (I hope your acting skills are up to scratch, Julian!).

A little more stressed now about our situation, but hoping we should be able to keep things under control, I go to my final stop before the dart bay: a metal-working lab. I show the computer the two items I want made, and wait for the machines to 3D print them out.

The first one to come out is a friendship bracelet for Julian. It’s a metal-link strap with a number of charms attached. Each charm is the initial of one of the people he made a friendship bracelet for, along with a charm that says “friends” at the end.

The second item is the closest thing I can get to an insurance policy. It’s a brooch that has two words on the front. If Julian shows it to any hybrids that happen upon the world, and tells them not to report him, it’s almost guaranteed to terrify them into obeying… ;)

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hard-on-harry-blog · 5 years

Text

Tonight Love

This one is a smutty, angsty lil number based around Valentine’s Day. It involves unprotected sex with a stranger, but please wrap those willies up kiddos! And please don’t read this if you aren’t 18+ <3

Thank you to my girlfriend @for-fucks-sake-h for always being my go-to girl. I love you. :)

3k+ words!

PLEASE let me know if you enjoy this! I’d really appreciate it. :)

(Not properly edited - I was too excited to post something longer on here!)

The pub was just beginning to empty out as snow began to fall outside, but Harry decided to stay warm inside and sip on whisky, not wanting to go back home and face the quiet just yet. He’d just gotten out of the longest relationship he’d ever had, just over a year, and he felt himself drowning in sorrow. Although he was the one who initiated the break-up, he had truly experienced deeper feelings for her than he’d felt for anyone before, and it made him sad to see it end. Not to mention, the loneliness that he always felt was just that much stronger.

The crease between his brows was deep as he sat at the bar, allowing himself to wallow in his own melancholy, brave enough to finally feel what he’d been putting off. He felt comfortable letting himself feel sad when he was surrounded by strangers, sure that there had to be someone in a worse off spot than he was.

And there was.

There was a girl at the other end of the bar, allowing the burn from the shots down her throat to distract her from the fact that she’d finally left an over 5 year relationship that she’d wanted to leave for as long as she could remember, but she felt so lonely because she was used to having someone around. Her legs were dangling off of the barstool, unable to reach the floor from where she sat, and she felt like it was the perfect metaphor. She felt small. Fragile.

Harry glanced down at her and saw a single tear rolling down her face. He could almost feel her sorrow drowning out his own. It was fucking Valentine’s Day and she looked stunning, maybe she’d been stood up, he couldn’t be sure. She at least deserved to have someone buying her drinks for her, even if her heart was broken and probably impossible to be fixed much like his own.

“Excuse me, sir? D’you know if the woman down there is here alone? The one in the pink dress.”

The bartender turned his head down the bar, nodding, “Think so. She’s been here for an hour and a half and hasn’t moved from that spot.”

“What’s she drinking?”

“Flaming lemon drops.”

“No idea what that is but send her one on my tab, please. Looks like she could use a smile.”

The bartender nodded and poured another for the girl down the bar. He handed it to her, letting her know where the shot was coming from and she looked at Harry, a sad smile on her face. She held it up, mouthed a ‘thank you’, and downed it within a moment.

Her eyes clenched shut as the burn hit her throat again, not feeling quite as strong as the first few, but still ever present. She needed to stop feeling, she couldn’t handle feeling so lonely. She wasn’t used to it. She hadn’t spent a Valentine’s Day alone since she was a teenager and she didn’t know what the do with herself.

He ordered himself another shot of whisky, allowing the burn to warm his insides once more. He glanced back over to her and saw that she was actually bobbing her head along to the music in the background, a sure sign that the alcohol was finally doing it’s job and she was beginning to let loose, and maybe not feel quite so sad.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t starting to feel a buzz either. He’d never had a high tolerance and being a few shots in was doing him in more than he’d like to admit, but he welcomed the sensations. Anything was better than sadness, than loneliness.

He ordered each of them another round, which they did whilst maintaining eye contact. Neither of them felt so alone anymore, thankful that there was someone there that was experiencing something similar. It was Harry that decided to close the gap between them, making his way down the bar next to her, sitting on the stool to her right.

“I’m Harry,” he held his hand out, sounding raspier than usual, he was almost surprised at the depth of his own voice. He hadn’t talked too much in the last hour and the alcohol coating his throat certainly wasn’t helping.

She shook his hand, “I’m Y/N. Thank you for the drinks, that was really nice of you.”

“No sense in both of us being here, buying our own drinks, and being a couple of emotional recluses. Saw you were crying, didn’t want your Valentine’s Day to be as shitty as mine.”

She let out a chuckle, “Think that’s too late, but it’s a sweet thought. What’s gotten you so sad?”

“Broke up with m’girlfriend. Longest I’ve ever been with someone, proper sort of throwing me for a loop. What about you?”

“Broke up with my boyfriend as well. I’m not really used to being alone anymore, especially not on a day like today. Always been a big sop, being alone on Valentine’s Day feels like a bad dream.”

He nodded, being able to relate completely. Harry was a hopeless romantic and the day of love was deemed that for a reason - you were meant to remind the ones you love how much you loved them. He was feeling very unloved and was very much craving to feel loved again. Or at least to feel something outside of the crippling loneliness he was feeling

“Well, I probably sound like a fuckin' nutter but let’s spend tonight together. Neither of us wants to be alone. Clearly you’re stunning and ‘m not so bad myself, even if a bit narcissistic. Think I can manage to pretend to love ya for a night if you feel up for the challenge too.”

She nodded, “I think I can manage that as well. Do you want to dance, Harry?”

He stood up and held his hand out, “I’d love to, Y/N.”

They made their way to the nearly empty dance floor, holding each other close as though they’d known one another forever. The way that her back was rubbing against his front was making his mind feel hazy, almost forgetting that she was actually a stranger. Her touch against him felt familiar and he welcomed the familiarity, clinging onto it for all that it was worth.

They allowed themselves to get lost in those feelings for four songs in a row, feeling closer every sway. Both of their own respective loneliness didn’t feel quite as heavy, although it was still there. As much as they were enjoying the feel of having someone nearby and some sense of familiarity, it wasn’t the person whose presence they were truly used to, but it would do for tonight.

They made their way back to the counter, the last two in the building. They ordered another round of shots, doing them together, allowing themselves to forget their sorrows for a while and find refuge in the laughter of their “tonight love” as Harry called it.

Before too long, the bartender notified the pair that the pub was closing and they’d unfortunately need to leave. Neither of them knew what to do but the idea of being completely alone all night felt like it was out of the question, just the thought of it once again drowning them in the overwhelming loneliness they’d finally fought off.

Soon after, they were stood out in the bitter cold, each having ordered a separate Uber, but Harry broke the silence. He had tears in his eyes and he wasn’t sure where the emotion was coming from, probably a mixture of a few things, and his voice was barely above a whisper, but laced with sheer desperation.

“I know this is fake and you’re not actually in love with me, but please… It’s been s’long since anyone’s made love to me and I need it.. So bad.”

Her eyes flickered over to his, the streetlamps casting a glow over her face and causing her to appear even more beautiful than she had inside of the dimly lit pub. They hadn’t even so much as shared a kiss yet and he was proposing that they made love? It would probably sound crazy to any random passerby but the ache between her legs and in her chest made it clear that she needed it just as much as he did. The emptiness competing with the loneliness and if they could help each other out, shouldn’t they?

She nodded, pressing cancel on her Uber.

“Okay. Let’s get a room somewhere.”

One of the tears escaped his eye, sliding down his slightly flushed cheeks. He quickly wiped it away and took a deep breath, surprised and thankful that she’d said yes. Harry loved intimacy, he craved it all the time, but on a day that was always filled with so much love from him, the idea of going home completely alone was enough to wreck him. He was grateful for Y/N and her willingness to be his for the night. He needed this. Needed her.

He pressed cancel on his own Uber before pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Y’have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you, love.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his midsection, “Need it just as bad as you do.”

Moments later, they pulled apart and he held his hand out to her to hold, to which she quickly obliged. The air was quickly growing even colder but their bodies still felt warm. They found a cheap hotel fairly quickly, going inside and getting a room. They stepped into the lift together, moving in more closely together. Both of them knew that this was probably a poor coping mechanism but in a twisted way, neither of them cared. They needed each other.

The room was almost stale when they finally walked in, a trace of cigarette smoke wafting through the thick air. The bed wasn’t huge and had a pattern on the covers that looked almost tacky. There was a random photo of a cow in a field above the bed which caused Harry to furrow his brows for a moment, wondering why the hell that was there… But they didn’t come for luxury.

Harry hardly even realised when Y/N stood in front of him, unbuttoning the rest of his white button down shirt. She was moving slowly, tantalisingly, and it was driving Harry crazy. He loved a good tease, but he just needed to feel her, taste her, be close to her.

He finished the job, quickly discarding shirt on the table beside them. He kicked his shoes off and it wasn’t long before his floral trousers were hung over the scratchy green desk chair and he was clad in only his underwear. He positioned himself behind Y/N, unzipping the back of the form-fitting, pale pink dress that clung to her body in all of the right places. It fell to the floor on it’s own and she stepped out of the pool of fabric that surrounded her feet, discarding of her heels in the same movement.

She turned back around to face Harry again, arms reaching around his neck, pulling him in close to her. One of her hands moved so she could play with the wispy curls at the nape of his neck that were ever so slightly still damp from the warmth of the pub and their dancing. She pressed her lips against his own, taking control of the situation. She could feel her wetness up against the fabric of her panties and she didn’t want to waste time.

She backed him up against the bed, causing him to land on his bum on the firm mattress. He wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her even closer until she straddled his lap, legs resting bent on either side of him on the bed. One of his hands made its way to her face, holding onto it, deepening the kiss.

His other hand made its way to her bottom where he gave her a light squeeze, fingers gently leaving a trail as he moved toward her covered center. Once he reached her panties he could already feel the wetness seeping through and he let out a soft moan into her mouth, “So wet already, angel. ‘S all this f’me?”

His accent thickened in his heated haze, inhibitions falling away, and all he could focus on was her. He was so used to his ex but this new woman was so intriguing to him, her lips tasting so sweet yet the taste of lemon strong on her tongue from the drinks she’d had at the pub. Her skin was so soft against his own, he wanted to cover every inch of himself up with every inch of her and stay there forever, he thought.

But this wasn’t actually real. It was fleeting.

In between sloppy kisses against his mouth she told him, “Don’t wanna waste time, Harry. I need to feel you.”

He nodded, shifting so he could lay her on the bed, hovering over her frame. His forearms propped him up on either side of her head before he kissed her again, a desperation laced on his lips that hadn’t been so prevalent before. Their need for each other was becoming too strong, foreplay was out of the question, he just needed to be inside of her.

“Don’ think I have a condom, Y/N.”

“I’m on birth control, I’m clean. Are you?’

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Then I’m not worried about it. Just want you to make love to me.”

He kissed her neck, hands moving down her body like they’d touched her so many times before. He reached the waistband of her panties and tugged them down before slipping one finger into her heat and letting out a sharp breath. She felt so warm, wet, and tight around just his finger and he had no idea how he’d ever last when it was his cock inside of her instead.

She clumsily tried pulling his underwear off of him before he took over and removed them himself, not wanting to waste any more time. He was throbbing, precum leaking out of his raspberry tip, and it was almost making his head pound how needy he felt.

He removed his finger, lifting it and placing it against her tongue, watching as her cheeks hollowed around it and her eyes rolled back in pleasure. If it had been under any other circumstance that they were together, that would have been enough for him to fucking ruin her, but he wanted to make love to her. He wanted to be slow, passionate, caring.

He aligned himself with her entrance and pushed all the way in with one swift motion. She let out a few breathy moans, feeling her tightness stretch to make room for him. He kissed her softly, whispering in her ear how incredible she felt around him and how good he was gonna make sure she felt.

He thrusted his hips in and out of her, slowly but more deeply than she’d ever felt someone. She arched her back, body experiencing pure ecstasy. She could barely remember how to talk, only able to repeat his name over and over again. His face was nuzzled into her neck, heavy but short breaths falling from between his lips, pressing kisses against the soft skin every now and then when he could manage to.

“Jesus Christ, I love you.”

She nodded in response, trying hard to find the words to say back, “I… fuck, Harry, I love you too.”

As soon as the words fell from her mouth, her orgasm hit her hard and she began to clench around his cock. Her legs were shaky as wave after wave rolled through her body. She grabbed Harry’s face and kissed him, desperate to feel as intimate and connected with him as she possibly could.

That was enough to tip Harry over the edge as he met his release, spurting against her walls, her cunt still greedily squeezing out every drop that it could muster out of him. His body dropped on top of hers, but he was still careful not to give her his deadweight. He hadn’t felt so spent in ages and he didn’t want to do anything but snuggle up to this girl that just loved him in all of the ways he needed to be loved, wanting to radiate the warmth she’d given him back to her.

He rolled beside her, pulling her tight against him.

“Thank you. Wanna hold you for a while, ‘s that okay? Wanna end this properly. Might never feel this way again.”

She nodded, giving him a soft kiss, “You read my mind.”

They stayed cuddled up together, wrapped in blankets and afraid of what emotions would hit them full force when they finally said goodbye. They were exactly what the other person needed but they couldn’t rely on each other forever, they’d eventually have to deal with it head on, alone.

They fell asleep, wrapped up in one another. When morning hit, Harry got up to take a shower and get dressed, already feeling despair racking through his body. The clock beside the bed read that it was just after ten in the morning and they had to be out by eleven.

“Y/N? We’ve gotta leave soon…”

His voice was gentle as he nudged her shoulder carefully. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw him, nodding in acknowledgement before she got out of the bed.

“‘M gonna take a shower. I’ll hurry so that you can too.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

He walked into the bathroom, still naked from the night before. He stepped under the hot streams of water, allowing them to wash over his body and distract his mind for a last few moments of peace. He wasn’t ready to face the day alone, didn’t feel ready to say goodbye to his last night love, and had no idea where he’d go from here, or what he’d do.

Y/N felt the same way, but the pain was too much for her to bear. She quickly got herself dressed, leaving him a note to find once he was out of the shower. Tears filled her eyes as she walked out the door and made her way back to her empty flat.

Both of them were broken, thankful that they had at least one night where they could feel whole, even if it made the following days feel that much harder.

Once Harry was done showering and found the note, he stared at it for so long he lost track of time.

Sorry but I had to go. You’re incredible. Thank you for everything. I hope you find your peace. Love you. Xx

As he walked out of the front doors of the hotel he whispered, “Love you.”

Maybe they’d never love again but at least they always had last night to hold onto.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst

198 notes · View notes

dakogutin · 5 years

Text

One More Night

Pairing: Dan Howell & Phil Lester Tags: Fluff / Domestic / Humour / Bants Words: 2,304

Summary: Dan is flying away for a relative's birthday with his fam. Phil just finished reading a chaptered phanfic where Dan dies in the end. He decides to convince Dan to stay one more night, but how?

(ao3 link)

pls be nice ♡ this is the first fic i’ve written. still very proud of how it turned out tho :D

★・・・・★・・・・★

An hour and a half has passed since both Dan and Phil finished eating their dinner which was the usual, Chinese takeaway. Dan is in the office editing a new danandphilgames video while Phil is in the bedroom, just as occupied…

45th chapter of a 45 chaptered phanfic.

Phil was curled up facing the right side of the bed. He was hugging his pillow in his left hand and he scrolled through his phone using his right. Only when he inhaled deeply was when he realized his eyes were already filled with tears and was only a matter of time until they actually start flowing.

The boy sat up and repositioned himself so his back was properly leaning on his pillows and that his glasses won’t be even more bent than it already is.

He scrolls down once more and reads the last sentence.

“This was the most fun I’ve ever had.” Dan said and took his last breath

That was it.

Tears were falling already before he could even begin to digest anything properly, and they were falling fast.

Phil wiped the falling tears using his wrists messily, like a child who dropped his ice cream in public. He laughed and silently cursed himself, finding the irony in this situation. He already knew he was going to regret reading something like this. Especially when he saw the ‘ angst’ and the ‘ major character death’ tag. Yet here he is.

He lay flat on his back like that for a while. Just enough time until his tears stopped flowing but his eyes were still puffed from all the crying.

Phil breathed deeply then quickly got up. He suddenly just remembered Dan was supposed to be leaving tomorrow morning but anxiety interfered so he just wanted to reassure himself that Dan is here with him, safe and most especially, alive .

★・・・・★・・・・★

Dan stretched, shifting on the office chair as he felt all his muscles were strained from maintaining a single position ever since he sat.

Completely disregarding the consequences this would do to his already poor spine, he slouched even more onto his seat until the only thing keeping him on the chair is mostly his back, and his bum is barely even on the cushion anymore.

He can see a person’s figure enter the room from his peripheral vision, which he obviously presumed was Phil. But he decided there was no need for him to divert his attention to Phil’s presence so he carried on.

It took about a full minute or two until Dan can’t help but be bothered still seeing Phil out of the corner of his eye. Furrowing his brows in confusion, he turned to Phil and raised them in question.

“...what?”

The question shook Phil out of his thoughts, Dan could tell.

His eyes fluttered as he looked everywhere but to Dan’s, then they’ve finally settled on the floor.

It didn’t seem like Phil was going to respond on any second at that moment, so the younger boy spoke again.

“Phil.”

Doe-like blue eyes finally looked up to meet his gaze.

“This is literally what your parents must’ve felt with you running to them and not saying anything in the middle of the night.” Dan said as a sign of reassurance and comfort, trying to ease whatever tension Phil seems to be in.

Phil gave a really small smile, barely even there unless you look really hard. And of course for Dan, it was.

Dan glanced at the video he was editing then at Phil. He sat up and turned his chair to face him entirely.

“You okay?” Dan asked.

“Yep. This is nothing. I was just… checking if you needed help with the video. You know, give some advice and all that.” Phil was fiddling with his hands. He had an awkward smile and he shrugged.

“Really.” Dan spun on his chair to save the progress he’s made so far on the computer. He was already getting bored anyway, he was just about to stop.

“No! Dan, really. I was just about to go away now. Sorry... If I... uh... creeped you out.” Phil said, his voice getting softer as he spoke.

“Phil, I know something’s up. You really think I’d buy that?” Dan replied as he finished shutting down the computer. He stood up and walked towards Phil, stopping right in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you started packing?” Phil said in almost a whisper, looking at Dan.

Dan wasn’t expecting Phil to check up on his preparations for his flight tomorrow morning so he choked a chuckle “uh heh.. No. I’ve been editing this video. I haven’t really-”

“Do you really have to go tomorrow ?” Phil said sitting down on the nearest seat, which was the sofa’s arm.

Dan smiled. He knows something’s bothering this man, although he can’t help but swoon over clingy Phil. “Do you want me not to?” He raised an eyebrow.

Phil would normally blush and then shove him whenever Dan would playfully tease him like this but this time, he looked straight into Dan’s eyes and said “No. I want you to stay.”

Another unexpected response from Phil. Dan was now truly at loss for words, he was stumped at how direct Phil suddenly was.

It was Phil’s turn to walk towards Dan to stop right in front of him. He didn’t say anything though, he just stared at Dan with hopeful eyes that were also begging, like a puppy waiting for a treat.

★・・・・★・・・・★

“I still deserve to know what made you want me to adjust my plans for tomorrow, you know.” Dan said, head resting on Phil’s shoulder with his arm around the younger’s frame. They were both in their pyjamas, having a Netflix marathon on their couch.

Phil hummed, fingers finding their way to play with Dan’s curls.

“Phil...” Dan looked up. Their faces just inches apart as he catches Phil already staring back at him.

Phil pecked his nose and squeezed him tighter. Dan rolled his eyes and smiled fondly, trying to release himself from Phil’s arm. “You can’t just keep avoiding the question, Lester.” holding Phil’s arm to keep it stable, he was now sitting up. Face leaning towards Phil emphasizing his demand for an answer.

Phil smiled back but a sheepish one. It would seem Dan had figured out he’d been stalling from explaining himself.

“Alright…” Phil paused, embarrassment kicking in. “I... read a phanfic.” he folded his lips, anxious for Dan’s reaction.

It was quiet for a while until Dan spoke “Yeah? I was waiting for you to continue, sorry.” he chuckled.

Phil frowned and gave Dan a look.

“But okay, right. You can’t stop there, that doesn’t really explain anything!” Dan laughed, confused.

Before Phil could reply, Dan went on “I mean, unless it’s what I think you’re trying to say… Suggesting to recreate some late night smut content-”

“ Stop .”

“It explains why you’re suddenly so clingy-”

“Dan!”

“Phil, you didn’t have to make me delay my flight for that-” Dan whined, jokingly. He placed his hand on Phil’s cheek as if to indicate comfort.

“Oh my god. ” Phil rolled his eyes and shoved Dan, the latter’s laugh echoing in the room.

“All we need is a night, you know.” Dan winked and laughed again.

“You’re making me regret stopping you now.” which was true up until he heard Dan’s loud and iconic booming laugh, he knows he’ll never get tired of.

Dan took Phil’s chin and kissed his cheek. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop.” he rested his head on his hand and stared at Phil, smiling. Waiting for him to continue his point.

Phil poked the tip of Dan’s nose “Besides, if that was my plan... I wouldn’t bother telling you.”

Taken by surprise, Dan jerked his chin inwards, but he had a suggestive look on his face as he raised his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that meant?” to which, Phil just shrugged. Trying to display innocence whilst having a cheeky expression on his face.

“Just a disclaimer though, I knew reading this particular phanfic was a bad idea. Since it was tagged with things like angst, drama and explicit -” Phil began.

“Why’d you do it then?” Dan cut in.

“I wanted to keep myself busy, I don’t know! You were leaving so I was looking for things to distract myself from thinking about being alone...”

Dan felt his expression go soft as he smiled fondly at Phil.

“And I didn’t think I’d be so immersed in the story that I’d finish 45 chapters within 2 days-”

“Woah ok, wait a minute... 45 CHAPTERS WITHIN 2 DAYS?”

Phil chuckled, making his tongue poke out. He didn’t really think about the weight of that until Dan pointed it out.

The entire time Phil was narrating the summary of the phanfic, Dan was constantly disagreeing. Particularly with his character and how he reacted in the story.

“Is this really how people see me?” or “I would NOT say that. What the hell...” Dan would say and Phil would just shush him.

After some time, the story finally came to an end. “Those were your last words. Then you… died.” Phil breathed as if saying the last word was forbidden, his brows furrowed.

“Holy fuck, that’s brutal.” Dan said as he massaged his forehead with one hand, leaning back to the sofa.

“Exactly why I couldn’t really say anything when I went to you after just finishing it.”

Dan huffed. “I mean, for the record, I wouldn’t do OR say a lot of those things that caused shit to happen in the first place...”

Everything just suddenly went back to Phil. It’s different just hearing someone’s summary than actually reading a phanfic or any story, generally. He didn’t notice he was just staring blankly into space, lost in his thoughts and feelings, again .

Dan shifted closer to Phil, keeping him from mentally floating away. Using his most soothing voice, he spoke “Hey.” taking Phil’s hand gently and rubbing circles on his knuckles with his thumb. “Look at me.”

Phil had the saddest eyes Dan had seen. “I’m sorry.” he chuckled. “I’m being weird and selfish… I made you cancel your flight just so you can be with me unnecessarily being dramatic over a phanfic-”

“Never invalidate your feelings. Whether it’d be something as small as just reading a 45 chaptered harrowing phanfic, you’re allowed to be dramatic about it if you choose to. ESPECIALLY, if it has personally affected you. Don’t apologize because I didn’t really cancel my trip, I rescheduled it. And it’s not like you forced me, I stayed because I’ll always choose you.”

Phil turned to face him entirely. Hand cupping Dan’s left jaw, he kissed the boy’s lips. Dan kissed back while holding Phil’s hand on his face. The latter was pouring his previous worries and now overwhelming gratitude into the kiss, Dan was reciprocating just as much emotion but with more reassurance and comfort.

Dan pulled back slowly, leaving only a really thin space between them. “Besides, you being selfish with me is something I don’t mind being the cause of my extended stay here.”

Softly stealing a kiss from Dan again, Phil said “Of course you would know not to stop me from being dramatic, you spend almost an entire day recovering from something that made you emotional.” he grinned.

“Uhm.. Ok, why you rude?” Dan leaned back and placed his hand on his chest, fingers spread.

Phil just giggled with the usual tongue-bite-thing™ and tackled Dan onto the sofa.

Old habits die hard.

★・・・・★・・・・★

They were now next to each other on the bed, lights out. Phil’s arm wrapped around Dan’s waist as both of them faced one side of the bed.

“How dare you tell me I spend the entire day being emotional. It took you until 2am to move on...” Dan mumbled.

Phil chuckled sleepily and snuggled into the crook of Dan’s neck. “You really didn’t let that go?”

The breath on his sensitive neck made Dan shiver. “Shut up. I’ll never forgive-”

Phil noticed the reaction so he bit Dan’s neck which made the younger boy jerk his head up and glared at the giggling black-haired man behind him.

“PHIL!”

He was full-on laughing, covering his mouth. “Shhh Dan!” Phil said in between giggles. “Let’s sleep, come on.”

The brunette’s mouth fell open as he furrowed his brows, Dan’s face spelled out you’re unbelievable .

When Phil’s laugh died down he suddenly felt the room was too quiet. Even though it was what’s supposed to be, especially at this hour. He thought about how empty the bed would feel with just him tomorrow since his roommate's previous morning flight will most likely just turn into an evening one. He still wasn’t sure about the final plans but considering Dan’s presence could be a priority in that event, it might be urgent. Of course he was thankful, but he can’t avoid thinking it didn’t quite fully satisfy his original request.

“Dan?” he whispered.

“Night.” Dan yawned.

He poked Dan in the tummy. “Tomorrow night, you won’t be here...”

“Phil.” Dan turned to face him. “I’m not moving out.”

“I know, but I was just wondering if you’ve already bought your ticket?”

“It seems like you’ve got a pattern with your persuasion skills. I know where this is going.”

“Right. Uhh... Since you cancelled your supposed flight tomorrow morning, when’s gonna be your final flight? Tomorrow… evening?” Phil asked.

“I don’t really know yet. But I think so, yeah.” Dan paused. “Why?” he said with less curiosity and more as if he was egging Phil on.

“I need one more night.” Phil bit his lip. “Give me one more night.”

Dan sighed, defeated. Fuck it . “You sap.” the boy smiled. And immediately felt also smiling lips against his own.

★・・・・★・・・・★

#daniel howell #phil lester #dan and phil #fanfic #fluff

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ajabsusbjsbsbanns · 6 years

Photo

Warning for some mentions of sexual intimacy and also somewhat cp?.. the intimacy is not explicit by any means. however i go into detail on why their art is bad so just keep this in mind.

please consider reading this whole thing before jumping to a conclusion

(and im aware the screenshots above are somewhat out of context. this was going to be short but it isnt now)

hey! a deviantart user by the name of foxdragonlover drew nsfw art of spyro and cynder. there was some backlash and they had this to say. i really dont have nearly enough energy to read through this fucking novel of a post but i skimmed it. now please pay attanetion to these parts of the post.

“When i drew that picture of Spyro and Cynder, it came from a place of love and strong feelings.If someone draws art of those two as adults being more raw and wild, with the intent of just doing that as part of their story, that's normal!I can imagine Cynder growing into the type who is a little domineering in the sack, whilst Spyro would be more submissive and tender/attentive.These thoughts, through development and story when you treat characters as actual characters and not as pieces of meat, is fine.”

what theyre saying i that as long as they fleshed out the characters and dont just see them as moving pixels on a screen they have a right to draw porn of it because it’s “development”.

now please keep in mind that it has been said spyro in the original games is 12 years old.

now although this doesnt tell us much. spyro is a child. he looks nothing like the other dragons in the game. hes closer in looks to the baby dragons in YotD that any of the elders. not to mention his voice is that of a child-teen. now yes. i understand that this is the original games.

“what about TLOS series you moron” you cry.

fear not. i have done some research on that as well.

in the first game of the legend of spyro series spyro is roughly 12 years old.

the wendy promotional toy that was released when the game was first out comes with a small tag that gives some insite into the characters of the TLOS series.

now feel free to accuse me of editing these pictures. but you’ll see here that they are in fact real.

so what does this tell us? well.. not much i guess. however im not stopping here.

“yea yea spyro is 12. but stupid! he’s only 12 in the first game!”

alright. sure! youre correct in that spyro is 12 for the first game. however he is also twelve for the second. the second game happens almost immediatly after the first. meaning at most spyro is 13 for half of it. along side this, cynder is also the same age as him. same goes for sparx.

“well, but those arent DotD!”

You are correct! They arent! however they give us a clue on how old spyro, cynder and sparx are in the third game!

this comment on a game forum mentions that spyro is 15 in the third game.

“but lolbit you fuggin gnome! some dumb forum doesnt mean anything!”

Once again you are correct! it does not. however the poster on the forum is right. spyro is fifteen as per mentioned in this screenshot of the actual dialogue of the third game.

hunter mention 3 years having passed. which would mean spyro, cynder and sparx are in fact 15. 15 is not an adult. You should not be depicting a minor in sexual situations EVER. you should not be “aging up” a character for nsfw art. and you ESPECIALLY should not be doing this when you are a 23 year old. dont believe me? their Furaffinity account specifies their age here! please be warned there is NSFW art on their account.

now im sure youre asking why im throwing such a fuss over this. well dear reader, fae/fox refuses to awknowledge that they did anything wrong and they continue to argue that “its okay if theyre mature and ive written a story for them”. that of course was paraphrasing. however here is their exact words on the matter. “But when you take young characters that you love inside and out, and develop their lives and their relationships, and mold them into more mature characters (based around the premise of human emotions and sentience), that's normal.Drawing those grown characters doing mature things is normal.Projecting real life stuff onto characters, whether they're canonically only ever shown as children or as adults while working through their story, is normal.There is so much worse to harp on. “

please keep in mind that no where in this paragraph here is it mentioned that the characters are adults. they are stated to be mature. however, maturity does not = age. it means your maturity mentally. spyro is extremelly mature for a 15 year old. he saves the world and handles the fact that he was plucked from his home before he was hatched and was raised by a family that was not his blood family even though he is still a child. a MINOR. cynder handles her corruption and the fact that she was used as a tool for an evil master as well as she can. she’s extremelly mature for her age. but again, she is only 15.

now of course im expecting that legendary comment of

“dumpass. theyre fictional. duhhhh. they aren’t real”

and to you my dear friend I have some links for you to read. i personally would never be able to sum it up in words the way these posts have. here are some links about why fiction does in fact = reality at times.(and thank you to Jade for allowing me to use their blog for these links!)

click here, here, here, and here

now that youre done reading those, im going to analize the post created by fox/fae and discuss some of the points they made.

the first part i analized earlier im going to bring back again for one more talk.

“When i drew that picture of Spyro and Cynder, it came from a place of love and strong feelings.If someone draws art of those two as adults being more raw and wild, with the intent of just doing that as part of their story, that's normal! I can imagine Cynder growing into the type who is a little domineering in the sack, whilst Spyro would be more submissive and tender/attentive.These thoughts, through development and story when you treat characters as actual characters and not as pieces of meat, is fine.”

lets break this apart.

it does not matter if it came from a place of love. what you’re literally saying is you had strong feelings to draw spyro and cynder having sex. thats the raw of it. and yes. it is normal and okay if you would like to draw two consenting adults in a time of intimacy. however you did not draw two adults. theyre children. minors.

“But when you take young characters that you love inside and out, and develop their lives and their relationships, and mold them into more mature characters (based around the premise of human emotions and sentience), that's normal.“

i already discussed the maturity thing. you have not yet called them adults. you said mature. which more or less translates to “im too scared to admit that i didnt age them up. theyre still minors in the picture”. this is scurting around the problem rather than addressing it. and no im not addressing the next part of the paragraph. no one asked your personal views on how tender and soft a literal minor would be during intercourse. and again. they are minors. the characters are portrayed as humanistic and sentient. and fae/fox agrees on that. that is one thing they are right for.

however. that doesn’t erase all else that they’ve done. next.

“Someone even got mad that i hid the comments and acted like i hid the person who accused me only, but really i hid everyone's comment.Save for one from each of two of my friends, which were not hidden because i found them encouraging/interesting.Those are hidden now, though. I hid my comments, too, and part of me hiding that stuff helps protect 1. the commenter and secondly, i just hate looking at all of that sometimes.I counted and there are 20 hidden comments in my section.There will probably be more later. Do you know how embarrassing that is for me?I genuinely hate drama, but damn if i won't defend myself when i know my truth and someone challenges it. If it weren't for the nice things people said to me, i would just disable comments all together and wipe the slate clean, but i guess this has shown me i value the love i receive more than the hate, even if it leaves a scar on my work -- or even my attitude.”

hoo boy. alright.

alright. this is a blatant lie. they have blocked a decent amount of comments but they are lying when they say they only kepts up a few friends. not to mention they say they deleted those after. there are far more comments than 2 from a few friends.

(its scribbled out cause you can actually see the art behind it. which is still nsfw)

“I hid my comments, too, and part of me hiding that stuff helps protect 1. the commenter and secondly, i just hate looking at all of that sometimes.I counted and there are 20 hidden comments in my section.There will probably be more later.”

although yes they did hide some of their comments in order to remove the whole chain its extremelly hard to believe that this is out of a place of safety for the commenter. because they left my comment up and allowed a friend of their to comment on it as well. along side this they blocked me so i couldn’t defend myself either.

and now this isnt me jumping to a conclusion. my comment is from 10 hours ago. thats a lot of time to delete a comment.

“Do you know how embarrassing that is for me?I genuinely hate drama, but damn if i won't defend myself when i know my truth and someone challenges it. If it weren't for the nice things people said to me, i would just disable comments all together and wipe the slate clean, but i guess this has shown me i value the love i receive more than the hate, even if it leaves a scar on my work -- or even my attitude.”

this is a long one but i feel it fits together well enough to analize it all together. but ohhh man. it sure is embarassing to have to hide the comments that are accusing you of drawing CP huh? it really is embarassing? because you hate drama right?. listen. it doesnt matter if its embarassing to you. you drew nsfw art of child characters. and now youre upset that you have to go through and hide the comments of people calling you out for it. do you realize how outlandish that is? and oof. listen. the fact that you wanna “wipe the slate clean” and “disable comments” to hide from the fact that people are calling you out, rather than admitting this and deleting the piece shows that you are quick to hide and shove all of this under the rug rather than addressing it. and as for that last comment. listen... you sticking your fingers in your ears and yelling rather than addressing peoples concerns and listening to their criticism is not you valuing love over hate. its you refusing to awknowledge your misdoings and pretending youve done nothing wrong. thats a horrible mentality to have. and of course this is going to leave a scar on your work. you drew CP and refused to awknowledge it even after people brought it to your attention.

“I know in my heart of hearts what is right and what is wrong, i know what is justifiable and what isn't.I'm not sitting here trying to justify what i drew because i know it's not wrong, but i want it to be known that i am damn sad that someone who said they've "supported me for a few years" suddenly, over one picture they didn't like/didn't understand, chose to accuse me of basically drawing child pornography -- which is a major and very dangerous accusation, by the way, fought me over it, told me to "die mad," and then blocked me . If that were some random troll running by shitting on my art i'd be angry, but after some words i'd just block them and move on.But when a watcher or someone who has enjoyed my work just totally thrashes me or automatically loses faith in/respect for me, it hurts.Yes, it hurts!I'm not made of stone, i'm not used to this level of drama.I hate conflict. It hurts.But i once said i want to go far and wide with my passion, and that's gonna mean taking some low blows along the way.It's just something i have to learn to deal with like an adult.”

once again im going to go through this and explain why its... oh so wrong.

“I know in my heart of hearts what is right and what is wrong, i know what is justifiable and what isn't.I'm not sitting here trying to justify what i drew because i know it's not wrong “

you telling yourself you did nothing wrong and refusing to awknowledge peoples criticisms of you isnt you knowing in your “heart of hearts” that youre right. its you being ignorant to peoples concerns. and how do you know its not wrong? because you say so? because your friends say so? people have addressed this issue by giving you facts and explanations on why its wrong and you deleted these comments. that isnt right at all.

“but i want it to be known that i am damn sad that someone who said they've "supported me for a few years" suddenly, over one picture they didn't like/didn't understand, chose to accuse me of basically drawing child pornography -- which is a major and very dangerous accusation, by the way, fought me over it, told me to "die mad," and then blocked me . ”

Listen. these people who supported you are sad that you’re defending drawing CP. you arent the victim in this scenario. you have no right to be sad when you actively chose to draw this. it is all your doing that these people have removed their support for you. as have I. these people are not to blame because they are disgusted that you drew something like this. and we are aware this is dangerous and a major accusation. however it is true. what you have drawn, by definitions, is CP. and now i hate to be this person. but you deleted all the comments. so there really isnt proof of this. i hate to pull that card but honestly.. this is the definiton of “pics or it didn’t happen”

“If that were some random troll running by shitting on my art i'd be angry, but after some words i'd just block them and move on.But when a watcher or someone who has enjoyed my work just totally thrashes me or automatically loses faith in/respect for me, it hurts.Yes, it hurts!I'm not made of stone, i'm not used to this level of drama.I hate conflict.”

once again. you’re to blame for this. you are playing a pity card yet you drew ths. the whole “it hurts me too” arguement is null. It doesnt work. you drew the art and chose to defend it. you have no right to be upset when people voiced their concerns about it. and conflict wouldnt arise if you actually listened to peoples concerns about this rather than immediately blocking them and playing the victim card.

“It hurts.But i once said i want to go far and wide with my passion, and that's gonna mean taking some low blows along the way.It's just something i have to learn to deal with like an adult.”

first of all you dont need to get poetic here. you drew CP, got called out for it and then made a post crying about it all. and if your passion is drawing porn of spyro and cynder, children characetrs, then youre not a good person. and if you defending CP is really when youre going to act like an adult then you clearly have the wrong priorities.

“I'm not some perfect martyr out to try and prove i can't do any wrong.Hell those of you who watch my side account have seen my ass a LOT, and you've also seen me try to grow from it when i'm wrong.I should not have given that commenter the gratification of pissing me off so much, but it happened.I didn't exactly blow my top, but it's still something i ought to get a handle on because i know this won't be the last time someone harasses me.”

heres the thing. the only people who can vouch for you here are your followers who are defending your actions here. you can’t use your side account as an excuse of “ive grown as a person” when the account isnt public and no one has access to it other than those who you select to. and on the second part. listen. youre 23. youre over the legal age in the states and i believe everywhere else. youre a grown adult. and if you consider people saying “youre disgusting for drawing CP and defending it” as harassment then you truely do need to grow up. you shouldnt be praised for not freaking out at people for calling you out on this kind of stuff.

“As i told someone else who's barked at me, it would also be hella wrong if one character was an adult and was a child and i aged the child up so they could fuck.I HATE that shit.That to me is wrong and weird, but here they're the same age, as adults. To me, it's not weird.Honest to God the worst/weirdest age thing i ever got swept away by was ZaDr, and i've been thinking about that lately and am considering at some point going back and throwing in head canon and trying to make it better so that it isn't "nasty”. I've gotten smarter and wiser since then.So there's definitely some hypocritical material in my folders, too, and i'll go ahead and admit that.I was younger and stupider at the time, but trust me when i say i never have looked at a child character and thought of them sexually.Ever.It's wrong.”

alright first im going start by saying this is in reference to my comment. now when refering to someone, when youre trying to earn peoples pity and understanding, you shouldnt jump to insult them. i wasn’t barking aat you. i was addressing your behaviour. and now. this is the first spot youve addressed them being “adults” in your art. every other time you mention it you call them mature which is a cop out. its only when you’re finally addressing the exact issue that you start to state how you are depecting them as adults. which, aging up a character for porn is still wrong. (which i will explain a bit better after im done this). and also you arent to be praised for seeing that as wrong. thats a normal response. no one was asking if you see it as wrong. and most people assume that until stated otherwise, this is the norm. most people see that as disgusting.

now you say to you it isnt weird. listen. to you it isnt weird because its your art and you dont like being called out for drawing CP. do you see what im getting at? now also i dont know what you’re talkign about here so i wont address it incase i get the wrong impression and speak out of line, however you say you’ve never looked at a child character sexually. yet you drew cynder and spyro intimately. understand this. aging up a character doesnt mean you look at the character in a more adult light. it means you’re attempting to justify to youself and make yourself feel better and safer on the idea of the character having sex. which. is. wrong.

im not addressing the last two paragraphs on the journal as it is just them praising their followers for praising them, however i will address their comment ont their art piece.

“ And since apparently some people don't understand this, S/C are 18+ here.If anyone ever assumes i would draw children having sex, i swear to God... “

from what i can tell this was a saveface. they put this comment once they censored the piece. their fA has the piece as well and they dont address the age of the characters. which means that this was just added on to prevent them from the issues being addressed by commenters.

now from what i can tell. their AU doesnt really exist apart from some world building. i couldnt find a long detailed AU where the characters were aged up and lived a life. the only time ive found them mentioning the AU is when they talked about the art piece. whats that mean? it doesnt really exist. not publicly atleast. which means the “AU” could entirely just mean its an excuse to draw porn of the characters. now that last bit sounds like me picking for straws i understand. however it is very possible. heres a post that explains why its not good to age up characters. (understand that im aware the post is discussing and age gap however it addresses some good points)

heres the post

now if you read it you’ll see this part. “ aging up is taking two characters who would have an inappropriate relationship in canon, seeing their relationship as romantic, and then aging them up because you want some way for them to be together. and in that way you’re romanticizing a relationship between the two characters you saw in canon, and that’s not okay”. now i want oyu to pay attention to this part. “in that way you’re romanticizing a relationship between the two characters you saw in canon, and that’s not okay.”

you’re taking characters you saw in canon, and changing them to fit your view in a way that the public would deem okay. You’re taking something you saw in canon, in this case two children who seem at the most mildly puppy lovish (like a play ground crush), and you’re manipulating it so that you can view the canon relationship in a less taboo way. like i said earlier, aging up a character doesnt mean you look at the character in a more adult light. it means you’re attempting to justify to youself and make yourself feel better and safer on the idea of the character having sex. aging a character up doesn’t change the way you view them or their relationships. no matter how much you insist you are smarter than most and you really do view the character as an adult, you dont. thats bull.

now onto some smaller stuff that they didnt because wow. iconic i guess..

although i usually block out names this is a gross mentality. the entire comment is disgusting. and at the end “i would love to see some more sexy spyro x cynder from you” solidifies it. not to mention that fae/fox is essentially encouraging it. saying they will continue to draw it. meaning they havent learned anything from this experience. youre 23 dude.

and now some abliesm

“but lolbit you stupid bafoon. they didnt say anything themself. duuuhhh”

yes im aware. here they are saying it themself.

ahh.. gotta love that... really gotta hammer in that sparkling personality of theirs.

TD;LR foxdragonlover on deviantart, FaeFierceVulpine on furaffinity and onefiercefox here on tumblr drew cynder and spyro nsfw art (which classifies as CP) and then defended their art all the while blocking people who called them out for it. they claimed it featured 18 plus characters only after they were called out for it. they then made a post about it essentially crying about it and pinning the blame on those who called them out for it. They are a 23 year old. they’ve also said some abliest stuff and have just generally been nasty.

anyway i cant believe i did this. this post is huge and im so sorry. i didnt intend for it to be that big. i wanted to be as detailed as possible and make sure i touched on everything i could. now its 3 am and im tired. if anything looks wrong tell me and i’ll change it. i may address their comment to me later (the comment in the starting pictures). im outa energy

#cp mention #r slur #callout #important #long post #CDL

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daryljdugdale · 2 years

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How can it possibly be 6 months this week my lover left me ?

I struggle that it’s half a fucking year since I held my Dazzerman or kissed him or talked with him about how proud the kids made us. It feels like a shorter time fame in some ways but it also feels way too long . Grief is my constant companion. On 26th May 2021 I lost my husband, my best friend, my confidante, the father to our children, and my lover. Dazzer was so much more than this and I know his passing has caused lots of us distress. I did not prepare for his passing as we managed to trick ourselves to think he would survive. Daryl could only cope with that however cancer doesn’t play by our rules and as you know Daryl James Dugdale came home to us this week in May and he died in my and Zak and Ede’s arms watched by his dear family and friends and Alice and TJ. In an instant our world changed and not for the better. 6 months ago I was married, cherished and so loved. Daryl told me this even on the day he died even though fucking cancer had robbed him of his voice. He raised his eyebrows and made a smile when I told him I loved him.I cant explain how dignified he was in death just as he was in life as a man, as a dad and as he was as a cousin, uncle, brother-in law, nephew and as a son and a brother and friend, teacher or collegue.

I am now single, alone and grieving. The days pass but the feelings don’t and it gets harder. I am told there are stages of grief including shock, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, acceptance and they also say the first year is the hardest because the markers of the “firsts” come along. The past 6 months have brought our firsts like our wedding anniversary, mine and Zaks birthday, first gig, first shop, first holiday, first pub and soon it will be the first Christmas and New Year without my loved one. Daryl bloody loved Christmas. He adored the cheese, the lights, the wine , the cheesy songs and the films. At present I cant even bother seeking out the John Lewis advert although for Daryl I brought the Good housekeeping Christmas edition - Daryls guilty pleasure. I guess he would be laughing at me I’m telling you this. I brought it but it remains unopened at present.

So the pain of losing him is as sharp as it was on the day he died but I am not feeling so numb I am not crying as easily, and I am beginning to accept that he’s not going to walk through the front door one last time. Thats a bit of a lie as I have cried non stop this week for some reason. As the days go by I know there will be more emotions to deal with. My counsellor confirms grief isn’t linear and that it doesn’t follow a timeline and it’s very personal. I can safety say he’s right when he confirms it comes in waves with lulls in between.I am beginning to accept time will not heal nor will the pain go but I can have nice moments which I didn’t believe would be possible 6 months ago. Counselling is helping me to accept this is okay and it is certainly what Daryl would have wanted for me and the kids and his family . I remember always as we had terrible scan results our wellbeing was always his main concern. He never complained and took what he could out of each second of every day. I am aware via counselling that our love endures even with Daryl’s death. I truly feel his love guides me and gives me strength even when I can truly say I wish I was not alive.

So I now head into the next 6 months or another 4380.005 hours before 26 th May 2022 knowing I need to learn to live with and adjust to my loss. Whilst its easier to let my emotions run my life I have to work through those emotions. And I’m trying to go easy on myself to allow myself . It is bloody exhausting feeling numb, sad, angry, lonely a great deal of the time. Somedays it is overwhelming. I am trying to learn to take care of myself and my physical health. It takes work to take care of ourselves by eating well, exercising, and trying to get a good night’s sleep. I do try my best not to drown my sorrow by drinking excessively although its tempting just to drink too much to get through. Alcohol has always had a place in our relationship and it would be easy to self medicate but I know deep down this is not a healthy way to deal with loss. As we go forward into the next phase I will try to keep my life balanced with healthy choices.I will try to start reading again and watching the programmes we loved. I will try and continue to go out and I have stated to tell people more about what I need. My counselling has helped here and I need connectivity on all levels with people not just over a bottle or 2 of wine. I am trying to lean on my family and friends and ask for help. I am aware a good support group is a significant component for our mental health so please ask and include me in your plans. However its all too easy to turn inward after the death of a loved and as a shy introvert its hard to put myself out there but I know I need to surround myself with people. I have recently felt I could slip into the downward spiral of depression or hopelessness and I don’t want this for myself nor add to my children distress further.

My days are now full of navigating life without my Daz and I think the next 6 months will be about learning how to redefine and recreate a purposeful meaningful life as a single. Its not what I want as I was so happy being part of a couple and I loved being married. I loved my husband. I loved all things great and small about being half of that perfect dynamic duo. I am now by myself and now i have to figure out how to be happy without him. I have to learn new social skills as a single. I have to learn how to fit in, get out of the house, and pursue something meaningful all on my own. I have lots of work to do and it’s very scary trying to figure out a new direction. Its hard to move forward without Daz but I must. There is no such thing as closure with the loss of a loved one. I now understand when others write with grief you do not only mourn the loss of a loved one but you morn yourself. I am trying to get to know myself as a different person. I understand completely that grief isn’t about moving on however it is about moving forward one step at a time. My beautiful man I love you with all my heart and we will celebrate christmas just as you would have wanted us too even cooking one of those good housekeeping recipes when I feel strong enough to look at them. The photo is the last photo you took us both of us 3 days before you died. You were so beautiful . I will come and see you this week and sit on the bench beside your grave and drink a glass of bubbles to celebrate you and our life togther xxx

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a-splash-of-stucky · 6 years

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I Know This Game | Seven

Pairings: Bucky x Foster!Reader

Summary: You can’t sleep, so you decide to get a few things off your chest.

Warnings: Some language. Mention of nightmares. Emotional turmoil. A whole lot of confusion. Brief mentions of sex.

Notes: I wanted this part to be very real, so it’s been minimally edited - I pretty much just typed it out in one go and rolled with it. Apologies for any typos and sorry if it’s hard to follow, that’s kinda what I was going for. I nearly made myself cry a couple of times, there.

Personally, this is my fave chapter.

IKTG Masterlist

You’re sprawled out on your bed, willing sleep to take you back into its clutches and give you a few more hours of mind-numbing blankness. But, after that nightmare, your brain is far too wired, far too riled up for sleep to even be a possibility. In the darkness, your mind flits back and forth between your memories of that fateful day, and the exaggerated dream version of those events. You’re simultaneously wide awake and utterly exhausted — but it’s the kind of fatigue that sleep cannot cure, which only drains more of your energy. The combination of hyper-awareness and weariness is dizzying, causing nightmare and memory to overlap and mesh into one another, distorting your perception of what is truth and what is a twisted concoction created by your overworked mind.

With a groan, you roll off your bed and slump onto the floor, dragging the blanket around your trembling shoulders as you curl into a tight ball. The room suddenly begins to feel overly constrictive, as if the walls are caving in on you. It’s too stuffy, the silence deafeningly loud — your senses are being overwhelmed by the still of night.

You need to get out.

You heave yourself up and stumble over to your dresser — tripping over the corner of your rug along the way — to pull out some clothes. Blindly, you root around in your drawers and grab the first things your fingers close around: a pair of jeans, and what feels like an oversized sweater. Your purse is by the foot of your bed, and from it, you grab your phone, keys and some cash that you stuff into your back pocket.

The dull red light of your alarm catches your eye as you’re about to leave your room. Its digital display tells you that it’s 3.56AM. You’re supposed to be heading to your clinic at 8 to squeeze in some work in before meeting with a patient. You already know that you’re probably not going to be performing at your best during that session.

The smell of rain is fresh in the air when you step outside -- that clean, damp odour that does wonders to invigorate your spirits. Puddles litter the sidewalk, reflecting the city night lights, making them glimmer and sparkle prettily. You find it quite ironic that you’re in such peaceful surroundings, as they are a sharp contrast to the chaos roiling internally.

You walk with no direction or purpose in mind.

Remnants of your terrible dream still linger in your head, and though you try as hard as you can, you’re unable to shake them off. A few images in particular come back to taunt you, over and over again: the way way Bucky had smiled, so familiar yet strange; how perfect he had looked with Natasha’s legs slung over his shoulders, and the detached coldness in Steve’s eyes. These twisted images haunted you in your sleep and now they torment you whilst you’re awake. You can’t help but try to analyse what they all might mean, why your mind decided to conjure them up.

Though the nightmare was obviously a tad melodramatic, you see the parallels between it and reality. Everything you’d come to accept as truth, all the pillars of support you came to depend on had crumbled beneath you, the foundations they were built upon having been weakened by the lies fed to you by people you thought you could trust. The sense of betrayal, coupled with the feeling that everyone seems to be against you leaves a sour aftertaste that you can’t get rid of.

There’s a park not too far from your apartment, and that seems to be where your feet are carrying you. It’s not particularly large, but there’s a bench in the shadows of an oak tree that for some reason, is especially nice to sit on. It’s your go-to place for when your mind is as restless as it is now.

You try not to think about the fact that you used to take Bucky and Steve here on days out, sharing with them one of your favourite places in the world.

The bench is a bit damp from the rain, so you pull off your jacket and spread it out so that you can sit on it. You close your eyes and focus on breathing deeply, grounding yourself in the moment by listening intently to the bustle of the city around you; the distant wail of a siren, the yowling of alley cats, the various creaks and groans coming from the buildings in the near vicinity. It’s a symphony that you’ve grown up listening to, and it never fails to put your nerves at ease.

But, though coming outside for a breath of fresh air has helped to take the edge off the pain inside you, you still feel as if there’s a weight pressing down on your chest. Your mind is in turmoil because you have too many images, too many memories, too many disconnected thoughts floating around. It’s giving you a headache. You need to take part of it out -- mentally unload in some way.

You reach into your back pocket and pull out your phone, deciding to take a page out of your own book. You often encourage your patients to keep a log of things they’d like to say to people. Who those people are doesn’t really matter — they could be ex-captors, estranged children, fallen comrades, or a whole range of others. Even if the intended recipient never gets to hear those words, the act of writing out the things they’d like to say does wonders for the tortured soul. You figure you have a few things to say to Bucky.

You bring up your notes app, settle back into the bench and begin typing. The words come to you with surprising ease. It’s as if you’ve been subconsciously blocking a river of words all this time and now, freed from your mental dam, they come pouring through.

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Hey Bucky,

Okay, I’ll be honest, I got no idea what the fuck I’m doing here. You’re probably never even gonna read any of this, anyway, but it can’t hurt to say any of it to you, right? Well, not actually say it to you, but a girl can imagine, can’t she?

God, that’s off to a great start. I feel as lost as you probably did when I introduced you to the induction cooker in your room at the compound. Holy shit, your face, Bucky, when I told you that that was a stove. I’ll never not laugh at it. If I’m ever having a bad day, thinking about your expression then always brings a smile to my lips. I can best describe it as a mixture of absolute cluelessness, mild horror and a little bit of curiosity. Yeah, it was a weird mix of emotions. That’s kinda what I feel like right now — a jumbled ball that’s feeling too much.

I can’t sleep, Buck. It’s 4.12AM, I have a client to see in about five hours, and I’ve only slept for six— and you know what I’m like if I don’t get a solid seven. I can’t function as a human, let alone a professional therapist. Things aren’t looking too great right now.

Can I tell you about my day? You’re not here to answer that, so I’m gonna just assume you said something like “Of course, babydoll,”. Actually, I just realised — it was technically my yesterday, but I’m gonna tell you about it nonetheless.

It was a day sent to me straight from hell, courtesy of the Devil himself. Honestly, it was the weirdest string of events to happen, ever.

So first off, after work, I got this email from Christine Everhart. You remember her, right? She was that reporter you said you wanted to strangle with your metal hand after that press conference about Tokyo. I sympathise with your urges; the bitch wanted to talk to me about working with the Avengers. I mean, that in and of itself is not enough to piss me off, I guess, bc curiosity is part of human nature, right? But god, the way she said it made me want to be sick, Bucky. I didn’t reply, obviously, but I wonder if it would damage my reputation so terribly if I just sent her a little ‘fuck you’.

Oh, and then Jane called me. I kinda forgot about that. I hadn’t properly talked to her in a while. She and Darcy invited me and the girls on a trip to Bali, can you believe it? If you know me well enough, you’ll know that I said no. Maybe I’ll change my mind later. A vaycay on the beach does sound pretty much like what the doctor ordered, even if the doctor is myself. Can you give yourself orders?

You know what Jane asked me? She asked if I still love you.

I told her ‘yes’.

It’s confusing, Bucky. I love you, but not in the same way I used to love you. Sometimes I wish the English language had more versions of the word ‘love’, because it’s way too ambiguous of a word. I say ‘I love you’ to Jane, but I don’t mean that I love her the same way I love Peggy, or Wanda, or you, y’know?

But, I digress. I was telling you about my day, no? So. After I got off work, I went over to Loki’s house. Who’s Loki, you ask? My new boyfriend. Actually, he’s technically my new ex-boyfriend, now (more on that later), but at the time, he was my boyfriend and I was heading to his house.

Are you following with this story? Am I even making any sense? Bear with me, okay? I’m sleep deprived and losing touch with reality right now.

Yes. So, Loki’s place.

I turned on the TV, and guess who the fuck I saw? None other than our very own Capsicle and his two goons, Birdman and Sparky Butt. How are they, by the way? Did Tony make Sam those new wings he’s been going on about? It was a news clip about them in Bangkok. When I saw those three on screen, I—I started thinking about when I went to see them, after I saw you and Nat together. You only came in towards the end, so I don’t know how much you know about the little exchange that went on between the four of us. I got no idea what Steve and Sam and Tony have told you (or, as the case may be, neglected to tell you), but I know for certain one thing they couldn’t have told you was my version of things.

I was so hurt, Buck, so betrayed. I want you to know that me deciding to leave the compound was not just your fault. The whole team has some blame to take. I felt so betrayed, Bucky, like everyone was in on a secret that I was not even aware of. It made me wonder how many more secrets there were, how many more there would be, if I decided to stay. I couldn’t live with any of that, Buck, so I ran. I left. Maybe I should’ve stayed to talk to you, but—I was hurt, okay? They talk about people stabbing you in the back? This was more like someone was driving a dozen swords into me from all directions. I was bleeding out everywhere, Buck. I was wounded, in every sense of the word. I can’t—

Okay, enough about that, I think you get the picture.

Back to Loki.

We had sex. You might wonder why I’m telling you this, I’m sure it’s not something you exactly want to hear, but it’s important. When he was…going down on me, I went off into my head. In the moment, I called him your name, by accident. He was pissed off, to say the least. We still went at it, but—I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Buck, and how we used to do things. That happened earlier as well. Not the me calling him ‘Bucky’ by accident, part, but the thinking about you bit. When he said ‘hi’ to me by the door, he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my cheek. I don’t know why, but my mind was just reminded of you. When we were talking, my thoughts were of you. I just can’t stop thinking about you, today. Yesterday. Whatever.

And then, ho ho, this is the best shit ever. You’d think my night couldn’t get worse, right? Oh, but it’s me, of course it can. I was gonna borrow his phone to set an alarm, and what do I discover? That he’s been cheating on me with this girl called Sharon! Naturally, I broke things off with him. Hence why, he is now my ex. We weren’t together that long, actually, just five months. I met him about three weeks after left the compound. I know, so soon, right? I rushed into it, Bucky—don’t think I was over you that fast. I…I used him as a way to forget about you, not as a way to replace you.

I could never replace you, love.

So then I went home, and Peggy and Wanda tried to get me to talk, but I was so tired, I just went to bed. They’re both pissed off at you, by the way. I was in pieces when I left you, and they had to somehow put me back together. Even now, I don’t think I’m all here. I think you’re holding on to some of me, Buck, and I don’t know whether I want you to keep those pieces of me or not. It’s like I can never be whole without you.

I had a nightmare, Bucky. You—I don’t want to go into the details, ‘cause it’ll make you cry, and then that’ll make me cry, and that’s no good for anyone. But, in a nutshell, it was about you…and Nat. It was about that day I found out, except a billion times worse, exaggerated in dream-world, right? And I just got really shaken up by it. I was so weirded out, I had to get out of my room. And…that’s how I ended up here, on a park bench at 4.19AM and typing my heart out to you.

Remember how we used to keep your nightmares away?

That first time it happened, I think Steve was gone. If I remember correctly, he was on a mission in Germany. I heard you screaming from down the hall Bucky, and it wasn’t the first time you’d done that, but it was the first time it went on for that long. Then I remembered that Steve was gone — in fact, I think it might’ve just been you and me at the compound, bc I’m pretty sure Nat and Sam went with him — so there wouldn’t be anyone else to wake you up. Now, some people might say that I was doing it to help you, but really, I was just helping myself, y’know? I need my sleep. You tell yourself whatever you want, but I’m being completely serious with you, Bucky, I was only helping myself. Not.

You were so scared when I first came in. Thought I should go away because you might accidentally stab me or something. I never told you this, but in the morning, I found a little bruise on my upper arm, from when your metal hand hit me. Completely by accident! And it was gone in a few days, I barely even noticed it. Don’t you dare beat yourself up about it, Barnes. I know you’ve got those puppy-dog ‘I’m sorry’ eyes right now, cut it out.

Anyway, that’s how Nightmare NightsTM began. You’d have a nightmare, I would cautiously wake you up, and then we’d head out to the lounge to watch a movie and have hot chocolate with extra marshmallows because you have the biggest sweet tooth of anyone I know. Sometimes we’d talk, but mostly — especially those first few times — you just wanted company, and I happily provided it for you.

You’d put your head in my lap, and I’d stroke your shoulder/neck, because you hated having people touching your head back then. I don’t know what we watched, usually. I don’t even know if you were watching, or if you went back to sleep. I had a tendency to doze off, didn’t I?

Eventually, the location shifted from the lounge to my room. I forget why we had to move. Or maybe one of us suggested it. Do you remember why, Bucky? Anyway, we set something up on the TV in my room, and that was the first night we snuggled together in a bed. In the back of my mind, I remember thinking that this was a breach of every single professionalism protocol I had established for myself, but I rationalised it by saying that you were a special case. I know you hate being called that, but you can’t deny the fact that your situation was unique, at least to me. Haven’t had to deal with a person like you ever before — and by that, I mean someone who’s had a wholly new identity engineered for them — and hopefully I won’t have to ever again.

Anyway, we slept together for the first time that night. And all I remember thinking is that I wouldn’t mind doing it again. You told me it was the best sleep you’d had in months and I knew that I wanted to help you get that as often as possible. How’re you sleeping now, Buck? Is someone keeping you company? Is Steve back on nightmare watch?

I don’t know why I still care about you. Sometimes I get mad at myself for caring about you. Other times, I’m just sad.

Okay, we’re getting into sappy territory, now. Do not hold me accountable for anything my crazed mind decides to spew out.

You’re beautiful, Bucky, you know that? You may not think you’re gorgeous, but I do. And your heart’s beautiful as well — though maybe not the way I thought it was. I know you’re trained to be a liar, but I also know that there’s some things you just can’t fake. There’s kindness in that big ‘ol heart of yours. HYDRA tried to take that away from you, but they didn’t succeed. Maybe they suppressed it, temporarily, but that kindness, that enormous capacity for generosity, that ability and desire to put everyone else’s needs before yours — that’s all you, Bucky. Winter Soldier or not, your kindness is what makes you James Buchanan Barnes, through and through.

So why am I here talking about your kindness, even though you dragged my heart through hell and then some? Honestly, I don’t know. Love makes you blind, I realised, but I think when it comes to you, love also makes me numb to the pain. Or, perhaps more accurately, it increases my tolerance for it. You’ve hurt me, yes, more so than anyone ever has, but—I don’t hate you for it. I don’t think it’s possible for me to hate you. Whatever we had was something special, to me, and…and no matter how badly I’m hurt—it’s like I said. Some things you can’t fake. You’re a good person, Bucky. I know you are.

God, I’m rambling all over the place, aren’t I? I hope you don’t mind. I haven’t talked to you in a long time, so I’ve got things to say. Plus, I’m in a weird mood, and you, of all people, know how chatty I get when I’m like that. It’s bloody 4.22AM, I should be asleep, for fuck’s sake.

I miss a lot of things about you, Buck.

I miss talking to you, Bucky. Of all the things we used to do together, talking was, sadly enough, my favourite. I love the sound of your voice. Notice the tense there: present. It’s true. I still love it. Nothing can change that. It’s one of the sweetest melodies my ears have ever had the pleasure to listen to.

I miss the way you smiled at me, like I was the only person that mattered to you in this entire world, like if everything came crashing down around us, you’d still run to save me first. Was that all a lie, Bucky? Did you mean anything you said?

I miss holding you. There was just enough of you to make me feel safe, enough of you for me to drape my body over. I’d give anything to have that again, to go back to that time when I didn’t know. I’d kiss you so good, love, better than I’ve ever done it before. Kiss your pillowy soft lips so tender, ‘cause Lord knows you haven’t had enough tenderness in your life. I wanna make you melt into the bed, Bucky, make you feel like you’re floating on the softest cloud in the sky. I’d run my hands all over your body, kiss all your scars, make sure you know just how gorgeous you are. I’d touch you like you’re as delicate as a china plate. I want to feel that intimacy again. When we had sex, it was more than just the physical connection for me, Bucky. It was like my soul had found its other half.

I want to be whole again.

I forgot how much lonelier it is to sleep in a bed without you next to me. Even when I was with Loki, I felt lonely. It’s like my body has gotten used to having you next to me, and it’s not going to settle for any lesser substitute. How have you been sleeping, Bucky? I know it was always hard for you to get to sleep. Is it the same for you, love, do you miss me? Or…do you have another body next to you to keep you warm? I hope you haven’t, but at the same time, I hope you have. I’ll not begrudge you your happiness, Buck.

Would’ve gave it all for you, cared for you So tell me where I went wrong Would’ve gave it all for you, cared for you

Bucky, do you remember when we played Snakes and Ladders with Steve for the first time? It was one of my first ‘alternative’ sessions with you, I remember. Steve once told me that the two of you used to be really competitive, and I thought that if we tried to recreate some of that competitiveness in a relatively safe environment, maybe we’d make some progress in terms of memory restoration. But, my oh my, I think ‘competitive’ is an understatement when it comes to the two of you. That was the first time I saw Steve visibly relaxed around you. It was the first time I saw you outright grinning, Bucky, the first time I had a ‘hallelujah we’ve gotten somewhere’ moment with you.

What went wrong, Buck? I just wanted to make you smile like that again, as many times as I could. It was one of the most breathtakingly beautiful things I’d ever seen. What’s wrong with me wanting to make you smile?

Bucky, I—how can I make you understand this? Love, I would’ve given you anything, anything I could give you and maybe a bit beyond that, just to see you happy. You deserve all the happiness in this world Bucky, after the hell you’ve been through — things I can only ever imagine. I know you don’t think you’re allowed happiness, that you’re not worthy of it, and that no matter how many times I say it, you’re never gonna believe me, but you do, sweetheart, you do.

Shit. I’ve just read the last few bits back and god, I’m all over the place. It’s 4.32AM, forgive me, okay? Do you mind that it’s so long? I have a lot to say, it seems, and this train just keeps on rolling down the hill. No idea when it’s gonna crash, bc I can’t see the bottom. I don’t know what’s waiting for me down there, but I don’t think it’s you, love.

I haven’t told you about my realisations, have I? I’ve had a few profound thoughts in the last 24 hours.

Well, after the events of yesterday, I was feeling really self-reflective, right? And I came to realise a lot of things. I won’t go into a lot of detail, because I think I still need some time to process things myself, but what I wanna tell you is that my relationships have always been the same. My love life is completely predictable. I meet a guy, we click a little (but not a lot), we have great sex, we’re happy enough with each other, and then he’ll cheat on me, or do something shady that breaks my heart and then we’re done.

You were the person to deviate from the mould, Buck. You were different, and I thought what we had was different. Did you feel the same?

I let things go so much further with you, Bucky. Ours was the longest relationship I’d ever had. I let you in in ways no one else before you had ever come close to. You saw things that I hadn’t shown anybody, not even Jane, or Wanda, or Peggy. I trusted you with pieces of myself that I didn’t want people to see; the darkest, dreariest parts of my soul. I thought…I thought you’d cherish them, that you’d see this as the privilege that it was. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to let you in? You told me that every single one of those blackened pieces was beautiful. Did you mean that?

A lot of things about how we separated broke my heart, love, but one of the things that hurts most is the way I loved you when no one else did. And, I guess, the fact that you didn’t see that. I cared for you, in ways I’d never cared for anyone before. Not just professionally, mind you, but when we got serious, too. Things were different. I was the first person, and for a while, the only person who truly loved you as you were — in your entirety, Bucky. I didn’t see the Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes as two separate entities, but two halves of the whole. I know you hate that one side of you, but someone’s gotta make you feel okay with that dark part of yourself, and I was up for the job.

Did you let me in as much as I let you in, Bucky? Did I get to see all the worst parts of you, or were there secrets you kept? I’m not angry if you kept them from me. We all have our reasons, we all need different lengths of time to get comfortable and build trust, but just know that I would tell you that you’re perfect even if you told me that you were Hitler himself reincarnated. I’d think no less of you. You could open yourself up and show me how broken and tattered your soul is, but I would show you how every single piece — battered, bruised or worse — still shone brighter than any diamond. I was (am?) in love with all of you, Bucky. If you ever read this, play that John Legend song, will you?

I think that train’s finally starting to run out of steam, now.

Yeah. My heart is broken. But…I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like it’s hanging on by a thread, you know? It’s fractured into a million different pieces, but they’re all somehow held together by the thinnest gossamer of hope. Six months later, and even though you ripped my heart out and crushed it in your metal hand, I think it still manages to beat for you.

I don’t know about forgiveness, Bucky. I might not be fully broken, but I am still broken, still feeling the pain. I don’t know the full story, of why you and Nat, well. But if I did know…well, put it this way: have I forgiven you? I don’t think so. Can I forgive you? Quite possibly.

I don’t think you’re the kind of person who’d do that to someone else. Then again, maybe I’m just a poor judge of character. Sweetheart, I—

Hang on, let me take a break, my eyes are watering too much, I can’t see the fucking screen.

Bucky…where did I go wrong? I have a lot of questions, so I’m just gonna list them all here. What made you do it? Why couldn’t you come talk to me about it? You know I would’ve helped you, right? — if Nat was who you really wanted, I would’ve let you go, you just had to ask. What…were you unhappy with me? Was I not enough? What could I have done better, love — I want to know. I need to know.

Was I wrong to trust you? Did I give you too much of myself, too soon?

A part of me wants to make things better, with you. I don’t think we’ll ever go back to what we used to be — you can’t expect me to ignore something as monumental as that, so we can’t go back to the era of innocence we were in — but maybe, something with you is better than nothing. I miss you. Miss waking up next to you, cooking with you, getting into stupid fights with you. I miss chasing your nightmares away, and making you laugh and smile and talk when all you want to do is retreat into yourself. Hopefully, when the universe decides to be kind to me, we’ll find a way into each other’s lives again. Trust each other again.

Bucky, I got something to tell you, and if you forget about everything else I’ve said here, just know this:

No one tells you when you love someone — how would they know? Now, that wouldn’t be a problem if you yourself knew that you were in love, but the thing with you and me is that I, for the longest time, didn’t know that I loved you, because the love I felt for you was unlike what I felt for anyone else. It’s not a sudden epiphany I had one day, right? I didn’t wake up one morning and just decide that I was gonna love you romantically, no. It was more like…one minute, when I examined our relationship, things were strictly professional between us, and then the next time I go to assess things, I realise that we must’ve crossed the line at some point. It was something gradual, like walking through life in slow motion — but when my dumb ass finally figured things out, it was like…life made sense, y’know?

But on the same note, no one tells you when you stop loving someone. They can maybe tell you when to stop, but only you can decide for yourself when you’ve actually done the stopping — subtle difference, there. Because, Bucky, love, here’s the thing: I don’t think I’ve ever stopped loving you.

You look up from your phone, then, to take in the view. Physically, hardly anything has changed; you’re still confronted by the same row of bushes and shrubs, the same buildings in the distance and the same coating of water enshrouds all that it touches. But somehow, things are almost intangibly different — and that comes down to the fact that your heart feels lighter. The weight is no longer crushing your chest so hard you can’t breathe, the burden on your shoulders has somehow been made more manageable. That confession is true, and acknowledging the truth makes you feel lighter than air. You still have a few more things to say, though.

I’ve…never let things get as far in any of my other relationships as I did with you, Bucky. And because of that, I don’t know if it’s normal, the fact that I haven’t stopped loving you even though it’s been so long. It doesn’t make sense, right? You’d think after…after what you did, I’d be hurt and hate you, right? But—something tells me that you did it for a reason. I’m just upset that you couldn’t tell me what that reason was. Of course I’m wounded, but I think someone’s perfectly capable of being wounded and being in love at the same time. Is it confusing? Most definitely. I don’t know whether I want to kiss you more, or punch you more.

Actually, punching you would probably hurt me more than it hurts you, so…

But the point is, I still have feelings for you, you jerk. I don’t know how to rebound from you if I still have feelings for you. It’s been so long, I thought it would get easier — like, I’d just learn to deal with this gaping hole in my life, this persistent, never-ending pain in my body, right? But it hasn’t gotten better. It’s only festered and sometimes it closes up, but I pick at the scab, and pull out the stitches and then my heart is bleeding out onto the floor all over again. It’s crazy, Bucky, how much you can make me feel pain without actually being here.

I don’t hate you for making me hurt; I think we’re both at fault here. I should never have fallen for you in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, love, I don’t, for even a second, regret loving you when what we had was good, I just…I hurt. And I hate being hurt. This pain in my heart, I don’t think it’s something that will ever fade. No matter what I do, or how long I wait.

I don’t know how to pick myself up from this. It’s like you pushed me down a steep-sided valley and I don’t know how to claw my way out. I thought Loki would give me a lift, but he only took me halfway, and the little ledge we were balancing on was too flimsy to support our combined weight, so I just fell in again.

I don’t know how long I have to wait before I get over you. Is it a question of if, or a question of when? No one tells you any of these things. I want someone to tell me these things.

I still love you, Bucky. And, if you truly love someone, you let them be themselves. If that means you have to let them go, so that the person can move onto better things, then that’s what you do. That’s what I’m doing. This is not my blessing, but…I’ve gained some closure, from writing this. I’m a good therapist, if I do say so myself. I haven’t moved on from you, nor have I quite forgiven you, but I’ve taken the first step to solving the problem, which is to acknowledge that it’s there in the first place. Maybe now I’ll be able to walk around without feeling like the entire world is trying to crush my heart.

Bucky, I don’t think I’ve moved on from you. I don’t know if I’ll ever move on from you. Hell, I don’t even know if I want to. And even if I did want to, love, I don’t think I’d know how. How do I move on, Bucky? Tell me how to move on and live a life without you in it?

Is is even possible?

With all my love,

Y/N

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Feeling like you’re in a marginally better headspace than when you first sat down, you slip your phone back into your pocket. You feel good. Well, as good as you can be right now, at least. You stand up and do a big stretch, working out the kinks in the back of your neck and your legs. You shake your jacket off, then sling it over your shoulders. The wind has started to pick up, and you decide to head back to the apartment and try to catch a little more sleep before you have to get to your office.

You yelp when someone smashes into you from behind. It’s a man, that much is clear. He’s big and burly, and the back of your shoulder smarts from where you’ve just crashed into him.

“Sorry, ma’am,” the man mutters, voice low and rumbly.

“It’s okay,” you reply, turning around to face him, “I should’ve watched where I was going,”.

He nods curtly. You can’t see his face, because it’s hidden by the brim of a dark baseball cap and he keeps his head ducked down, as if he wants to avoid eye contact. He’s got a leather jacket on over a henley, and his hands are jammed into his pockets. He side-steps past you. You frown. You know that voice, that jacket looks familiar, and so does his hair—

“Bucky?!” you cry in disbelief.

The man whirls around to face you. It is him. His eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Y/N,” Bucky breathes, utterly astonished.

Looks like you won’t be getting extra sleep anytime soon.

--------------------------------- Condensed tags: @feelmyroarrrr @valkyeries @hollycornish @buckingoffthebed @moonbeambucky @sanjariti @in-winchester-we-trust @badassbaker @retroasgardian @lostinspace33 @waywardpumpkin @jurassicbarnes @buchonians @katielu-blog @alohabucky @sarahmatthews7 @i-should-probably-be-asleep-rn @toongtii @barnesdeservestheworld @amrita31199 @amour-quinn @ugh-supersoldiers

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff #my writing #i know this game

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