#and i sincerely hope that each and every author i follow finds great success with their works because it is so fucking phenomenal
Note
This might be a total coincidence but are you prince lapin? Your icon is familiar from other IF discords. what are your favourite ifs??
ah shit lads ive been found out Yeah, thats me !! the hyperfixation got so strong i needed to write my own
SPEAKING OF. you have opened pandoras box. god have mercy on you. Woe, Interactive Novels be upon ye.
CHOP SHOP by @losergames
i fucking love crime. And they way everything is written? mwah. byootiful. like im watching a fucking movie.
WOLF SET FREE by @wolfsetfree-if
WULFEBOUND by @wulfebound
WEREWOLF NOIR by @canismaxim-games
BLOOD MOON by @barbwritesstuff
I AM SO GAY ABOUT WEREWOLF SHIT YOU HAVE NO IDEA.
THE EXILE by @exilethegame
I was (and am) hyperfixated on this singular game for a very very long time and my commander is the poorest little meow meow that i love repeatedly throwing against a wall and into a meatgrinder 💖
FIELDS OF ASPHODEL by @chrysanthemumgames
I am so deeply unwell over Hades. but also i never noticed the simiarities that persephone and dionysus have and it makes me go insane to think about.
THE NAMELESS by @parkerlyn
not only is my own bastard cat thing on an mc the most fun to draw, but it has reawakened my feralty over fae settings and fae creatures. also parker is just like. one of the sweetest people ever created??? illegal. how are they so nice.
THE NORTHERN PASSAGE by @northern-passage
not only am i deeply unwell about Lea, but i adore deeply inhuman mcs <- (the transgenderism speaking). I also just like. respect the hell out of kit fr. takes absolutely no bullshit. absolute inspiration.
GREENWARDEN by @fiddles-ifs
Bautista. I am unwell. do i have a type? perhaps. shut the fuck up about it. mc is deeply neurotic and a freak (complementary) (affectionate)(relatable)
SPEAKER by @speakergame
one of the BEST writers of sibling interaction, hands down. one of the first twine IFs i have ever played and god it is so fuck quality. my god.
EVERYTHING BY @heart-forge
oh my god. oooohhhh my fucking god. where do i begin. all of their projects are so fucking good and distinct. i can tell you i am unwell about trigger siruud and valerian and you could probably diagnose me with something but i dont care. i am going to fucking explode their shit is so quality.
EVERYTHING BY @pdrrook
how do they do it. no seriously how the fuck do they do it. magic? are they fae? did they sell their soul to the devil? banger project after banger project after banger project. ALL of their shit is quality AND THEY DO NOT MISS. EVER.
THE GRAND HEIST by @thegrandheist-if
BRO I FUCKING LOVE CRIME. LOVE BEING A BASTARD.
EVERYTHING BY @jaunefleurwrites
fun highschool detectives!!! :) AND THEN MY FUCKING HEART GETS SHATTERED.
LEGEND OF A SAVIOR by @legend-of-a-savior-if
THE DRAMA.....THE INTRIGUE......i loved fucked up cults. I loved fucked up shit. I hate my mom. thank u.
EVERYTHING BY @leftski-if
bro......the softness of orcs......leftski gets it. everyday i thank them for my FUCKING life. (wolfsbane has werewolf shit, and as you know i am. Gay. About. It.)
VIRTUE'S END by @virtues-end
you already fucking know who the fuck i am unwell about if you read the rest of this god damn list. dont fucking @ me. (barghest best helvling)
VENDETTA by @vendetta-if
ok hear me out guys. have i mentioned the i love crime. that i love being a nasty crime boy? well jokes on you fucker im a vigilante.
THE KING'S HOUND by @the-kingshound
Mordred is my fucking son and if anything happens to him i will kill everyone in this room and then myself.
BASTARD OF CAMELOT by @llamagirl28
the drama.....the fucking drama......my mordred, a literal ten year old has their shit together better than his fucking parents. this is my fucking soap opera. i have my fucking popcorn at the ready.
THE BALLAD OF DEVILS CREEK by @devilscreekballad
Okay no jokes, i absolutely and genuinely hope the author of this IF gets to be in a better spot financially and health wise. This IF is so fucking phenomenal and the dedication to the time period without shirking away from sensitive topics is honestly insane. i absolutely wish them the best. 🌻
And finally, what might be the first twine if i ever played-
SCOUT by @anya-dev
im crying. im scratching at the floorboards. im crawling on the walls. im barking in a cage. scout is such a fucking interesting post apoc story. the reason is unclear but at the time of the story it doesnt particularly matter. but at the same time it does so much. i want to know SO MUCH. Oliver was the fucking blueprint for my god damn brainrot.
#there are so SO many interactive fiction games that i adore that i could go on and on about but this list is already way too fucking long#i adore the if community so much and so many authors are absolute inspirations#and i sincerely hope that each and every author i follow finds great success with their works because it is so fucking phenomenal#anyway i am gushing too much and its embarrassing goodbye#princepostin#if recs
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FROM UP ON POPPY HILL - THE STRUGGLE OF YOUNG GENERATION
New Post has been published on http://www.whatsupkpop.com/from-up-on-poppy-hill-the-struggle-of-young-generation/
FROM UP ON POPPY HILL - THE STRUGGLE OF YOUNG GENERATION
FROM UP ON POPPY HILL – THE STRUGGLE OF YOUNG GENERATION
Link Video:
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As a film from the famous Ghibli production studio, “From Up on Poppy Hill” must be the best choice for those who are looking for a beautiful movie with both photo and content.
The love of school age is always a topic that makes them flutter when turning on the screen. “From Up on Poppy Hill” a rare Ghibli work on the subject. Directed by Miyazaki Gorō, son of legendary filmmaker Miyazaki Hayao. The main theme of the film is the love between Umi and Shun, a love that is both beautiful and complex.
The journey to light up “From up on Poppy hill”
From the beginning, this was a huge challenge for Miyazaki Goro, the wounded son who suffered an invisible pressure from his father, Miyazaki Hayao, who brought his life to the works. associated with our childhoods such as: Spirited Away, Howl’s moving castle, My neighbor Totoro, … Everyone expected that he was “the second Hayao”, and that expectation overcame on his shoulder a huge burden. Until his debut Tales from Earthsea was released to the public, despite being well-received and successful in terms of sales, it was a failure when the work received a lot of words. Disparaging comes from critics. And when he decided to do his second animation, but this time he was making the movie with his father, Miyazaki Hayao. This unique father-son combination led to the birth of one of the Ghibli works that I consider to be worthy of viewing, From up on the poppy hill.
This is the highest-grossing Japanese film of 2011 with the proceeds of 4.46 billions yen.If you haven’t seen From Up on Poppy Hill, enjoy the movie now. If you have seen this movie or don’t care about the spoiler, Let’s start now.
Main content
Set in 1963, in the port city of Yokohama, near Tokyo. The drama revolves around 2 main characters Umi and Shun. Umi is a 16 years old girl, energetic and courageous. She lives with her grandmother and two children in the family building, an old hospital that has been renovated to become a hostel for several girls. Umi’s daily jobs are cooking, cleaning, looking after the children and running the building while her mother is in America. The building is located on Kokuriko Hill. Every day, to commemorate her late father, who was a captain who died in the Korean War, Every morning she pulls colored flags that carry the message of asking for a safe journey for each ship.
Kazama Shun – a male student at the same school as Umi, is seen as the hero by a stunt performance to attract interest in the school newspaper – the club he joined after school. Wanting to get Shun’s signature, Sora – Umi’s sister asked her sister to come to the Quartier Latin. It is a very old building and is also the site of historical events and full of club memories. Here, Umi watched Shun and his friends devote themselves to keeping the building in danger of being dismantled. Realizing the sagging, old building of the building, Umi came up with an initiative to call the girls to come clean and renew it together.
They gradually became close to helping each other in everything. Then one day in a meeting at the house on the top of the hill, they accidentally discovered they have the same bloodline. When Shun avoided Umi, after demanding, Umi also discovered that the two were siblings.
They decided to hide their feelings and continue to be friends, and then one day, when the sun was still shining in the green bushes, Umi’s mother returned. It was also when Ryoko revealed that Shun’s biological father was Tachibana Hiroshi – the second man in the photo. In 1945, Tachibana died in a shipwreck accident. Shun’s mother passed away after giving birth to him, and relatives all died during the US atomic bombing on Nagasaki. Ryoko was unable to adopt Shun because she was pregnant with Umi, and was currently a medical student. Yūichirō issued a birth certificate for Shun in his name so that he would not have to become an orphan in the tumultuous post-war years that followed. Shun was eventually adopted by the Kazama couple. After being verified by Captain Yoshio, they rejoiced … not only because from now on being together and not worrying anymore …
The film’s success is not only based on the content, but also on the profound meaning that is meticulously incorporated in the movie
Image of dynamic and enthusiastic young people
The fact that the Quartier Latin was about to be dismantled at the behest of the district president was a challenge for the students living in the clubs in this building. Young students who are still day and night diligently devote their youth to research projects, they learn and cultivate everything outside of school, they do not hesitate to choose the difficult path of resisting directives to pursuing what they think is right.
They are willing to devote all their energies to renovating the building, which is not an individual’s work but a collective work of a team with so many enthusiastic people working. They try to the last minute, with only a little hope, the students here still make efforts to create opportunities, not easily surrendered. The trio of Umi, Shun, and Mizunuma together went to Tokyo to meet the chairman, waited patiently and bravely asked the president to visit the building before executing his dismantling instructions.
Young people working together to save the club can be a metaphor for the country’s rebirth. Together With other students, they are the embodiment of the future Japan, enthusiasm and determination, enthusiasm and optimism, passionate love and foolish youthful aspirations. touched and inspired those of the same generation. The film recreates the spirit of a time that helped that generation to rise up to revive the country, heal the wounds of war in the past, protect and preserve traditional values.
“From Up on Poppy Hill” can be said to be one of the most “Japanese” films of the Ghibli studio.Not only because the port area’s street space is faithfully reproduced in every small detail/, but also because of the strong and resilient spirit hidden in the characters’ personalities. They embody the country with determination, youthful enthusiasm and optimism for the future.
History lessons are appreciated without being cliché
Every effort comes from the thought: “… There will be no future for those who always talk about the future but forget the past …” that Shun raised in an argument between students. One detail I really like in the movie is the image of everyone singing solemnly and singing the national anthem of Japan. Never before has the atmosphere of national pride exploded so deeply, it crept into the consciousness of each student. Everything they are fighting for seems to be for the noble purpose of preserving and promoting historical and cultural values.
“Eliminating the old means erasing the memory of the past”
Actually, this statement by Shun is very correct. Always remember that history is the connection between the future and the past, there is the past, the present, and the present, the future. Thanks to the cultural identities, customs, monuments, and historical records, we can look back on our own country’s past and take it as a lesson to rise later.
Even the girls who do not join the club in the building, still spend time, effort and enthusiasm to renovate it, to give the Quartier Latin a new interface, with the desire for prices. Historical values are preserved.
The story of a group of young people fighting together to protect the old clubhouse building /with sacred memories of generations of seniors is a metaphor for Japan in its renovation towards development. /Still fighting to preserve precious traditional values. /Through these activities, they met and gradually a love between them began to arise …
The pure love of the young couple
Actually, Shun still notices and responds to the signals that Umi sends to her father every day, but because her garden is out of view, Umi has not noticed it for a long time. The author of the poem about the girl pulling the flag on the top of the hill is also written by Shun for Umi. We can feel the sincerity and very cute before the subtle vibrations integrated. The scene of Umi holding his hand during the show, the scene of Shun passing Umi down the hill to buy some evening preparations, the scene where the two of them go home together and discuss the upcoming exam, or simply keep quiet and intently together. After completing the school newspaper, all the videos are lovely and gentle.
“I like you, Shun, even though we are bloodline, even if you are my brother, my feelings won’t change” Umi’s words in the movie.
Love is like a Rose, sometimes sleep quietly, like Umi once buried in her heart … there is also a compromise between the pain, so go on or stop … /maybe expect peace , when the waves are quiet, the sea is together …/ and sometimes simple, reunited after days away. /Far away from war, distant because of obstacles, distant because of painful feelings … /but in the end, it will be as sweet as a child’s sleep, still meeting.
Family affection is always warm
Umi’s memories of her father are still standing, as evidenced by the flags she sends every day to inform her father at sea about the way back home. She still loves her father even though she is doubting Shun is his son. Or Shun’s adoptive father, who insists he always loves him like his own son, is willing to find ways to let Shun know the identity of his deceased father.
Both Shun and Umi are poor children who lost great fathers because of the war, but still cherish and are happy with their current family.
General conclusions
From Up on Poppy Hill, a work from Ghibli never disappoints from image to sound. The poetic and artistic scenes have always been the specialties for each of us, the films to feel the life, the daily activities from the beginning of the film, combined with the melodies from the composer Takebe Satoshi, has created an extreme … peaceful atmosphere.
See and feel the daily beauties of life, love and cherish our values, and constantly strive to dedicate living in accordance with the youth we currently have.
Although building a love story between two high school students in the most pure, sweet and vague way, From Up on Poppy Hill still makes us wonder, is it the ideal type of love, when two people have opposite personalities but a common desire?
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Amatonormativity 101: What it is, and why it affects you
It’s pride month, so in the spirit of fighting for social equality, I’ve decided to make a post about a phenomenon that’s frighteningly widespread, yet rarely discussed outside of certain circles: Amatonormativity.
Originally coined by Arizona State University philosophy professor Elizabeth Brake, amatonormativity refers to the cultural assumption that:
Everyone wants/needs a committed, long-term, romantic (monogamous) relationship,
That such a relationship is absolutely necessary in order to lead a properly fulfilling life, and romance is essential to one’s happiness,
That aiming for such a goal should be a major priority in one’s life,
And that this relationship should be the most important, and all other types of relationships are inherently less valuable or less intense.
Some of you may be thinking, “Well, that’s ridiculous. I know romance isn’t more important than other relationships, and I know you don’t need romance to be happy. I don’t have any amatonormativity.” Or, some of you may be thinking, “Well, that makes sense to me. Romance is the most important thing in my life, and I’d never be happy without it.”
But the truth is, amatonormativity still exists and harms you, even if you fall into one of those categories. Amatonormativity is a societal value that’s deeply embedded in western culture, and no one is immune to it. Not even me, not even Professor Brake. There’s a lot of toxicity in it, and awareness of it is the first step to overcoming it and helping to break down these harmful values.
So, where do we see amatonormativity in everyday life? Let’s start with some hypothetical scenarios as examples. Although I’m drawing from real life, please keep in mind these are hypothetical, so when I say “you” in these examples, rest assured that I am not directly accusing you personally of anything.
You’re having dinner with your extended family for the first time in a while. A few of your relatives ask you if you’re dating anyone, and you say no. They respond in various ways, ranging from “Well hurry up, you’re not getting any younger!” to “Don’t give up! There’s plenty of fish in the sea.” Your relatives believe that you need a romantic relationship, and you need it as soon as possible.
You are openly gay. There is one other openly gay student at your school, and although you don’t necessarily have anything against this person per se, they’re not really your type; You have no desire to date them, and they seem to feel similarly about you. Despite this, your friends keep trying to hook you up with each other. Your friends are assuming that because you both experience the same type of attraction, that you must be interested in each other, and/or that you’d be happier dating this person than being single.
It’s February again, and you’re currently single, as you have been for the past few years. You worry that there’s something wrong with you, since clearly no one wants to date you. You have plenty of close friends and family who care about you, yes, but it’s not the same, is it? You feel ugly. You feel unlovable. Your best friend assures you that you’re not, but until someone starts dating you, you’re not sure you can believe that. You believe that your worth as a person is dependent on the presence of romance, and that other forms of love don’t really matter.
You’ve recently started watching a new TV show, an action-mystery with no romance in it as of yet. You really enjoy this show and are interested in hearing what other fans think, especially theories about the upcoming season finale. You join an online group for fans of this show, and to your surprise, the first thing everyone asks you is what your favorite ship is. The other fans are assuming that you must primarily be interested in any hypothetical romance in the show, or maybe even that the plot itself isn’t as interesting as romance.
You’ve just cut your hair short, something you’ve been wanting to do for a long time, and you’re very pleased with the results. Your mother, however, is distressed by this. She tells you, “You’ll never get a boyfriend with that haircut!” Your mother is more concerned with your potential for romance than with your own preferences for your body.
You and your best friend have known each other since you were young, and you’re very close. You know each other better than anyone, and tend to be quite physically affectionate with each other. People tend to assume you two are dating, and some may even refuse to believe that you’re not, insisting that it’s “so obvious” that you’re in love and that you should “just confess already”, even though you both know quite well that your feelings for each other- however intense they may be- are strictly platonic. The people around you are assuming that because your relationship is so close, it must be romantic, because no other relationship type can be as strong. Their belief in this is so strong that they think they know your own feelings better than you do.
You’re someone who enjoys an active sex life, and you find someone to hook up with. You both agree up front that this is a casual thing- No strings attached, no romance, no obligations, just a mutual interest in the activity itself. Despite this, after a few hookups, your sexual partner develops romantic feelings for you, and asks you to go out with them long-term. You say no, you don’t feel that way about them, and remind them of your agreement; Yet they get angry at you for this, blaming you for causing them to “catch feelings”, and say that you shouldn’t have started this relationship if you weren’t willing to possibly commit to something “more”. They spread nasty rumors about you, saying you’re a heartbreaker, a cold-hearted monster who used them for sex. Your sexual partner believes that their desire for romance should take precedence over any previously set boundaries, and that you are in the wrong for not doing what they want.
You and your best friend have been living together for several years, and intend to continue doing so indefinitely. You’re both working adults, but your friend has a significantly more secure job than you do, with better benefits. You both think it would be great if you could get insurance coverage under your friend’s employer, but because you’re neither a blood relative nor legal spouse of your friend, their insurance company won’t cover you- they can’t, as their policies don’t allow such a thing. If you were married, this wouldn’t be a problem. Non-romantic relationships are not extended the same protection and legal/financial benefits as romantic relationships.
Your favorite manga just ended after a long and successful run. It’s an action series with little romance, yet the epilogue shows every single main character to now be married, even to characters they’ve rarely spoken to or seem to have little chemistry with. The manga’s author- or perhaps their editor, either way- believes that the story cannot be complete without romance, even if said romance makes no sense or contributes little to the plot or characters.
See what I mean? Now, I’m not saying that romance as a concept is inherently bad. I know that to many people, romance is incredibly important, and that’s entirely understandable. For many people, their romance has historically been discriminated against, and continues to be in many ways. I am not trying to take romance away from you, nor shame you for it. But I do think that it’s important to recognize the harm that social values about romance can cause, to you and to others.
If you’d like to start learning to recognize, and shut down, amatonormativity in your own life, try taking some time to reflect on the following topics:
How much does romance matter to you, and why does it matter that much? What aspects of romance do you genuinely, sincerely want? Might some of your experiences with romance be influenced by social pressure to live your life a certain way?
What assumptions do you make about others, and why? Should you really be making those assumptions?
Are you properly appreciating the non-romantic relationships in your life? Do you ever say things that might make your friends and family feel as if they’re not as important as your romantic partners, even if they don’t express this?
Do you use language that unconsciously places more value on romantic relationships than anything else? Do you use terms such as “just friends”, “better half”, “more than friends”, or “catching feelings”?
I hope that this post can help bring some awareness to the harm caused by amatonormativity, and help people better learn to recognize it- as well as fight back against it. By becoming aware of the value our society places on romance, and the insecurities it can cause us, we can better learn to love ourselves, our friends and families, and our lives, whether or not we choose to pursue romantic relationships.
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The Words upon the Window Pane | Chanyeol
Genre: Smut, Angst (only a wee bit), PwP
Pairing: Auhor!Chanyeol x Reader
Warnings: Top!/Dom!Chanyeol, fingering, unprotected wall sex (ALWAYS do it safely, lads and lasses!), subtle dom/sub themes, swearing/cussing, dirty talk, love bites
Summary: The relation between Logic and Passion is often difficult for artists and certainly so when the involved parties dabble in words. Because language has the power to conceal the truth, to say what otherwise might not be said.
The words upon the window pane.
However, one night, a mouth is brave enough to at last utter them.
And to bring about unexpected consequences.
Author’s Note: The title is derived from the play of the same name by W.B. Yeats, who is, as you may or may not know, one of my favourite poets and greatest inspirations as of late. Furthermore, this is the first EXO smut piece to be written by this wee birdy, which hopefully shall not disappoint more experienced EXO-Ls.
All in all, I hope you enjoy the work of a feather.
Making a living as an author is not easy, especially when starting out and having only a single book to one’s name. However, Voice is not merely a literary tool to use in order to be heard, since it can also realistically become audible when speaking. All in all, it remains a fluent phenomenon and so it is of great benefit to storytellers to have mastery over it. To provide experiences that ignite vivid imagery thanks to simply creating an ambience with sound when not craftily doing the same on the page. Such is the talent of the author rapidly grown popular online due to a deep voice and funny personality, thousands of women drooling over the tailored experiences provided to them on multiple platforms.
But none of them has ever gotten the real deal, their sensual emotions remaining one-sided whereas those of a newbie novelist are answered.
Sometimes.
The relationship started after the romance department of the same publishing house contracting the famous erotic writer took a bold chance by offering a contract to an unknown name having just completed a manuscript about an innocent coffee shop romance. During the meeting with the assigned editor, icy pale locks wandered into the modern cafeteria and toward the table where a conversation about the next steps towards actual publishing took place, sitting down wordlessly and merely observing. Withal, basalt irises blatantly ignored rapidly flushing rosy cheeks on the adjacent seat, focused intently on the ones across the table that tried to maintain a steady composure.
Yet it crumbled bit by bit as genuine interest was shown during a spontaneous proposal to drink coffee together sometime after the editor held a brief round of introductions at the end of the important chat, which had gained an unintentional third participant. Piece by stiff piece got chipped away over warm beverages thereafter, talking about upcoming manuscripts and the professional giving a newbie a couple of tips to not stumble and, perhaps, fall without hopes of getting up.
And were entirely smoothed out among the sheets after the daring kiss when goodbye came on the first proper dinner date, Chanyeol leaning in without hesitance to rapidly turn a chaste caress of the cheek into sin once having been escorted safely to the front door of one’s own roof.
To make a heart fall for one which is unbound, according to the rumours spoken by the female tongues which all supposedly possess a sensual experience of sorts concerning the novelist. Notwithstanding, one can talk but not say anything, let alone the truth. Withal, the gossip has expanded while being in a strange type of relationship, always being the first to propose something to do and bleached smooth strands simply agreeing if the busy schedule allows it, of course. Spontaneous proposals for a movie night or trying out a new café are one-sided, the first time drinking coffee together being the sole occasion on which it came from the distant beloved. However, during the opportunities to be together, it never fails to feel genuine.
Sincere in spite of the mouths believing it is merely about sex, warning to get out now before it is too late.
The logical ship has left the safe haven.
It is too late.
Regardless of bravely sailing in an individual sea, the doubt can never be kept at bay since it lurks as a kraken in the darker waters coming up on the journey every now and again. After all, the fans of the deep voice catering supposedly “exclusive” experiences for them would loathe the fact their imaginary lover actually has a girlfriend. Moreover, the serpents roaming the office keep telling tales that steadily grow arms and legs, each limb stemming from the period in which minds were apart.
Those spans of time increase in frequency.
Lunch grows lonelier.
Days are spent in isolation.
Reassuring words do not hold significance on the floor of the publishing house nor on those of one of our apartments on a lucky night.
No acknowledgement.
All there is, is vagueness.
Just something.
Something.
Undefinable.
Certainly not pretty or comforting.
Empty. Yes, that is the best way to describe it.
Hollow, lonely, one-sided.
Unrequited.
And it takes away the hunger at the dinner table beneath the luxurious roof, the expensive wine and home-cooked meal using high-quality ingredients holding as much inherent value as a shilling in the gutter. So the fork is put down, the bite laboriously swallowed and focus averted from the porcelain plate presenting little yet seeming too stacked.
‘Baby, are you alright?’ Head cocked to the side in wonder, Chanyeol stops mid-bite, sensing something is off.
Something.
Always something is off.
Right now, it finds a voice in a lowly muttered remark as disappointed fingers shove the still full plate and cutlery away as far as possible. The stomach can live with the stone in it, like the heart slowly freezing itself thanks to the vicious tales of betrayal can continue to exist in ice. After all, even this week’s audio consisting of ‘’sexy’’ unboxing ramblings and testing out toys sent by mistresses somewhere else is but a mere drop in the overflowing bucket. ‘I’m not hungry.’
The limit has been reached.
End of the line.
Of this.
Us.
If there even ever has been a happy chronicling couple.
‘You’ve barely eaten.’ The unsuspecting fork picks up a perfectly grilled asparagus, endeavouring the feed a soul starved of happiness. A perfectly useless attempt at making things right for the culprit knows very well what goes on behind the scenes that are enacted every time at the workplace, the little faked though credible moments of two youngsters being solely friends but perhaps a bit more. No one knows for sure, but they do assume. Gossip has a way of being heard, even when feigning to ignore it in favour of personal fantasies. ‘At least have a few more vegetables.’
‘Did it...’ A wry smile carves itself on a face which is on the edge of tears, remembering every word said at the collective coffee machine in the cafeteria alongside the lovesick comments on every digital upload and equally sensual reaction to a novel novel. How can the detailed storyteller not notice the burning water droplets searing their way to the lash line?
Begging.
Begging to fall.
To be noticed.
Because they have had to hide so bloody long in loneliness.
Denied.
A significant detail.
‘Did it mean anything?’ God forbid that the words spilt between the sheets, on dates and in secrecy in the coffee corner did not hold any meaning. Withal, knowing how writers are for the craft is part of one’s own personality, there are no better tricksters. Words can be made pretty, cunningly serving to conceal the ugly truth.
‘What? Did what mean anything? Babe, what are you on about?’ The uncomprehending gravely worried furrowed brows relax, raven irises softening as they discover the tale of the Ice Queen’s heart and damnably igniting the thawing process. Looks can kill, as is the word on the street, and the big pale wolf knows it judging by the gentle smile only reserved for his foolish mistress. ‘You’ve been listening to gossip again. Look, I’ll say it again and I still mean it. I love you, Y/N. Only you. You ought to know that by now.’
The supposedly well-meaning palm resting between the abandoned dishes is not lovingly covered, digits remaining apart instead of entwining in blissful union. Instead, the chair is pushed back as the napkin that formerly rested on the lap is viciously thrown onto the table surface. Voice is barely controlled, dangerously close to cracking yet forced to maintain steady fury. ‘Don’t fucking lie to me! I know this means nothing.’
‘Means nothing? This means nothing?’ The actions are fiercely mimicked, the pleading tone in speech overruling the fabricated calm demeanour. ‘It does, babe. It really does.’
‘Yeah, right. As if you haven’t said that to one of those horny dolls who gladly listen to their fantasy boyfriend or read about all the wonderful things you’d do to them. What did you call them again? Your honeys?’ There is no stopping the jeering guided by the incomparable ache rendering every nerve paralyzed, an alternative ego who feels betrayed rising with every second of the outburst.
In the end, she, too, is one of many.
I am nothing.
‘Babe, please-’ Agonizingly following footsteps attempt to reason, begging to stay for a proper vis-á-vis to resolve this “problem” while making their way to the hallway.
Evidently without success. ‘Oh, piss off. I’m sure you had others in the time I was gone.’ The searing tears on lashes in the wee hall finally stream down the cheeks, lost in bittersweet memories of a time ruled by naivety. When every touch was so certain of love, felt protective and was believed to be sincere.
Notwithstanding, that was then.
This is now.
‘It really meant something to me, you know? I fucking gave myself to you because I stupidly trusted you, Chan! You were my first.’ A shake of the head brings about enough steadiness to remain coherent in speech, to at least keep a total breakdown at bay a little longer. The battle is almost won, a little bit more perseverance needs to be put in before all might become actually well. ‘But I could’ve, no, should’ve known better. So fuck off and leave me alone.’
Just as a hand reaches towards the knob of the front door, a firm palm wraps painfully around the left wrist. Once that power was loved, but now it is just that: hurt.
And it wants… needs to be left behind.
To make it pay for the solitude.
The agony needs to face the consequences.
‘No.’
The pain in the shape of the man who was believed to make up the world.
Stupid.
We both only have our stories to speak honestly in because they are the sole place where it is possible to be true.
Funny how a broken heart ignites a sense of creativity to exploit and there is a sudden haste to make use of it. Or so the mind wants this to be the reason behind the futile struggle for freedom for the real reason is the simple need to get away before breaking the character of the hard-headed sneering Ice Queen and leave oneself in fragments on the battlefield. ‘Let. Me. Go.’
A vicious tug makes feet stumble away from the entryway and slam into the wall opposite the stairs, Chanyeol’s face mere inches away and obsidian irises burning with sorrowful rage that has grown from incomprehension. All acting halts at once, alarmed breath coming out ragged as the powerful gentleman is sought frantically on a quietly raging beautiful expression. ‘I won’t. Not until you finally listen to me and know who you belong to, young lady.’
Slender digits clad in a chic ink-black jacket roughly push aside underwear, unapologetically disappearing beneath the skirt to exert sexual dominance as lips powerfully nullify all chances at protest. ‘This is mine. Only mine. All I can think about these days, so much so I can’t even write without giving you a role in my novel.’
The possessive growling fuels the heat below, slowly reducing the hurtful stretch, as all vocabulary is lost in the marks left behind on the throat by stark white teeth. Miraculously, the ability to resist the temptation remains although it falters and starts to stutter in the strong secure warmth of a familiar palm at the end of the spine. ‘I- I don’t be- believe you.’
‘Who do you think is more credible?’ A rough mind-boggling thrust goes paired with the branding being interrupted to snarl against a slightly open mouth, dominant despite oddly affectionately resting foreheads against one another and chuckling as haphazard fluttery palms rest on broad shoulders. ‘The man who loves you or some women you don’t even know?’
In spite of being barely able to respond, a piece of hateful Logic remains and is capable of jeering and mocking the question that should have served to set things right. ‘But y- you could’ve fucked.’
‘I didn’t. Listen to me, young lady.’ The hand that formerly rested on the small of the lower back rises to envelop the throat, forcing a lock of gazes while enchantingly cutting off access to air. ‘Ever since we met, I’ve been yours. I’d never give anyone else a role in my novels because nobody inspires me like you do.’
‘D- Don’t stop.’ There is too much deliria to persist in protesting, each movement beneath fabric erasing the thought of resisting the platinum wolf as soon as it arises. Instead, it gives rise to memories of beautiful naive nights that make up the horror and delight of an insane mistress of letters, both inside the pages and outside.
Throwing the heart back into bittersweet love.
‘Ah, there she is. There’s the helpless little slut I know.’ With an ashamedly wet noise, slim fingers undo the bodily connection that had been greedily gone along with, leading to an inevitable displeased whine that evokes a lovely dark chuckle.
A nudge of the nose asks to follow the focus of the seemingly only sane mind, see what the writer wants to be noticed without resorting to loathsome spoon-feeding. It is all in the details, that is where the heart of the tale lies. ‘See that?’
Lashes flutter innocently as gaze wanders lower and lower to restricting dusk-shaded denim, wordlessly remarking on the considerable outlined shape that the idiotic heart and persona meant to have walked out the door greatly want to exploit. ‘Only you do that to me, Y/N.’ An almost sweet peck on the forehead turns attention upward briefly before receiving another on the lips, after which a command makes hands act in too enthusiastic desirable greed. ‘Undo the zipper.’
It takes little time nor effort to force down sturdy and elastic fabric to bare burning desire to the chill air in the hallway. And it takes even less than that very same moment to be pinned against the wall once again, thighs supported by iron hands promising to never let go, and directly connect in body and soul.
Willingly.
Beautifully.
‘Fuck, every time is like the first. I remember our, grm, hrm, first night. How you begged me to go harder-’ the speed accelerates, snarls growing more and more savage with every advance as behaviour, too, becomes wonderfully harsher, ‘rough you up. All the while acting like an innocent doe, turning me on. Mewling, pinned to the bed, forced to take me. God, I love it when you’re like that. Helpless. Powerless. Submissive.’
Every word is accentuated by an animalistic thrust, a sweet kiss on the side of the neck contrasting with the teeth leaving behind plum marks of possession at equal intervals. A low rumble of delight at platinum locks being pulled on vibrates in the buff chest lovingly keeping the spine against the wall, rejoicing in the flowing waterfall of mere meek noises.
Exactly as we were during the first night.
Loving now as we had before.
Honestly.
Snarling sweet nothings against skin while erasing every thought in the chase for the satisfaction of primal desire. When tears of analyzed sadness turned into those of unadulterated pleasure. ‘Crying as you take my cock deep inside that dripping little pussy.’
‘Cha- Chanyeol-’ There are no words to break through the haze of bittersweet nostalgia, leaving the sentence unfinished. It does not matter for all focus is turned towards reaching temporary enlightenment as fast as possible in the most savage manner.
‘Cum on that cock, baby. Cream that fucking cock.’
Any sense of resistance that somehow managed to linger, loathing Logic deeming the act wrong in every aspect and begging for liberation, is erased in an instant as the command is pressed onto firm lips.
It is wonderful.
Incredibly gorgeous.
Having Chanyeol wrap his storytelling palm around the throat once more as the other presses bodies together until there cannot possibly be any distance left. Wolfish grunts fall from cushiony lips, chanting maddening “mine, mine, mine”s, while sprinting during the final bit of the primitive race, soon reaching the white light found between shivering thighs.
Who are crying silently in a paradoxical mixture that cannot be kept alive consisting of sensual delight, heartbroken self-hatred and rage directed towards loved pale locks.
Tears to, fortunately, be noticed once reason returns enough to no longer be under the influence of the desirable beast beneath the skin. Henceforth, it is the incredible author who affectionately wipes away the droplets running over the cheeks as onyx irises soften in comprehension of pain. ‘Hey, don’t cry, Y/N. Remember what I promised you?’
A head shake shows ignorance because there have been a great number of promises until now, which is acknowledged by the low chuckle that never fails to allow the usual guard to be let down and now disrupts the quiet panting betraying a sliver of glad exhaustion. The simple sound never fails to make the chest puff a little in pride and veins to bask in a loving warmth, even after being frozen in place without hopes of crumbling thanks to the vivid rumours floating around the office. ‘I know I have promised you a lot, but one thing is that I’d never make you cry because I’d never dare to break your heart. I genuinely love you, seriously am head over heels for you. Can you believe me when I say that?’
It is hard to respond negatively when bodies are still one and foolishly trusted palms envelop the cheeks, resulting in wavering speech on the verge of cracking. Withal, a little bit of strength is gathered from the tight grip on defined biceps engraved with ink. ‘I wa- want to, but... the gossip...’
‘Listen.’ A long tender kiss muffles the sobs aching to be released alongside the gasp at the sudden hollow feeling when the physical spell is lifted. Another one asks for focus on talking things over instead of paying attention on the faint sound of liquid dripping onto the hallway tiles. ‘You crying makes me want to cry because it hurts me to see you like this. It really does, babe. And people will always talk, but, perhaps, it might help if we go public? I have an interview soon.’
‘People will think I’m only dating you for your money.’ No matter if a statement will be made, the way of thought lies outside the influence of words. Authors know this first and foremost for each sentence that is penned down fails to fully convey what might be going on in vivid imagination and thus fails to be entirely understood.
A bittersweet smile tugs on the corners of the mouth as messy snow white locks fall obscure the sight of lips drawn into a stern line speaking melancholically, mocking oneself. ‘I wouldn’t mind if you’d do.’
With more fierceness than expected, an answer to the rhetorical assumption bursts from a panicked mouth uncensored, clutching the soft fabric of clothes as if not doing so will induce an unbridgeable abyss. ‘But I don’t!’
‘I know that, Y/N. I know.’ Thumbs start to caress the sides of the face, somberly smoothing the anxious sorrow in self-reflection. ‘You know I hate losing, be it games or bets, but- but I- I-‘ Breaths grow short as tears start to brim in the corner of beautiful almond-shaped eyes. Hands fall away from the cheeks to wrap around the middle, the waist caught in a sturdy grip. Foreheads rest against each other and the arms of a claimed mistress wrap around the neck, fingertips playing with the pale strands at the back. ‘I would scorn myself if I’d lose you.’
‘You’ll lose readers if we go public.’ After all, not everyone enjoys a real life romance and certainly not those imagining one individual as their partner while he is, in truth, already faithfully bonded to another woman.
‘Doesn’t matter, I don’t care. If they’re true fans, they’ll be happy for us.’ Chanyeol’s voice has renovated its ocean deep steadiness, tiny lights appearing out of nowhere to illuminate a sudden bright cheery idea in a nightly gaze creating a bit of distance. ‘You know what? I’ll buy you a ring and a matching one for myself so everyone can see you’re mine.’ A palm shows itself from behind the small of the back to grab the left wrist and trace over the second-to-last digit. ‘To wear on this finger.’
‘You’d do that?’
‘Yes.’ The breathless chuckle is strangely melancholic yet delighted, the curious combination taking over demeanour entirely. ‘Yes, of course. Anything to keep you with me.’ The mere embrace suddenly turns into an inescapable hug, broad shoulders blocking out the world that wants to be temporarily forgotten. ‘I want you with me, only you. Please, stay with me. Here.’ The nose often kissed in the morning or cheekily out of sight of the publishing house staff nuzzles the side of the neck, whispering against the warm skin. ‘I want you to move in.’
‘Is that a wish or a command? I’m my own person, you know?’ The weak attempt at humour is seemingly appreciated, Chan tangibly chuckling before sighing in relief when being kissed on the top of the head.
‘There she is, there’s my good clever girl.’ Foreheads come to rest against each other once more in the air scented by whatever remains of dinner, perspiration and our perfumes combined, creating a weird musky howbeit fruity undertone. The chin is lifted by a curled finger after calmly being put to rest against the wall instead of being fully at the mercy of the writer’s engraved arms. ‘But you know very well what I mean, young lady.’
‘I do,’ fingertips bashfully run over the side of the storyteller’s neck, leaving behind a growling trail of anticipating goosebumps before rising to comb through pale strands, ‘sir.’
‘Don’t.’
A peck.
‘Tease.’
A kiss.
‘Me like that.’
Lip caught between teeth.
And freed once having clearly asserted dominance. ‘I’m yours.’ Although the inquiring peck on the cheek does not partake in the sensual teasing but is severe in character. ‘And you’re mine?’
Catching on to the need for credibility, the erotic novelist acknowledges it while sweetly yet sincerely murmuring. ‘Entirely yours. Not just in stories or audios, in real life as well. As long as possible, until we no longer breathe. This I promise.’
And thus this part of our tale ends, the fragment of the middle part leading to the end.
Of that which ink cannot fully capture on paper, in sounds or on skin.
Withal, it is not necessary because we have each other for inspiration and retellings.
Musing.
In love.
In medias res.
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My (Rough) Thoughts on Shipping Self-Inserts With Canon Characters
Obviously, if you’ve read some of my newer works, you’ll know that I don’t mind OCs, and I feel similarly towards self-inserts. In fact, I’m in pretty high favour of them (good published authors have used themselves and their experiences as great inspiration many a time, and with much success--Dostoyevsky did so a lot!).
However...
With self-inserts, I find that shipping can be quite... problematic.
I’d like to start with an experience of my own, a basic one, where I wrote a self-insert ship fic. It was... bad, but bad isn’t always indicative of the self-insert style. I remember the way I imagined it was myself in the story, interacting with the characters just like I would in my head, and how great it was to put it onto paper. I was invigorated, it gave me purpose, and I swore to write a new page every day. It was my first fanfiction, and I still enjoy reading it occasionally (even if no one else would).
But that piece isn’t my current ideal for writing, and there are several things I could’ve done to improve. Like, certain writing conventions served to tear me straight from a story, no matter how I tried to gloss over them in my mind.
Signifiers such as ‘(y/n),’ or ‘(h/c),’ ripped me right out of the screen and back into the room around me. Reading about how, “She looked up with her (e/c) eyes happily,” even if only for half a second, I lost my transfiction, and engagement stuttered as I knew I’d be ripped away again.
Strawmanning was another of these problems. The ‘bully’ characters weren’t anything more than a few cookie-cutter lines (not even stereotypes!), whereas the heroic me had the last word, expertly cutting through their paper-thin insults and winning for myself a glorious victory. Rather than highlight virtuous aspects of my character, however, this win only served to make my writing contrived, which goes with my next point.
Shipping myself with a character was perhaps my downfall. Now, don’t get me wrong, my beloved and I had some awesome dialogue about how we should use the honorific ‘-kun’ to make people think we were dating, but overall, neither of our characters were enhanced by each other. I was still my Holy self, the other character shared in my Light, and everyone else were unworthy heathens below.
So what could I have done differently, and what caused me to take such a self-indulgent turn?
To answer my second question, well, age was definitely a factor. I was ten, I believe, and not highly capable of self-reflection, something which is needed in spades in order to artfully insert oneself. I wanted an easy story, one where I could be with the character I wanted and never be in the wrong, and so that’s what happened, at the expense of both our characters (as I’ll elaborate on further down).
To answer the first, I’ll need to take a slightly deeper dive.
For signifiers, I believe why I used them is the key. There’s a difference between self-inserts and reader-inserts, although the two are often mixed, which makes sense (who’s to be the reader-insert if not oneself, or one’s close friend?).
My story was not a reader-insert, though, nor was it ever in my plans to share it, to make it accessible for a friend. (And not even for the purposes of this discussion will I share it with you now, perish the thought.) The only reason I’d thought to add in signifiers of personal traits, of which I knew very well, was imitation. I noticed that every other person on Quotev wrote their fanfictions that way, and so I followed suit. In hindsight, though, it would have been much better to just describe myself or, if preferred, just leave it vague.
I do believe, by the way, that the distinction between self-inserts and reader-inserts--or where we muddle the line--should be something kept in mind when writing. How do you know what’s in-character if you don’t know which character you’re writing about, after all?
For strawmanning, or making a ‘Mary Sue’ of myself, well, there’s a quick explanation. I loathe being wrong. Don’t you? And yet, it’s a real hinderance if I want to write myself into a story. I can’t stand being wrong, I fear it, but characters with no failings are, frankly, boring to follow.
So if they’re so boring, and I don’t want to be wrong, what can I do? Well, I could not write myself. Or, I could use that as a character flaw, and incorporate it into my writing. Maybe, instead of valiantly slicing through the bullies’ insults, my character could think that’s what they’ve done, while the narrator knows full well they’ve made an arse of themself.
And now... onto my main point as stated in my headline--shipping!
In order to ship myself with a character (let’s say Nikolai), I think, honestly, that a perfect storm is needed. 1) I’d need a deep understanding of Nikolai and 2) an extreme level of self-awareness so that 3) I can know whether or not being with Nikolai would be right for me.
Just because I like a character doesn’t mean that he’d automatically like me.
And in fact, I can say with certainty that, if Nikolai were to come to cross paths with me, he’d think nothing of me and forget me the next day. Such is the sort of realism that’s necessary, I think, if we’re not to mould the characters of our affection into someone entirely different, whom they fundamentally are not. If keeping Nikolai’s full personality is my genuine goal in writing, I cannot, therefore, ship myself with him, and I cannot write a self-insert fic about him loving me with any believability or integrity as a writer.
This isn’t to say that I can’t write a fic with both of us interacting, though. I could, of course, get unexpectedly trapped in a trash can, and there’d be nothing for him to do but generously help me out. The line there, however, is to not try to push him past his limits. If I truly respect him, then I wish for him to stay my truest version of him.
If I do wish to mould his character, however, then all that goes out the window. Suddenly, he’s whatever I want him to be, and we can go have a weekend getaway without complication... but I’d need to be careful.
There’s a fine line between character interpretation and character butchering. Personally, respect is a massive part of my relationship with my character. If I don’t respect a character, I end up misrepresenting them, putting false words and actions in their mouths, and polluting the fic.
So what should I do if I want to mould them to like me (and I can’t change myself without actually changing myself in real life), but I don’t want to disrespect them?
Well, it’s actually pretty easy within Bungō Stray Dogs. In order to change a character, it’s important, I think, to keep some of their core values, and in BSD characters’ cases, the core themes of their namesakes.
(I’ll have to use Fyodor for this next example, by the way, since I cannot for the life of me come up with a situation that would grant me closeness to Nikolai.)
I’d never, ever make Fyodor choose me over his goals, for example (and in fact, very likely, he wouldn’t let me). However, there are still the quiet moments to think of. Were he perhaps a bit more like Alyosha (character from The Brothers Karamazov, by Dostoyevsky), more willing to make time for those he cares about, so long as we had known each other a long time prior, even if my intellect didn’t compare to his, loyal companionship and decent conversation over a good cup of tea is enough, I think, for a decent scene. (This takes some, though not all, inspiration from Dostoyevsky’s relationship with his second wife, as well as Alyosha’s relationship with his love interest.)
I believe the change should be in-keeping with his character, something slight, so that he remains the man I love and respect while still being able to be himself.
(Now, I’m also aware that I can’t come from a place of complete sincerity, since I don’t want to be with Fyodor, but the example still, I think, was necessary.)
To recap how I think I could do self-insert fiction better:
-I’d keep engagement in mind.
-I’d try to watch for unintentional perfection.
-If I don’t want to change a character, then I: evaluate if they’re right for me.
-If I do want to change a character, then I: keep them the truest form of themself at their core, and make only necessary in-character changes.
So... yeah, those are my rough thoughts. None of this is intended to be OC harassment, by the way, and the only fic I ever referred to here was my own. The itch just came, since I’ve been thinking about this for years, to flesh out my thoughts a bit. I hope anyone who managed to make it this far got something out of this, and thanks for reading <3
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Bold moves, No assumptions (Tuck Hanson x Reader)
Tuck Hanson One Shot
Genre: Fluff
Author’s Note: Ever since I watched “This Means War” I was quite disappointed with the ending aka Tuck not being chosen. Didn't make sense cause clearly he was the better choice. Enraged with this and his forced ending with his ex, I wrote this for anyone who shares the same frustration.Tuck Hanson, you deserved better. And here is my tribute to you <3.
P.S: Didn’t Tom Hardy looked supa fine as Tuck?
You played safe in most situations in your life. And never dared to do something out of your comfort zone.
But you always convinced yourself to be stronger and make some bold moves; you were just waiting for the right time to do so.
Working as a part of HR at the Agency might not be as exciting or glamorous, but you did enjoy it. You get to help people with internal matters and you took great pride in it. You’ve made friends with people within and outside of your department and some of them were simply a joy to know.
Agent Tuck Hanson was definitely the best one.
As time went by, you developed quite a soft spot for this charming gentleman of a Brit. He never failed to greet you at work and make your presence known. He would always try out your baked goods with much enthusiasm and you couldn’t help but respect his work ethic. His partner and best friend FDR, was nice too, but you could tell right away what kind of a guy he was. And you didn't really buy into that. Tuck might not be as smooth of a talker as FDR, but you appreciated his sincerity and romantic nature as a person.
When Tuck told you about this girl he found on this dating site, you were happy for him. But at the same time, you felt these feelings, which could only be described as “sour”. You kept ignoring this ‘sourness’ when it all went so well with Tuck and this girl “Lauren”.
But this became such a complicated screw up, when FDR accidentally ended up liking the SAME woman. At first, this immature fight over the same girl seemed so hilarious in your eyes. But when they started to use their power with background checks on her for interests and “sabotaging” each other’s attempts, you realized this was going WAY out of line.
“I don’t know guys, this seems a bit too much, and someone’s gonna get huuurt” you voiced your opinion with a tone of concern and a disapproving look.
And you could tell that Tuck always got embarrassed, as if he realized the insanity of their actions. But he quickly changed heart considering the competitive nature between the two friends.
You even remembered the day when the Heinrich assignment was completed. That was when Lauren finally made the choice. You found Tuck talking to Lauren when the medics arrived, and you remembered how he tried so hard to not let the rejection get to him. Even though you stood far away, you heart felt heavy and you felt bad in his place. You even questioned yourself as to why would you be THIS emotional for someone else’s loss.
That’s when you fully knew, how much you cared for Tuck Hanson.
All of this, flashed through your mind as you indulged on some nachos, looking out to the tables ahead, watching FDR and Lauren cozy up together, laughing, kissing and enjoying each other’s company at the Annual State Fair on a Thursday night.
Since the Lauren incident, Tuck enjoyed your company more often and you didn't mind it all. And when Tuck said he would be going to the fair with a date, you were more than happy to be there to rescue him if anything went sideways.
You just didn't really expect to see THEM there, at the same place, in the same time, together, rubbing it all in Tuck’s face, if he ever did see them.
Suddenly you felt frustrated and angry, but you were also bold. A part of you was surprised when you got up from your seat to walk over to the ‘happy couple’.
“Lauren? Lauren Scott?”
“Oh hey (Y/N)! Didn't expect to see YOU here.” FDR got up happily to show off his new girlfriend. “Lauren...this is (Y/N), she works in HR at the uh…Agency”
“OMG…Hey! Nice to meet you (Y/N)!”
You and Lauren shook hands. You couldn't help but be awed by Lauren, with her golden hair and beautiful smile; she definitely exuded rays of sunshine.
No wonder Tuck fell for her, you thought.
“Yeah, you too. Um…sorry to barge in like this, but uh…I just…I just-” you took a deep breath. “I’m really happy for you guys, really. But I just gotta ask, woman to woman. You really picked FDR over Tuck? REALLY? REALLY?” your voice grew louder by the word. And you swore your expression might have changed into something not so pleasant.
Oh no…here I go.
“REALLY? I mean…WHY?” you continued.
“Uh…(Y/N) I’m sitting right here-“ FDR interrupted.
“FDR PLEASE! Just PLEASE!” you motioned him to shut up.
“I get it, FDR is a softie underneath all that smooth, ladies man bullshit. But what about the good guys? What about people like Tuck? He is the perfect gentleman. And from what happened between you guys, all seemed to go so well right? Sorry for sounding so nosy, I know this seems over line. But seriously Lauren, I just don't understand. Yes, FDR is a lovely person and he has had a rough time growing up so yes he needs the right girl. But so does Tuck! You met HIM first, you liked HIM first. And In the end you decided to go with THIS GUY? SERIOUSLY? I just...I don't get it. There was barely anything wrong with that man, he was really in love with you, you know. You really made a HUGE MISTAKE!”
Lauren looked like she just got slapped. And FDR was pissed off big time, but trying to repress his anger. He quickly got up rushing towards you.
“Lauren I’m SO sorry, (Y/N) can be a LITTLE crazy sometimes” FDR began,
“(Y/N) maybe you should go home”
“I’m FINE! Don’t worry I’m leaving I’m leaving!” you shook his hand away from you.
“By the way, It was nice to meet you Lauren” your expression changed, you couldn't help but smile sincerely at Lauren. Cause in truth, Lauren seemed like a great gal.
“You look really pretty” you turned to walk away. For a second, you felt this huge burden leave your shoulders.
“(Y/N)!”
You turned to find Tuck running up to you “Where are you off to luv?”
“I’m going home, I’m not feeling so good” you replied with a tight smile.
He eyed you sternly, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“Trust me, I’m fine. Sorry Tuck” your voice grew softer, patting him on the shoulder.
FDR approached Tuck, who watched you walk away with a confused expression.
“Is (Y/N) okay?” Tuck asked his friend. “Well she certainly didn't seem right in head to me” FDR replied angrily, shaking his head.
“I really don't follow” Tuck got even more confused.
“Tuck, you’re not gonna BELIEVE what just happened”
----------
As much as you didn't want to face FDR the next day at work, you also wanted to apologize for being a jerk in front of Lauren. You came to work early as usual. As you were heading to get a pot of coffee, you stopped by Tuck’s table to check up on him.
“Good Morning Mr.Hanson…or should I say Handsome?? Hah!” you greeted him teasingly. He smiled warmly while typing some emails.
“ ‘Morning Luv! You feeling better today?” he closed his laptop to look at you.
“Oh it was just a headache, a good night’s rest did the trick” you gave him thumbs up, automatically looking over to FDR’s table “What happened to FDR?”
“Oh he took the day off today so wont be coming in” Tuck replied, turning side to side on his chair.
“I see…Oh! Dude…how did the date go last night?”
Tuck opened his mouth but stopped himself to think of a better reply. Chuckling, he went “Oh…you know, didn't work out that well” he shrugged his shoulders. You didn't believe him. “What? That's insane…I saw the lucky lady and she looked hawt!” you folded your hands leaning on FDR’s table. “Yeah I guess, but we didn't really click that well in the end” he replied nonchalantly. You still didn't believe him.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that Tuck. Maybe it didn't work out for a reason. So, have hope!” you cheered him and while walking away to get that coffee.
“I will ” Tuck whispered, watching you leave, and hoping you were right.
--------
Few days later, you heard some colleagues talking about this dangerous mission Tuck was assigned to, and how he will be going out to the field. You rushed to look for Tuck, finding him leaving his table to get ready.
“Please…please be careful, and promise me you’ll be okay” you felt so corny, saying all these things to him. Tuck, touched by your worried reaction, reached out to hold your hand.
“Don't worry luv! I’ll be fine, I promise” he sounded sure. You nodded in acknowledgment, trying not to be distracted by the warmth of his touch.
------
Hours later, Tuck returned to the Agency after a successful mission, but also with a few bruises. He insisted he didn't need a cleanup. But with your persuasion, a medic came by to fix him up. When the medic left, you came in to the room and sat on a chair next to the door, facing a sitting Mr. Hanson on a chair next to the bed, looking exhausted.
“ You really didn't have to call on medic for this, luv” Tuck pointed at the several cuts and scars on his face which didn't seem so severe.
“Doesn't matter the severity, you needed cleaning up.” You crossed your legs “I heard you did a great job today, I’m REALLY proud of you, you know” you meant every word you said, smiling.
Tuck smiled back, but quickly looked down. Pursing his lips, he looked up and spoke shyly,
“FDR told me what happened at the fair.”
You felt the whole world crashing down on you as if the worse nightmare has happened. You wanted to get away from this room.
“I’m so sorry about th-“ you quickly got up
“No please! Don’t go “ Tuck said hurriedly, motioning you to stay. “Please stay” his voice got softer. You slowly sat down, afraid of what might come out of his mouth next.
“To be honest, it felt quite nice to hear that someone was speaking on behalf of me...”he continued, his blue eyes on you, begging for you to look back at him.
“But I just got to ask...why? Why would you do that (Y/N)?”
You summed the courage to look up at him, praying you won’t get your heart broken by rejection.
“You know, I’m not the one to pick a fight Tuck, I really am not” you began,
“…But that day, when I saw them together, I just couldn’t take it. Why must FDR only deserved to be happy and not you? Why must that happen when you did nothing but be a great guy. The spying thing was CRAZY, I WILL say that. But even from the beginning, Even WITHOUT the spying, you were doing SO well and you STILL didn’t get the girl. And it JUST PISSED ME OFF” the more you spoke the braver you sounded. You sat on the edge of your seat.
“And it pissed me off a hell lot cause I...I...” with eyes closed, you took a deep breath, clenching your fists.
“I have liked you for a really long time Tuck”
You maintained eye contact as you finished.
There it was, bold move number two.
You couldn’t read Tuck’s expression, but it did look as if he wasn’t expecting that.
“(Y/N)!-“ he let out a chuckle. “What?” You were dying of curiosity. He moved around in his seat as if to calm oneself. Was he nervous?
“You might have not known this, but when I first met you in the Agency, I thought you were quite lovely”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“Actually, I thought you were very beautiful, and seeing you around always cheered me up” you blinked fast; you didn’t know how to react.
Am I dreaming?
“I even went so far to assume you already had a boyfriend-“
“You what?” That escaped your lips faster than you could think. Loudly too.
Tuck smiled, he found your reaction adorable. “ Come on (Y/N)! Was I wrong to assume that? Why would someone like you want someone like me?”
“You CAN’T say that! That’s my line ” you protested, to which Tuck burst out laughing. You couldn’t help but chuckle. You adored the way Tuck laughed. You loved seeing him happy.
Fuck! I really like him.
“Anyways, after a while the Lauren thing happened, and then with Katie again and, nothing seemed to fit right with me” his tone changed, and it was sad.
You just had enough of this. You just couldn’t take it.
Standing up, you slowly walked over to him, not breaking eye contact. Tuck looked surprised as you suddenly sat on his lap. You longed for courage as your hands found his face, fingers touching his skin so softly.
Savor this moment.
Slowly moving forward, you kissed him.
Savor.
You kissed him like it was your first and last time.
This.
You kissed him, trying to pour all your feelings into one kiss cause you were afraid this will be your only chance.
Moment.
5 seconds, it lasted 5 seconds.
You removed your lips from his, giving him a soft smile, stroking his cheek with your thumbs looking at his fazed expression. You sighed deeply. You got up.
Frankly you really didn’t want to let this one go.
To your surprise, neither did Tuck.
He grabbed your hand, his grip hard as steel, so strong you fell back to his lap. You looked at him with shock.
“Tuck, what are y-“
“No more assuming,” he breathed, pulling you to a kiss.
Kissing Tuck was lovely. Tuck kissing you was magical. But when this was fused together, it was just fireworks. It certainly didn't seem so unfamiliar; at least not by the way Tuck was touching you. He held you up so you could straddle him. Lips were in a conversation of its own.
Where the fuck have you been?
You felt butterflies in your stomach as you felt his hands run up and down your back, finally settling down to your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The kisses turned deeper and more passionate. The distance between the two of you got smaller, to the point of the bodies grinding against one another.
Tuck broke off the kiss reluctantly, and you suddenly returned to earth.
“(Y/N)…uh...I…” he panted, gently holding your cheek “ as much as I would like to continue THIS, I really want to do this RIGHT, you know, take you out on a date first” he spoke earnestly, looking in to your eyes.
You giggled, “Hehehe…yeah true. I’d like that too…” You felt so ecstatic you hugged him super tightly,
“Finally, I have you ALL to myself” you whispered excitedly to his ear.
“You can’t say THAT! That’s MY line” Tuck responded teasingly, hugging you back.
Tuck WAS the better guy, and he made YOU the better girl.
With the help of a few bold moves you will never regret.
Check out my MASTERLIST for more
#This Means War#Tom Hardy#Tuck Hanson#Tuck Hanson imagine#Tuck Hanson x Reader#Tuck Hanson fanfiction#Tom Hardy Imagine
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FURKAN ANDIÇ 2017 ELELE MAGAZINE (DECEMBER ISSUE) INTERVIEW
He has such a smile... Furkan Andıç
Smart, sincere, polite, cheerful, likeable, with a beautiful energy, and an animal-lover. He has everything that you seek in a man ... Furkan Andıç who is playing Savaş of the series Meryem is one of those happy, positive people you like more as you get to know them.
He chats with us with a huge smile on his face, as if we have known each other for years. So comfortable, so sincere. This positive and big-hearted character of him actually comes from his life motto; we understand it as we speak. This man, who answers the question of “What is your purpose in life?” as “leaving a better world behind than what I found”, while we are used to receiving stereotypical answers like “to buy this or that, to live there, to own this” from many people, reminds us of the times when we used to chase our innocent childish wants. Just like the meaning of his name, he makes us feel his difference. He says that the idea of ‘going somewhere’, or rather, being on the move during the action of going somewhere, no matter where it is, makes him very excited. He says that he finds it appealing to leave everything behind and live in a tropical island, but don’t be afraid, he has no intention of quitting acting.
You must remember the set of your first TV series; how did you feel then?
It was the TV series Kolej Günlüğü (College Diary), the year of 2011. I was so excited. It was an ecosystem that I knew nothing about. But although it was my first time, I felt like I belonged there. It was a very special feeling.
What are your dreams regarding acting?
Actually, I want to experience it abroad. I want to try it because I think that acting is an international craft. And I have started working on it because of this.
Which character of which movie would you want to play?
The character Guido from the movie Life is Beautiful directed and played by Roberto Benigni.
How do you get prepared for the character you are going to play? Is there a specific acting method that you follow or any method that you developed to internalize your character?
There isn’t a single acting method that I follow. I try to combine the pieces from various methods. When I get prepared for the character I’m going to play, I examine his characteristics which make him unique and I look at him from a psychological point of view. In the meantime, I try to ask the questions that he would. And I do this by using my imagination.
You had your first movie experience with Damat Takımı. How different or similar is it to act in a TV series and in a full-length movie?
First of all, the greatest difference is that we have a script with a beginning and an ending in a movie. It is a great advantage for an actor to know where the story starts and where it ends. In this way, you can have the control of all changes that your character goes through. Also films are more flexible about time and scheduling, which gives every department the chance to work in more detail. These details are felt in every scene. When we have such an atmosphere, we as actors can combine those details with our own performance.
Is there a director whose films you never miss? What makes him/her special for you?
Christopher Nolan. Both the world that he creates and his dialogues and story-telling draw you in.
If you had the chance to talk to him, what would you ask him?
I’d ask ‘what is the source of your creativity?” I wonder what it is that feeds his creativity.
Jealousy, taking responsibility**, dependence… Which feelings are the most dominant in you when you fall in love?
I think we feed many of our feelings when we fall in love. We even experience every one of our feelings much more intensely. Responsibility** and affection are the first that I can think of.
**T/N: The word “sahiplenme” literally means “taking the ownership of something/someone”. But it refers to the feeling of “accepting someone as your partner, taking his/her responsibility” in relationships. Usually men are expected to do it.
What is the first item on your bucket list?
To leave everything behind and live in a tropical island.
Cats or dogs? Do you have a pet in your house?
Both of them, but I have cats. One of them lives with my parents and the other is with me.
When was the last time you tried something new?
I decided to be a vegetarian two months ago. It’s a pretty new experience for me now.
What excites you, makes you happy and upsets you the most?
The idea of going somewhere makes me really excited. On vacation, here and there. Being on the move somehow makes me happy. It also includes trying something new. I’ve never had big expectations from life to be happy. I believe that I’m usually a happy and positive person. Having my friends around makes me happy. I get upset when something that I put too much effort in doesn’t meet my expectations, and when my kindness is taken advantage of.
Are you a night person or a day person? What time of the day are you more energetic, creative and happy?
I’m a night person. I can find the answers to many questions then because I can be by myself more. And this makes me happy.
Is there anyone who had an influence on you or you took as a model growing up?
My youngest uncle, Hayri.
What’s your biggest purpose in life?
To leave a better world behind than what I found.
When you close your eyes and think about your childhood, what image do you see?
I’m playing football in the street.
How well do you cook? Do you like cooking? Is there a meal that you love or can cook well?
I like cooking but I don’t have the time to. I’ve always found it fun and relaxing to spend time in the kitchen. I can make various kinds of omelette, for example.
What’s your weakest characteristic?
I get excited very quickly. Because of this I’ve made a lot of mistakes.
What’s your biggest regret to date?
I regret not having learnt how to play an instrument. I hope I will do it one day and put an end to this regret of mine.
What are your deepest fears?
To become lonely. And in parallel with that, losing my loved ones is one of my biggest fears. People are my motivation and source of energy.
About what do you have the most doubts??
I have doubts about authorities.
What was your most interesting experience to date?
My trip to Bali. It was an environment I hadn’t witnessed before. I also had a lot of fascinating personal experiences.
What are your characteristics that you like and dislike the most?
I get along with people easily and I’m usually solution-oriented. Also, I believe that I have an energetic and positive character. What I dislike about myself is my forgetfulness. I can sometimes be impulsive. I also forgive easily. I don’t like this about myself.
What should be present on a perfect breakfast table?
Honey and cream. It’s an extra touch but makes a breakfast perfect for me.
Do you live your feelings in an exaggerated way or do you have an introverted personality?
I live them in an exaggerated way. Many people who know me well can say this.
Which super power would you have if you were given the chance to have one?
To throw the objects wherever I want to. It may sound silly but it’s so much fun.
What do you complain about the most lately?
About the pain in my right shoulder. It has been with me for the past 4 months.
What is the most ruthless criticism you have ever received?
I had a very aggressive basketball coach. He told me that I wasn’t cut out to play in a team and should have played in the streets instead. I was too young to receive such a criticism. I also didn’t agree with him. It was too tough for me (to take it).
In a world where no one would judge you, what freedom would you like to have?
I wouldn’t pay too much attention to parking.
Which characteristic of you are you most proud of?
My sincerity.
You started the season with a strong project. The series Meryem continues its success. Did you think it would receive so much love?
In fact, I felt that it would be popular from the very beginning. First of all, it has a powerful script. All characters are connected with each other but have unique stories, which attracts the audience’s attention. My character Savaş is a role where I can improve myself and push my limits. Savaş’s mood swings within the overall story are one of the most important reasons why I wanted to play this character. The whole team has put so much effort since day one, I think we achieved this as a result of these efforts. It’s a huge source of motivation for us too.
Backstage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MlRyEFmctM
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