#i feel the ending attempted to be Deep and Meaningful at the expense of the characters and that was a huge mistake | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atimeofyourlife · 2 months

Text

A love written in the stars

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: Valentine's Day | rated: t | wc: 850 Steve always had bad experiences with Valentine's Day. Eddie makes him change his mind.

Steve had always hated Valentine's Day. Ever since he was a little kid. Because his early- only- experiences with it was an attempt to buy another's love. His father would always go overboard, showering his mother with attention and love and expensive gifts. Buying her love and loyalty for another year before going back to his mistresses by the end of the week. So by the time he was old enough to understand Valentine's Day, he already had a strong distaste for it.

Once he was old enough to start 'dating' it all fell on him. From when he was twelve, if he was even vaguely involved with a girl he was expected to get her a card and flowers or chocolates. Even when there was nothing more between them than holding hands at lunch and maybe a kiss on the cheek. He'd be lucky to get a scribbled note in return.

Once he was in high school and actually interested in dating and girls, Valentine's Day started to feel very transactional. He would put in cards and flowers and dates with expensive gifts, and he would get affection and maybe sex in return. But he knew deep down if he didn't go all out with it, they wouldn't be interested. Most of the girls around him wanted an experience they could brag about, not anything with commitment.

With Nancy it felt different. He knew she wouldn't want anything too big and out there. So he had a card and a single rose for her at school, with a candle lit dinner that he'd made that evening, with a full bunch of roses. A sweet date without any expectations for the evening. She'd got him a card and some chocolates in return. The date seemed to go well, but as the evening went on, Nancy started to pull away, the grief of losing Barb eating at her from the inside, making her feel guilty for doing something that Barb would never get to do. So the evening ended early with him comforting her and then dropping her home early. He knew it wasn't her fault, that she was suffering and struggling with her trauma, and he didn't blame her for the evening not going the way he'd planned it. But, when he got home to see the half eaten dinner that he'd worked so hard on, he couldn't help feeling that there was something inherently bad about Valentine's Day. It felt like it was almost cursed for him.

The years after Nancy didn't get any better. He tried to stay away from the spending a lot of money style of Valentine's plans, and focused more on the romantic, meaningful style dates. But once his dates realized he wasn't going to be showering them with expensive gifts, they lost interest. Often making excuses to leave before the date had run it's natural course. It made him want to just give up on Valentine's Day.

But then Eddie happened. Neither of them mentioned any plans for Valentine's Day. Steve was thinking of treating it just like any other day. Get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner together, have sex, then fall asleep. And to start with, Eddie seemed to have the same idea. The day started normal, a lazy morning make out session before they both had to hurry to be ready to leave on time for work.

When Steve got home, the table was scattered with folded paper stars. He didn't know what to make of it. He was so caught up in it, he didn't notice Eddie coming up behind him until his eyes were covered.

"You weren't supposed to be home just yet. No peeking." Eddie said, steering Steve into the bedroom and pushing him down onto the bed. "Now stay here until I call you."

Steve didn't get a chance to reply before Eddie had left the room again.

He wasn't alone for long before Eddie came back to him. "It's ready now."

Steve followed Eddie back to the kitchen. Plates already on the table with what looked like take out from their favorite restaurant. The room lit only by the star shaped lights that had been hung all over the kitchen.

"Ed's, I-" Steve didn't know what to say. He just wasn't used to a partner making an effort for Valentine's Day.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby. I wanted us to eat under the stars, but it's too cold to eat outside, so this is the next best thing." "I. I love it." Steve choked out, unsure what else to say.

"And each one of these stars," Eddie picked one of the paper stars up, holding it between his thumb and finger, "is to remind you how much I love you. I know you don't have great experiences with Valentine's Day. But every time you feel like you deserved the way all those girls treated you. Open one of the stars. Each one has a message inside, reminding you that you are so loved."

Steve couldn't help the tears that were welling up. "I love you."

the paper stars are these origami wishing stars:

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddieholidaydrabbles #atimeofyourwrites #writers block and burnout have been kicking my ass recently so I am super surprised I managed to do this

156 notes · View notes

natasha-in-space · 1 year

Note

hii!! can I request something like going somewhere nice for dinner with saeyoung and going back to the apartment? I imagine that they'll end up having a nice talk and I love reading the way you write meaningful talks in your writing it makes me giggle so much I can't 🥺

"Hey, don't stress so much! There's really no need to overthink this, sweetheart. You could take me out to a McDonald's joint down the street, and I'd still be super happy to spend time with you."

You put your hand on Saeyoung's shoulder from your passenger seat in one of his most fancy looking babies, patting down the soft fabric of his sharp suit in an attempt to reassure him with your warm touch. While you were, without a doubt, flattered by him putting this much effort into your first proper date together, you were kind of starting to worry that he was way too occupied by the idea of making it a 'perfect' date and not what really mattered at the end of the day. He did have a tendency to be too hard on himself at times, after all.

Being treated to an expensive restaurant sounded lovely, you couldn't deny that, but it's not like you need any of that glitz and glam to feel satisfied.

You went through thick and thin by each other's side, there was not a slimer of doubt inside of your heart that he was the one who you wanted to eventually grow old with.

"Thank you." Saeyoung gave out a nervous chuckle, clearly trying to play it off like this wasn't a big deal to him. Though, you could see how tightly he was squeezing the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from way too much pressure put on them. "B-But hey! No deep and heavy topics for today! We've been together for months now, but with the whole 'saving my lost family and taking down an evil underground organization' shenanigans, we've never had time to go out on a proper date before... And you deserve better than that. I want today to be all about you, Y/N. If you let me."

Stopping at the red light, he took this small opportunity to put his own hand on top of yours, bringing it up to his lips to give your knuckles a light kiss. You pursed your lips into a thin line, still not liking where he was going with all this. There was no need in treating you like some royalty for him to serve and please. You just wanted to spend some meaningful time together and relax... not be spoiled by costly food and fancy atmosphere for a couple of hours.

Then again... this was clearly very important to him. He was planning this date of yours for weeks now. You kind of felt bad for wanting to call this off so quickly, without even giving him a chance. Maybe, you should just see where this whole thing goes. And if things really do turn south in the process... you can take it from there.

Feeling satisfied with your final conclusion, you smiled, reaching forward and chastely kissing him on a cheek. "Alright, Casanova, you officially won me over. Just please remember that any time we spend together is precious to me. I love you."

"Love you too, starshine." While he couldn't turn to look at you properly, your eyes met through a rear-view mirror, as he gave you a tender smile, squeezing your hand in his own for a couple of lingering moments before he had to let go in order to focus on the road ahead.

~~~~~~~

You could see that he was upset, even if he was stubbornly trying to hide it from you all the way back to the bunker. In the end, the date by itself went smoothly and peacefully, leaving you feeling perfectly satisfied by the time that you two had to leave an elegant establishment located right at the center of Seoul.

Though, Saeyoung, clearly, couldn't share the same sentiment.

Sure, maybe the waiter messed up your tables and some stuffy old man sitting on the other side of the room thought that you were laughing too loud for his liking, thus making a complaint that you two eventually had to deal with, but it's not like that means that the date was a failure! You still had a very good time, and enjoying a chance to try out some high class food with Saeyoung by your side was a treat in and of itself. Not because of the food itself, but his company that went along with it.

In the end, you were right when you wondered whether or not Saeyoung was putting way too much pressure on himself to make this date of yours 'perfect'. You could practically see nasty thoughts gnawing away at him like a swarm of tiny parasites as he drove you back home, guiltily avoiding your worried gaze, like he did something wrong. Still, you decided to wait until you were both back home to start up this conversation.

"Who knew it would start pouring the minute we get out of the car, eh? Now you're all soaked. Like a huge grumpy kitty!" You giggled, ruffling up his red hair on purpose with your towel, as you sat kneeling on the bed, trying to dry each other off. Well, more like you drying him off. Your boyfriend was looking more and more gloomy by the minute, and frankly, you were not having it. With one short sigh falling from your lips, you shifted closer to him until you knees bumped into each other, gently cupping his cheeks and prompting him to look in the eye at last.

"Saeyoung, seriously, what's wrong? There's obviously something bothering you, and I need to know what it is. Come on, I hate seeing you like this..."

In reality, you already knew the likely root of his problem, you just needed him to finally admit it not only to you, but to himself as well. You didn't want to out him like this when he might not be ready to do that yet.

Saeyoung chewed on his bottom lip, clearly doing everything he possibly can not to run away from this topic completely. You appreciated his efforts, merely caressing the damp skin of his cheek with your thumb and giving him time to come up with a proper response. Finally, he gave up, dropping his eyes to the ground and slouching his shoulders.

"Are you... really okay with how this date went? There's no need to sugarcoat anything for me, you know. I... don't understand how you can be so bright and happy when so many things have gone wrong for us. I thought I made a mental note of every possible scenario, and from what angle I should approach it to make everything perfect but- When it came down to it, I couldn't do anything." He sounded almost ashamed of himself, keeping his voice low and bringing his brows together into a dark frown, one that you were not pleased to see at all. This really was bothering him...

Still, it's a good thing that he opened up to you about this issue, instead of bottling it up as he sometimes did.

So, you treated him with compassion, lightly brushing your lips on the tip of his nose to bring back his attention to you, rather than let him continue focusing on those ugly thoughts inside his own head. "Saeyoung, what in the world are you talking about...? Of course I'm okay with how our date went! I'm more than okay. I told you, just spending time with you makes me the happiest I can be. It was fun to laugh at these stupid mishaps with you and try to figure out the names of the dishes. I love you, silly. I don't care about some spiteful old man grumbling about me laughing when you're right next to me. I don't need 'perfect', I need you, you big goof. You're already perfect in my eyes, no fancy restaurant can compete with that."

He stared at you, eyes wide open, like a deer caught in the headlights, as his cheeks were slowly turning into a deep shade of red, only making you smile further at the sight. God, it was such a relief to finally get this off your chest!

"So... You... are not upset? I just- I think that you deserve all of the best, and-"

Before he could continue this line of thought, you shushed with a delicate kiss to his lips, lingering on his skin just long enough for him to relax into your touch, letting some of the tension finally ease up out of his body. Slowly pulling away from him, you left a trail of butterflies kisses down his jaw, making him shiver under your affections, clutching onto the bedsheets under you. "You are the best, Saeyoung. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and no date can ever beat that. This date was perfectly imperfect, and I will treasure this memory forever. So don't talk to yourself like that, okay?"

Before you could pull away from him completely, you felt his hand gently grab you by the wrist, tugging you into him and making your forehead bump into his chest, as you tried to blink away your confusion.

"Uh, Saeyoung...?"

Being this close to him, you could hear his heart hammer away right under your ear. It was fast, really fast, actually. Was he nervous? Embarrassed? Scared?

Either way, soon a pair of strong arms pulled you closer, holding onto you tightly as you two easily fell back onto the soft bed with you now laying on top of him. Glancing up at his face from your comfy position on his chest, you were met with flushed cheeks almost the colour of his hair and glossy amber eyes looking down at you like you're the most beautiful creature in this whole entire universe. Or, maybe, you were projecting.

Because that's how he looked to you right now.

It took you some time to register the next few words he mumbled to you, tenderly running his fingers through your hair. "Then... If what you're saying is really true, does a date in my garage sound good to you? To be honest, this was my first idea, before I got carried away with the whole 'proper date' idea. Is it not too boring to you?"

"God, I love you so much."

You rolled your eyes at him, gently flicking him on the forehead with a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "That sounds amazing. And hey, I know practically nothing about cars so it'll be like an adventure into the unknown!"

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x reader #this turned out to be more hurt/comfort than just pure fluff but i hope u still like it!#i actually headcanon saeyoung as being pretty nervous and insecure at times in the beginning of your relationship #he wants to repay you for all of the hurt he caused you during your time at the apartment and it can get to his head #moreover he struggles with his self-worth

37 notes · View notes

yiippeeekaley · 5 months

Text

this specific panel annoys me to no end.

It just makes me think about how this "philosophical debate" between Sonic and Surge has no grounds to stand on. It's all a response to a statement that literally never existed until the comic made up some bullshit

If Sonic was written in character, the only conflict would be stopping Surge whenever she acts up because she's an unstable maniac and a danger to innocents. Sonic wouldn't go on a presidential speech about why we all need to follow his way every 7 seconds during any of their fights, either.

This nonsense about Sonic obsessively demanding everyone understand and agree with his views on life never existed at any point in the character's history until this comic decided to mangle him beyond recognition.

Also, Sonic KNOWS that Surge's being has been entirely rewired and that she can't just stop when she wants to. Why in the hell is he still insistent that talking it out and simply showing her the right way will be enough?

This one moment actually agrees with game Sonic's "fuck around and find out" mentality

It'd be nice if they left it at that, but no. We gotta have a totally epic clash of ideologies at the expense of anyone being written even somewhat decently

Also. why in the actual fuck does Surge try debating with Sonic either? Her one and only goal is killing him and his friends in order to be free. I feel like she shouldn't have a single pixel of interest in whether or not Sonic understands her motivation or realizes why he's wrong. This whole thing is terrible

All their attempts at having "deep and meaningful" themes always come across as shallow and juvenile

#rant

1 note · View note

theneondemonx · 3 years

Text

HOUDINI | JJK

One Shot

▽ summary: jungkook was your first and only. When he got arrested, you felt like an idiot for always believing his every word and after a few years you decided to date again. But the word somehow got to his ears in jail and he couldn’t let you be anyone else’s but his.

▽ genre: porn with some plot, criminal au, established relationship

▽ pairings: escaped convict!jk x fem!reader

▽ words: 3464

▽ warnings: mention of abusive relationship, mention of alcohol abuse, mention of underage sex, criminal activities, implied murder, possessive behavior, mention of female masturbation, spanking, fingering, female ejaculation, overstimulation, oral sex (m receiving, deep throating), unprotected sex, lots of cum, dirty talk

( ➜ Drabble 1: first meeting ) [⏵playlist]

He hit me and it felt like a kiss He hit me and I knew he loved me If he didn't care for me I could have never made him mad But he hit me and I was glad

You were still very young when you learned that love was nothing like the cheesy romances you’d see on the big screen. Well, you didn’t actually have the money to go to the movies, but sometimes you found the way to sneak in and watch whatever was there to watch. You had a fascination for those stories, for those dancing images on the screen. They were made of pure light. Literally. While everyone was caught in the enchantment of the movie, you were the one to look behind your back and follow the light beam up until its source, looking straight at the small window from which the projector created the whole illusion of life before your eyes.

Most people want to escape from reality. They want to feel like their life has meaning, like it is just one plot twist away from being interesting. I didn’t. Maybe I should have, since mine was pretty shit. But I guess this was the whole reason why I was looking for the disenchantment. It’s like watching a magician. I’ve always been the type to be more observant, to look for the trick. Cause if there wasn’t any, then it would have meant that mine was the only pointless existence.

No one in your block had a penny to their names. Everyone dreamed of going away, of starting a new life and do something meaningful. But you knew that most of them would never make it. They were trapped.

We think of the key, each in his prison. Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.

Those weren’t your words. They were Jungkook’s. Well, not his own words, actually. He had read them somewhere. He was the type to read, although he didn’t look like it at all. And you know how people who read are: they are good with words. They can shape reality with just a flick of their tongue. And damn if he got a way with words! That’s why you fell for him.

It wasn’t just the fact that he got the looks of an angel. He also talked like one. He could talk his way in and out of everything and you were pretty sure he could lie his way into heaven if he wanted to. He was an exceptional liar, a pathological one too. But you loved him anyway.

You believed him when he told you that he was going to turn your life upside down. Why wouldn’t you? He had already done it more times than you could count. He had done it since the day you first met in that dark movie theatre. You had always believed him and everything he said. He was the only man you ever loved, the first and the last you had sex with, and eventually the one you married.

He reminded you of your father. They had the same dangerous charm. Their eyes gleamed with the same light: that of a man who was willing to con the whole world and make it his own. Your father didn’t make it, though. He became a drunk mess and ended up in prison for attempted murder.

Only a pathetic fuck goes to jail for attempted murder. Either you go down for murder, or you don’t go down at all. That’s how much of a failure he was.

But you didn’t care about him. He used to beat your mother whenever he felt like it. Jungkook, on the other hand, never did that.

So, when he told you those words – “the less you know, the better” – you didn’t question him. You just believed him. And when he came home with a bag full of money and his hands covered in blood, you still didn’t question him. You just did as he asked and bent over the kitchen table to let him fuck you senseless.

You really didn’t care about what he did. Everyone in your block was somehow entangled with criminal activities. That’s just how it is when you can’t afford an honest life. What if he robbed a bank? What if he killed someone to get that money? So what? You’d love him anyway. You’d love him no matter what.

You still loved him when you heard the sirens wailing through the block and stop outside your shared house. You didn’t care about the fact that he just ripped your marriage into pieces. You always knew he was an Icarus.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be home for dinner.” He told you with a cocky smirk, while being pushed inside the police car.

And again, you believed him.

He was the only magician who ever managed to deceive you into thinking that his was actual magic and not just a trick. But when the jury found him guilty of aggravated robbery and murder, you felt like the lights had gone off and the curtain closed on his magic show. It was over. And now you were left standing in a sad empty circus, with just the distant music of the carousel to remind you of the fact that it was all a rouse. A convincing one for sure, but still a rouse.

When you saw him being taken away from the trial, you thought about those words he told you years before.

We think of the key, each in his prison. Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.

And you smiled to yourself. Somehow, even though your whole life had just gone to pieces, you found them ironic. Who would have thought, back then, that he would end up in an actual prison? Not you for sure.

The years had passed and although you never really moved on from Jungkook, you decided it was time for you to build a life for yourself. You were still young and pretty, so it wasn’t hard for you to fool some stupid rich boy from the city. Kim Seokjin was no Jeon Jungkook, but he had money and a steady job – one that could actually pay for rent, food and vices without raising any question from the authorities.

He didn’t know you were broke as fuck, and you did your best to hide it with the means you had and the cunning that your lowlife background had teach you. You would buy fancy dresses and hide the tag when you wore them, so that you could return them the day after. You would also tell Seokjin to come pick you up at work in Gangnam. You never worked there, of course, but he was dumb enough to believe you. It didn’t really matter: you planned on sleeping with him soon enough and let him knock you up. Men always get way too excited when you tell them that they can fuck you without putting on a condom.

What you didn’t plan, however, was to find yourself with a tattooed hand covering your mouth when one night you came back home from a date with Seokjin. At first you tried to scream and free yourself from the strong grip of the mysterious man that somehow got into your house, but you froze as soon as he spoke.

“Shh be quiet, baby. You want to be the one to rat me out?”

You’d recognize that voice among millions. It was Jungkook.

How did he get out? His sentence is not over yet. He still has to serve twenty more years.

You thought that by being quiet and staying still, he would loosen the grip on you, but he didn’t.

“Fancy dress you got here, honey.” He hissed, pressing his lips against your ear and making you shiver from his touch. His hand trailed along the side of your body, caressing the expensive fabric of the white dress.

“Was your new boyfriend, the one who bought it for you?”

Your eyes widened at that question and you again tried to free yourself without success.

“Yeah.. I know. I was surprised too when Yoongi came to visit me and told me you were seeing some fancy city boy with his head up his tuxedo-covered ass.”

You knew that no matter how soft his voice could sound, he was mad. He was always calm when he was really mad.. until he wasn’t calm anymore.

“I told him: no, Yoongi, there’s no way that’s true. My sweet Y/N would never do something like that. She is a faithful wife, not some dirty whore who’s ready to sell her cunt to the first Richie Rich who comes around.”

He chuckled darkly.

“But he brought me the photos. So I guess I was wrong.”

He abruptly turned you around, pushing your back against the wall. It was then, that you saw him. His hair got longer and he somehow got some tattoos on his right arm. His dark eyes were gleaming in the dark with a mischievous light that you had never seen on him – not when he was looking at you, at least.

His fingers tightened around your jaw, forcing you to look at him straight in the eyes.

“Did you let him touch you?”

“N-no.” You muttered, with your heartbeat racing fast and your eyes wide open like those of an innocent doe who was just caught by a cold-blooded hunter.

He pressed his body on yours, breathing heavily against your lips without breaking eye contact.

“If you are lying to me.. I’ll know, Y/N.” He hissed. And you knew that those words were a clear warning.

“I expect your cunt to be tighter than it was when I left. If it isn’t..” he chuckled, slightly tilting his head to the side and licking his lips while caressing gently your reddened cheek. “..well, I guess I’ll stretch your holes so wide that there won’t be any doubt about whose little whore you are.”

He didn’t give you any time to breathe, let alone answer. He pressed his lips on yours with such passion that he sucked the air out of your lungs. And you melted.

You still loved him, after all. You still craved for his touch, which you missed every single night that you’ve spent in your empty bed. Every time you touched yourself, you always closed your eyes and think of him: his hands, his lips, his toned body, his cock, his breath, his smell.. everything. No man could turn you on like he did.

You could tell he had changed. He got more violent, more possessive. But for some reason, that didn’t bother you. Somehow, in a fucked up way, you enjoyed it. It was like you just had the proof that he truly loved you. That you were sill his.

You run your fingers through his hair, tightening your grip while kissing him deeply. A muffled sigh escaped from your lips when his tongue entered your mouth, exploring every corner of it like that was the last kiss he was ever gonna give you.

“Touch me.” You murmured, like it was a prayer sent straight to God.

The first one that was actually answered, since Jungkook’s hands quickly slipped under your dress while you kicked off your shoes. He turned you around again, face against the wall, and removed your underwear.

You gasped at his touch on your wet entrance, arching your back so that he could see your pussy in its full glory.

“Fuck, I missed you so much.” He murmured, starting to run his palm on your pussy.

You moaned, grinding against his hand in search of his touch while he steadied your hips with the strong grip of his free hand.

“Already purring like a kitten, baby?”

Another moan escaped from your lips, this time loudly, when he inserted his middle finger in your throbbing core, feeling it clench around his touch.

“Such a good girl. You didn’t lie to me.” He commented in a hiss, inserting another finger to test your tightness and starting to pump his digits on your most sensitive spot.

“So tight. Will you be able to take my cock, baby?”

“Y-yes. Yes I will.” You answered in between your heavy breaths and moans, chasing the pleasure that his movements gave you.

You suddenly let out a sharp cry when you felt his hand slapping your ass cheek without notice. But the lingering pain had the only effect of heightening the pleasure and getting you even more wet.

Hu chuckled, spanking you one more time.

“Fuck! Jungkook!”

He had always loved it when you said his name during sex, and he still did apparently, since he started pumping his digits harder inside you. The lewd sounds of your pussy soon filled the silence of the night.

When his other hand reached your clit and started drawing quick circles around it, your legs started shivering and your eyes rolled back from the pleasure. If it wasn’t for the wall, you’d probably fall on your knees when the orgasm hit you. You moaned so loud that you almost sounded like a dying animal.

“That’s it baby. Cum for me.”

His words only made it worse and you couldn’t help but feel like a fire ball hit you right in the belly. Your walls clenched around his pumping digits and soon your climax reached an unprecedented high, making you ejaculate on his hand while waves of pleasure went through your body like an electric shock.

“Oh my God!” Was is reaction to the mess you just made.

He let out a satisfied laugh, retracting his fingers from your overstimulated core just to smear your arousal on your own lips.

“Open your mouth, baby. I want you to taste yourself – the way I make you feel.”

You obeyed, and even if you were still panting and barely able to function, you took his fingers in you mouth, rotating your tongue around them and sucking every drop of your own arousal before letting them out with a pop.

“Good girl.” He praised you softly, caressing your hair. “Now get on your knees for me.”

Again, you obeyed without hesitation while he unzipped his pants and pumped himself a few times in front of your face.

You looked up at him, licking your lips. You could still taste your slick on them, but you wanted something different. You wanted his taste. And you were so eager to get it, that you didn’t waste any time.

You soon wrapped your mouth around his hard cock, sucking it like it was your last meal. But letting you have it your way was not Jungkook’s plan. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, tying them up in a ponytail that was only held by his own hand, and started thrusting inside your mouth until tears were gathering at the corner of your eyes.

A deep growl escaped from his lips at the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock and your messed up make up smeared all over your face.

“My little whore. Always so good for me.” He said through his panting, face fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

And probably there wasn’t gonna be one. For all you knew, the police could come at any moment and take him back to his cell – this time, forever. But, if anything, the thrill just added something extra to the whole situation, making it even more exciting.

The rhythm of his deep thrusts against your throat soon made you gag. And that was it. That was what he wanted, what he was looking for.

“Oh shit! Fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

His cum shot straight down your throat, filling you with his warm liquid. You loved his taste. You always had since the first time he sucked his cock. You were only fifteen back then, and you had no idea how to do it. But he was older than you and he guided your every movement, teaching you what he liked and what he wanted. You thought you’d spit him out, but you always swallowed. You liked it. You liked the taste of his orgasm and you liked to know that you were the one to make him cum like that.

“Take off your dress and bra.”

Your jaw was still feeling numb and your legs weak when he ordered you to undress, but you still obeyed, in a daze.

“Now bend over the couch.”

Again, you didn’t raise any question. You just crawled towards the couch and rested your chest on the pillows, closing your eyes while you tried to catch your breath. You could feel your heart beating strong, muffled by the padded fabric of the couch. The only other sound was that of his steps, getting closer and closer to you until he dropped heavily on his knees, resting his large hands on your ass cheeks and parting them.

He let out a pleased moan and you could feel his gaze devouring the most intimate part of your body. You didn’t even need to look or feel him to know that he was getting hard again. And you felt proud. You arched your back and spread your legs a big wider, offering him the whole show. You loved to know that he wanted you so bad. Just the thought of his desire aroused you more than anything else.

He chuckled, spanking you again and making you gasp at the sharp feel of his palm against your sensitive skin.

“God, you’ve always loved being a slut for me. Am I right?”

You thought the question was rhetoric, so you didn’t respond. But when he gave you another spank and bent over you, pulling your hair to get your ear closer to his lips, you knew he wanted to hear your voice.

“Answer me. Whose little slut are you?”

“Y-yours, Jungkook. I’m your little slut.”

He chuckled darkly, letting go of your hair while caressing your reddened ass cheek and pressing his lips on your ear.

“Good girl.” He praised you, slowly starting to align the tip of his cock with your wet entrance.

You whimpered at the feel, arching your back even more to look for more friction. Seeing you like that, so eager to have him inside of you, was all it took for him to sink deep inside your core, filling you with all his length and stretching your walls.

“Fuck! You got so tight, baby.”

You did. While he was away, you didn’t have sex with anybody and you only started thinking about that when you met Seokjin. Not because you really wanted to, but because you felt like it was a necessary step to get what you wanted. Sure, Jin was handsome, but he was no Jungkook. Your husband, your first love, your first everything – he was the only one who could make you wet just by staring at you. He had that power – the power to make your head spin like you had too many drinks.

Jungkook hold your hips in place and started pounding you hard, making you moan at every thrust until you were just a hot wet mess at his mercy.

“Jungkook..” That was all you could say, breathless, while feeling your walls clench around his cock like they were holding to dear life.

He went balls deep inside of you, fucking you for all the times he didn’t in the past three years. It was intoxicating, and you knew you could never get enough of that feeling – of him.

“Jungkook.. cum inside me, please.” You whimpered, pleading him with a mere whisper when you felt his thrusts getting sloppier and more imprecise. Your orgasm was close too, but you wanted to make sure he didn’t pull out. You wanted to feel every drop of him.

“Y/N.. fuck!” Was all he said while he sank deep inside your core, filling you up with his cum and pumping it in to get you closer to your climax.

You came with his name on your lips and the lewd sounds of your sex filling your ears like the sweetest music you’d ever heard. Your hands grabbed the fabric of the couch and you could feel your saliva dripping down the side of your lips, parted by the intense sensation of your orgasm.

He dropped with his chest pressing on your back. You could feel his heavy breath against your skin and his heartbeat trying to get a calmer pace while the high of the climax was slowly fading away.

“We are leaving tonight, baby.” He whispered in your ear after a few moments of silence. “I’m not going back to jail. I’m not gonna let them tear us apart again.”

And again, even after everything that had happened, you believed him.

I guess this is my prison. You are. But I don’t want to escape.

“I love you, Jungkook.”

“I love you too, baby.”

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jk #jjk #jeon jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook criminal au #smut #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts criminal au #fanfic #oneshot #bts oneshot #bts x reader #criminal au

825 notes · View notes

thediscovererandfinder · 2 years

Text

You Won’t Make it???

“You will fail.”

“You will not succeed.”

Life is hard. Only 1% make it.”

“You are not one of them.”

“You don’t work, talk, or look like them. Quit trying...”

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --

A few weeks back, I was talking to a very successful banker on Wall Street. A senior associate at a large investment bank out of New York. I was pumped to get on the call. Ecstatic to meet such a successful and well-respected individual in his field. When I jumped on the phone with him, the conversation started off normally.

“How’s your week been?”

- “Very busy, but getting through it all, how about yourself”

“This weeks been better than average and the weather is really cheering me up”

The casual small talk to briefly open ourselves up to each other to discuss some more serious questions down the line. I was amazed to see the amount of relatedness we shared in terms of speech style, speed, and understanding of each other. The conversation started to flow like butter. However, then he gave a very detailed and prolonged background of himself which was uncommon, but great learning and essay points for later.

“My background is non-traditional.”

...

“”I was raised homeless for a period of 50 days, I lived with my mom - many days I was alone.”

“I was uninterested in school. I just wanted to live...”

The conversation turned into a very deep and moving back story. He shared his attempts to be a consistent student in school who would always show up and put his best work forward. However, not having a dad or a strong mentor to look towards made his life challenging. It seemed unrealistic for him to become anything better than his mom was, a local school janitor. She worked at 12$ an hour and could not support the medical expenses nor cost of living.

Though he tried to normalize himself and remain consistent at school with friends and peers he had grown up with, he was always an outlier.

“It was impossible to connect with others.”

“They looked at my clothes... my shoes... and the lack of belongings: tech, jewelry, video games... and most importantly the normal “high school experiences.”

He had to work. There was little time to socialize and gossip. He spent his time studying for school, or working as a cashier for years on end. Though when times where free, he would read. Read tons. He got sucked into the world of finance, where he read hundreds of books of the years. He talked to his friends about the Wall Street life.

His friends laughed it out. They said, “you need connections, buddy, to get onto Wall Street.” “You have to be rich to make it there.” While the news was disappointing, he saw potential and inspiration through books he read which showed people with normal backgrounds and great intellect and most importantly intellectual curiosity and stimulation making it to the top levels of the banks. He stuck to a disciplined schedule of work, homework, school, and reading. No internships, only jobs or reading to survive. With time, he landed a top banking job through massive information of knowledge that was incomparable to any of his peers in the day and age.

How does this help me?

You all have potential. However, others will side track it. You will feel the impostor syndrome. You will feel like you don’t belong. You will feel that you are not enough. If I learned one thing, if someone from rock bottom of the socioeconomic class can make it, anyone can through following written inspiration and motivation and derailing all verbal distractions that float aimlessly and clutter your brain. Others stories are meaningful, the one’s who have gone through it and can vouch for themselves. Listen and watch those who you strive to become, its not always impossible. But thats what people will say.

#perspective #positive #goals #motivation #motivate #motivateyourself #relationship goals #dreams #i give up #trying my best #you got this #inspire #learn #personal development #self growth #gratitude

35 notes · View notes

eleanorfenyxwrites · 3 years

Text

[It’s a bit late but here’s a quick oneshot for JGY&JZX’s birthday]

[Masterpost of my other writing]

Jin Guangyao’s hands are fighting hard to twitch in barely-restrained frustration.

It’s been a long week leading up to tonight, and tonight has been unending. He makes a tired mental note to start the next banquet at least two hours earlier than this one in an attempt to ensure it won’t end the following morning, but he already knows all that will accomplish is a banquet that’s two hours longer.

He straightens out of the bow he’d just offered to the last Sect Leader departing the hall to return to the guest quarters and turns away from the temptation of the path that leads to the private residences to instead return inside. The servants who had stayed awake through the night to tend to the guests have already been dismissed, but those who will clean the hall first thing this morning haven’t yet arrived to receive their assignments, so he sits down to wait in the silence.

It echoes in the too-large space, his breathing and the occasional rustle of fabric the only sounds that break it. He knows he should feel satisfied, accomplished. The banquet had, for once, gone without a hitch. Even Jin Guangshan hadn’t found anything to complain about once he was deeply enough in his cups, which was a victory in and of itself. No one had embarrassed themselves or their family too badly, and certainly not in ways that couldn’t be explained away with the expensive alcohol that Jin Guangyao had liberally plied them all with.

The only feeling he can muster, though, is ‘tired’. He’s tired. All he can think of is his bed with a sort of longing he usually reserves for Lan Xichen when he allows himself to indulge in wishing for him. He can practically feel the soft caress of it, the covers silky smooth against his skin and his pillow soft under his head. It would be so easy to sink into it and close his eyes, embrace unconsciousness for a precious pair of hours before he’ll have to be up and tending to whatever will be needed from him next.

He’s roused from his half-asleep daydreaming about his bed by the arrival of the morning’s servants and he stands, brushing himself off and painting his smile back onto his aching lips as he gives them their tasks as politely as he can, with ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s falling from his lips far more often than they should. But none of the gentry are around to hear him, and the servants appreciate his understanding of their job, so he just lets it happen. And then, mercifully, he can leave the hall. He leaves at a sedate pace because it’s the only pace he’s capable of maintaining. He holds his posture correctly because he will never feel relaxed enough in Jinlintai not to.

Approaching the door to his chambers at long last, he finds that for the first time in his life he’s dismayed to see Lan Xichen.

“Er-ge,” he greets, fatigue feathering the edges of the call. “Are you alright?”

“A-Yao.” Lan Xichen is already smiling as he turns to face him but it fades quickly into concern as they go through their usual dance - he starts a bow, Lan Xichen puts his hand under his arms to stop him and offers him that smile that Jin Guangyao would move mountains for. “Have you slept yet?” he asks as they drop their hands, lingering as long in the embrace as possible before they part, as is their wont.

“Was there something I could help you with, er-ge?” Jin Guangyao replies smoothly, pointedly not answering the question. Even as exhausted as he is if there’s one person in the world he would set it aside for without question, it’s Lan Xichen.

“Nothing urgent, I merely wanted to see you before the day truly begins. I feel I rarely get a chance to speak with you properly and this seemed the best opportunity.”

Jin Guangyao smiles softly, the smile that’s only for Lan Xichen, as he reaches out to open the door to his chambers and gesture for Lan Xichen to enter. “It is true that I will be busy for the remainder of the day after breakfast has been delivered to everyone. I will be ensuring that those guests who wish to leave may do so easily and that those who wish to stay will have everything they need to be comfortable. This is the best time to discuss anything you would like to with me.”

He follows Lan Xichen into the room and thinks longingly of combining his two greatest desires - truly the only thing better than falling into his bed would be falling into his bed which already also contains Lan Xichen - but he remains outwardly calm and poised as he settles in to begin preparing tea for the both of them. His hands tremble ever so slightly on the teapot but it doesn’t affect his pouring so he lets it slide.

It takes much more effort to keep his attention on the conversation than he’s used to expending when talking with Lan Xichen. Normally, of course, he has no trouble whatsoever devoting himself entirely to his companion when they’re in the same space and it’s everyone else that must work extra hard to earn the pleasure of his attention, which he still only gives them when it becomes absolutely necessary no matter how hard they try.

Today, however, the familiar cadences of Lan Xichen’s soothing tones are threatening to put him straight to sleep and he struggles to think of anything meaningful to add to their conversation. It is, thankfully, a relatively light one, nothing but small talk and some gentle flirtations. They’ve done this too many times to count by now, which is what saves him. The back-and-forth of it is familiar enough that he can manage to fumble his way through it gracefully enough to pass muster, to avoid alerting Lan Xichen to his condition.

They’re just discussing what the pair of them may do together during his next visit to Cloud Recesses when there’s a knock at the door and Jin Guangyao’s stomach sinks. He offers Lan Xichen an apologetic smile as he rises and crosses to the door, opening it to find a servant waiting, her head already bowed too low to see her face.

“Lianfang-Zun,” she greets softly, “this one is here to remind Lianfang-Zun at his request that it is time to prepare to bid farewell to those guests who are taking their leave.”

“Yes, thank you. You may return to your duties,” he replies with a smile. Always with a smile. The young woman bows and backs away, and Jin Guangyao must stand staring at the spot where she had been for a moment too long because Lan Xichen comes to stand behind him, radiating concern.

“A-Yao? Are you alright?”

“Of course,” he smiles. Keep smiling. “My apologies, er-ge, but I must return to my duties for the day.”

“Of course,” Lan Xichen parrots, still looking at him with that searching gaze. “May I return this evening?”

“I will be returning after supper, you are always welcome to join me er-ge.”

“Alright,” Lan Xichen agrees quietly, and there’s still a note of suspicion in his voice but he departs without further questioning or any fanfare. Jin Guangyao allows himself the space of three deep, slow breaths to close his eyes and pretend like that’s enough rest before he rallies to change his clothes and leave his rooms again to begin another long day of duties.

By the time he returns to his rooms in the evening - after leaving the evening meal the moment it was socially acceptable to do so but long before it was truly over - he feels hardly more alive than a fierce corpse. The stress of the preceding week and the lack of rest drag heavily at every possible part of him as he walks slowly. He hopes he simply looks sedate, composed, and/or relaxed rather than the truth, which is that he fears if he moves too quickly he’ll just pass out right there in the walkway. He rounds the corner at long last to come to the front of his own pavilion and squints a bit at the figure waiting by his door, forcing his blurry eyes to focus.

“Er-ge,” he greets, abruptly remembering that he had told Lan Xichen he could return. He’d forgotten amongst trying to accomplish everything else on his list while also trying to keep his exhaustion from negatively affecting his performance. “Would you like to come in for tea?”

“A-Yao,” Lan Xichen replies and he sounds disapproving - why does he sound disapproving? Jin Guangyao frantically rifles through his mental to-do lists for the day, trying to remember if there was something he was supposed to do for the other but hadn’t done, or if any of the things he had done could be blamed for the censure in his voice.

“Yes?”

“You haven’t slept.”

Ah.

“That is correct,” he sighs, because lying to Lan Xichen is something he will only do under absolute dire duress, he’s made that promise to himself many a time already and he’s not about to let a bit of sleep deprivation make him break his word. “Would you like to come in for tea?”

“Would I - A-Yao,” Lan Xichen returns, now sounding thoroughly scandalized. “You haven’t slept in two days and yet you still wish to ask me inside for tea?”

“I do not wish to be a poor host,” he replies rather matter-of-factly, punctuating the assertion with a sudden buckling of his knees that would have turned him into a boneless heap on the ground if not for Lan Xichen’s arms around him.

----

Jin Guangyao wakes slowly to a thoroughly unfamiliar sensation. He wants to wake up faster, to figure out just what the hell is going on, but his mind is uncomfortably sluggish, dipping in and out of uncomfortable dreams and a half-wakefulness that is somehow more disorienting than the eerie kaleidoscope of his dreams. He refuses to let the confusion of his own mind drag him back under, though, because the confusion of what’s happening physically is much more pressing.

There’s a gentle touch on his temple for a brief moment before it’s gone again, and then it returns in precisely the same spot. The touch is slow, rhythmic, and too firm to be the brush of an errant lock of hair against his skin, or a breath. It must be another person, though, because he’s not moving, and whatever is touching him must be being manipulated by someone or something else to move so fluidly. He’s at a loss to figure out what it is and he quickly grows frustrated with trying when his eyes won’t cooperate and just open so he can see what’s happening.

“Shh, you’re alright,” a voice murmurs at his side and that, at least, he recognizes. Lan Xichen.

They don’t often speak of those weeks they’d been on the run from the Wen, but Jin Guangyao will never in this life forget the way it made him feel to wake from nightmares only to hear Lan Xichen soothing him like this. He turns his head a bit towards that familiar voice and he just knows that Lan Xichen is smiling, can tell simply by the rustle of his robes, by the way the bed dips ever so slightly under the readjusted weight of his arm on the mattress. The touch on his temple leaves only for a fingertip to brush against his eyelids next, gentle sweeps across the thin skin of first one and then the other, and ah, there they are. Now that he knows where his eyes are and what they feel like to be touched he can force them open. It takes a monumental effort, but at least they’re open.

Once he’s pretty sure his eyes are going to stay open it takes another long moment for them to focus, but when they do he finds Lan Xichen sitting on the ground next to his bed facing him, his nearer arm resting on top of the covers at his side so he can resume gently stroking his temple with the back of his index finger. Mystery solved.

“A-Yao,” Lan Xichen sighs softly, soft reproach and tenderness suffusing his voice in equal measure. “What am I to do with you, hm?”

“Does Lan-gege not wish to hold his A-Yao?” he teases, his voice crackling and raspy with exhaustion in his throat. It might ruin the flirtatious effect a bit but he refuses to acknowledge it.

“I do, as frequently as A-Yao will allow. But these circumstances are a bit less than ideal, don’t you think?”

“If one does not wish to play the hero and catch fainting lovers every once in a while one should specify such preferences before it becomes necessary.”

That, at least, earns him a chuckle even as Lan Xichen tips his head back to close his eyes for a moment and sigh.

“Perhaps I am biased but I, personally, do not think a birthday banquet for your brother is worth working yourself to collapse,” Lan Xichen murmurs once he’s looking at him again, finger still moving hypnotically against his temple. “It was splendid, everything was accomplished to perfection, but I do not think it was worth your health like this.”

Jin Guangyao sighs at that and forces himself to stop staring at Lan Xichen to instead look up unseeingly towards the ceiling overhead. Lan Xichen leans in to press a kiss to his temple in place of the stroking of his finger before he straightens again. He’s waiting - Jin Guangyao can feel the expectation in his silence. He even knows what he’s waiting for, he just doesn’t know if he’s prepared to give it to him.

“I needed to meet my father’s expectations,” he finally supplies. A truth, but not the one he knows will properly answer Lan Xichen’s unasked question.

“His demands come with too high a price, then.” A long, weighty pause and then, because it’s Lan Xichen, he somehow knows precisely what to ask to get to the heart of the matter. “Will such expenses be spared for yours?”

“For my what?” Jin Guangyao replies numbly, playing dumb to earn himself a few more seconds.

“A-Yao.”

“A-Yao is tired, Lan-gege must ask his questions some other time,” he replies stubbornly. “There is entirely too much talking and not enough kissing happening at the moment for my liking.”

“A-Yao must tell Lan-gege what this one can do to spoil him just as richly when the appropriate day arrives,” Lan Xichen hums into a kiss to his cheek. Jin Guangyao turns his head from it but Lan Xichen only dips down to press his lips to the jump of his pulse just under his ear, undeterred in his gentle affections by the sudden souring of Jin Guangyao’s mood.

“Nothing,” he replies, too short, but Lan Xichen is, as ever, entirely too patient for his own good.

“Nothing, hm? Is it because we don’t have enough time to prepare? I’m sure I can find something lavish to treat you to even on short notice. When is it, A-Yao? In a month? Two?”

“Yesterday.”

Lan Xichen’s lips freeze on his neck and Jin Guangyao takes the opportunity to turn onto his opposite side, putting his back to Lan Xichen and his kindness that makes him ache in ways both good and bad.

“So I suppose you have plenty of time to prepare. Nearly a full year, you’re only short a day,” he adds without turning when Lan Xichen says nothing else.

“You...planned and executed a massive celebration for your brother on the birthday that you..share?”

“Per my father’s instructions, yes. I’m tired, er-ge, must we discuss this now?”

Lan Xichen, to his credit, says nothing. There’s really nothing to say, is the thing, and despite all the small talk the two of them often indulge in, Lan Xichen is not actually given to say unnecessary things. Anything casual they discuss is because they both delight in conversation and that gives the pleasantries their meaning. But here, now, with nothing to say that could help the situation and only things that could drive the thorn further into his pride, Lan Xichen is quiet even as he stands and slips onto the bed behind him.

This is familiar, at least. The sting of rejection that he hasn’t yet turned into fuel for his ambitions is burning in his chest but Lan Xichen is already laying himself behind him, holding him to his chest and stroking his hair as he nuzzles in close. Ever since he had first allowed Lan Xichen close to him like this that morning on the run this has apparently been Lan Xichen’s favorite way to hold him. He tangles their legs together and curls the arm pinned beneath them around Jin Guangyao’s chest, hand splayed over where his heart beats steadily in his chest as he uses the other hand to brush his hair back from his face with gentle passes of his palm. He pauses in his caressing only to lean forward and kiss his temple, his cheek, the curve of his ear, the back of his neck, resuming the slow passes of his hand as soon as he’s done for the moment.

“You should go back to sleep, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen whispers after the worst of the tension has bled out of Jin Guangyao’s muscles to be replaced with trembling exhaustion. “I will be here, I have already told the healer that I will tend to you until you wake feeling that you have recovered, whenever that will be. Rest.”

“I have things to do tomorrow,” Jin Guangyao sighs without an ounce of fight in him.

“If grown men cannot tend to themselves for a single day in a place as thoroughly staffed with servants as Jinlintai then they should not be trusted to run their Sects,” Lan Xichen replies implacably, his tone almost mild enough to hide the glint of steel beneath the surface. Almost. “I daresay they can request their own meals and entertainments for a day while you sleep.”

“My father-”

“Is in another drunken stupor,” Lan Xichen interrupts, a shocking amount of disdain (for him) laced through his voice now; he’s not even trying to hide it. Jin Guangyao sort of loves him for it. “When he is sober enough to hear it the healer will explain your condition should he attempt to send for you. Rest.”

Jin Guangyao knows he should protest, he should tell him that Jin Guangshan will only accuse him of being weak if he doesn’t fulfil his duties, no matter how tired he is. But Lan Xichen is like a furnace against his back, warm and soothing, the rhythm of his breathing and his heartbeat slow and easy and already lulling him to sleep. The hand in his hair is unnecessary but so comforting that Jin Guangyao nearly cries with it. He chooses to close his burning eyes instead, and he drops off to sleep almost immediately.

#The untamed fanfic #Xiyao #Lan Xichen #Jin Guangyao #Meng Yao #I'm bouncing back and forth between writing a few extra scenes for the fixit AU but this scene wouldn't leave my head #so i'm flinging it out into the world in the hopes that i'll help me write something else haha

41 notes · View notes

poptimus-prime · 3 years

Text

Here is what the kids call my highly disorganized, half-baked list of stuff that could have been done with Jack to make him a better character.

@yeetmetothehell I am sorry if you are disappointed by my ideas.

“Optimus was more like...Jack.” OK…so show us that.

In my opinion...Jack seems like he was intended to be written to be almost a parallel to Orion’s journey to becoming Optimus Prime, at least how he is used in the plot. Jack is described as “smart and responsible”, which can also be read as “hardworking and responsible” and really this can be achieved in narratively using a few points, IMO:

Long hours in his room/the library studying outside of work and school.

Filling out the background of the garage more with sketches/print outs of motorcycle blueprints (to keep the idea that Jack really wants a motorcycle and show hints of extreme dedication, but they’re kept in the garage rather than his room to metaphorically show that distance he’s put between himself and what he wants)

“Man of the House”/”Grew up too fast” (This will be discussed more later but TL;DR “I’ll handle the electric bill this month, Mom”)

Somewhat fragile work/school/life balance that Jack somehow perfectly maintained before meeting the team

Orion was very physically passive. Jack seems to be intended to be written as passive but it comes off as an apathetic reluctance that Orion doesn’t possess (Orion may not believe in violence but he clearly wasn’t unwilling to communicate his thoughts; it’s how he got the title of Prime in the first place.) However, Orion had to learn to become more outspoken over time probably, so we can keep him as being aloof/reluctant at the start of the series.

“Man of the House”/”Grew up too Fast”

It’s no secret Jack came from a nonconventional home; June is very explicitly portrayed as a single mother with a dad nowhere in the picture. However the situation surrounding Mr. Darby is unknown. The way June talks about it makes me personally feel like Jack’s dad either ran out or divorced June and doesn’t bother with his kid. Dysfunction in the family really just goddamn changes you TBH. (can confirm bc hi, I come from a dysfunctional home) Sometimes you just grow up super fast. Jack probably spent his childhood missing his mom as she worked shifts at the hospital and seeing how lonely and hurt she was. He maybe went out and got a job the first day he could and helps with smaller bills (“I’ll handle the electric bill this month.”), or maybe other expenses like groceries and his own phone bill. June probably makes enough to comfortably support her and her son, especially given her job and the cost of living in rural ass desert Nevada. But Jack still does this anyways--it’s how he copes with his issues after what happened with his dad. Doubling down and trying to be what he thinks is the bigger man because his dad couldn’t be fucked.

This would make the disruption him letting the bots into his life creates more staggering; June doesn’t expect her son to pay bills, but the sudden change in behavior (skipping out on work) would be a cause for concern because sudden shifts like that are Usually Signs that Something is Very Wrong. Especially because Jack is usually responsible and open with his mom; he would have told her if he was gonna cut hours at work, theoretically.

Jack feels like he has to constantly put his own wants aside to contribute to his household. Even if June doesn’t force this expectation upon him, it’s a feeling that he will have, especially if he watched his dad just abandon him and June. Maybe he has resentment towards his dad for this and that is causing some anger he’s keeping tightly under wraps? And maybe the bots give him an excuse to do something he actually wants to do for once or some excitement in his life and that’s why he goes along with it? Lots of options, people!

Clothing Choices: The Hoodie™

You are going to have to deal with me being a whore for costuming choices and what they can mean. The show has a problem with the humans wearing the same shit every time they’re on screen and I’d love to rant about all of them (yeah yeah I get it saving money) but I’m focusing on Jack right now. Give Jack a hoodie 2020. A grey one or some other dull and drab color. And make him actually always wear the hood (except like in scenes where he is working bc workplace dress codes obviously) As time progresses, the drab hoodie is changed to a more vibrant color, but he still always has the hood over his head. And then, at a pivotal moment, the boy takes the hood off. (You could even throw in Miko cracking a joke about Jack actually having hair if you really wanted TBH.) Why this? The narrative is that Jack is constantly holding himself under wraps because of his self-imposed responsibilities. As he starts to become more into his own, he decides to express himself more with brighter colors, but still has some reservations. When he takes the hoodie off, that’s when he’s fully realized himself in this process and thus completes the parallel.

Actually make him interact with Optimus in a meaningful manner.

Arcee can still be his guardian in the field and I think working on strengthening their relationship is vital. But also, if you’re gonna make Jack the confidante holding the key to Vector Sigma, there actually has to be...meaningful interaction. Optimus asking Jack what he’s so engrossed in reading and Jack explaining the book he’s got with passion before shutting himself up and saying “it’s kinda dumb though” or something. And Optimus just responds “I don’t think it’s dumb, tell me more.” Coaxing him towards more self-discovery and expression. Optimus maybe sees more of his old self in Jack and starts attempting to be a quasi-paternal figure without really thinking about it because he is, after all, Dadimus. Jack maybe lashes out about how he doesn’t need Optimus to be his dad and that makes the space between them tense for a while. Eventually Jack comes to apologize and maybe there’s an important Talk.. Just a few ideas I will expand on later. I feel like forgiveness and lack thereof is a good theme--I know I was held back for a long time because of how convoluted the concept of forgiveness is with family.

The Character Arc

So, what would Jack’s character development throughout the events of season 1 be? My basic idea for a Jack arc that mirrors Orion’s self-realization and coming into Prime-hood without being a carbon copy is essentially:

Jack is portrayed as a responsible, hardworking, studious teenager who constantly turns down chances for fun and excitement to handle his responsibilities. Has clear dreams for after high school and for his own personal life; but he’s constantly contemplating and changing his mind about whether he will or not because he’s extremely dedicated to helping his mom and all that. However, he still gets super curious about Arcee and gets swept up by her in the Vehicon chase, and he still has whispers of courage and protects Raf during the altercation. He first tries to ditch Team Prime because he’s concerned about his responsibilities, but eventually returns because he’s drawn to the opportunity to finally go buck wild for once in his life (even if he spends his time being hesitant about everything.) His hesitancy and dedication to severe self-imposed responsibility is a result of his inability to move on from what his dad did to him and his mom; he’s under the impression that he 1) Has to forgive someone to move on, and thus 2) He cannot move on because his dad isn’t there to bother to say sorry and take on his position as Dad. In essence, he becomes less the character telling Miko to stop and more the character being pushed by Miko to be more adventurous. In lulls in action, Optimus starts to take interest in him when he notices his constant hesitance to express himself and is just being dragged along rather than going willingly. Has a conversation with him about a book Jack’s reading, which Jack attempts to shut down because it’s “dumb and childish,” but Optimus urges him to continue. The idea that June knows about Arcee as a bike and Jack explaining that he bought a motorcycle as a fixer-upper for dirt cheap can stay. (He probably still is saving up for his motorcycle.)

The longest portion, after Optimus starts interacting with Jack on a level of bonding and gently coaxing him to be himself— Jack becomes more outspoken and he’s shown as curious, analytical, quick witted, and has a deep sense of justice. Being young and craving a childhood lost to his trauma and self-imposed obligations to help his mom with running the household, he suddenly starts spending more time at the base pursuing hobbies and going on missions rather than studying and work, which concerns June. She tries to press Jack, and is met with what can be described as typical teenage headbutting that gets progressively worse. She grounds Jack after the fight, MECH takes her, the rescue happens. (That makes sense to stay in this narrative IMO.) Around this time, Optimus has effectively started becoming Jack’s own Alpha Trion—teaching him things that he’s picked up that he may feel apply to Jack. Jack interprets one of these lessons as Optimus trying to be “dad” and he’s not having it. Makes it VERY clear that he does not need a dad (“didn’t need one before and sure as fuck don’t need one now”) and definitely snaps at Optimus, which then pushes his progress in the arc closer to the end. He eventually comes back to apologize, and Optimus forgives him. He and Optimus have a heart-to-heart about one of the hardest lessons Optimus has had to learn—how to let go of the past without forgiving those who have hurt you and refuse to make amends, so that you may determine your own future. It’s very clear he’s talking about Megatron, even though he never says his name. Jack takes this lesson to heart.

His final bit of development before the hood removal thing probably happens during the events of “Rock Bottom” and reinforces that hard lesson, right when he’s faced with the option to off Megatron. Maybe there’s some taunting about how Optimus preaches softness and forgiveness too much when Jack refuses to kill him. Jack gets angry, and he’s about to fucking do it. But then he stops, takes a breath, and says “Optimus doesn’t preach forgiveness, he preaches moving on from those who refuse to move on themselves. He will never forgive you, but he’s learned to live on despite what you’ve done.” Soon after this, when Megatron comes to the base, Jack takes off his hood, stares Megatron right in the face, and says “This is not forgiveness, Megatron. Don’t you forget that.” Later, when Optimus gives him the key, he tells him something along the lines of “you have grown since we’ve met, Jack, and even though there is still a long way for you to go...” he hands Jack the key. “...Remember that even I am a work in progress.”

Anyways this is again, half-baked. And needs lots of polishing. But it’s something.

#luna.docx #No I will not be tagging this outside the blog #I am self conscious about it

48 notes · View notes

supermyeon22 · 4 years

Text

A NEW YEAR

A poor excuse to write something fluffy and not something heavily angsty as is usual when we are talking about Lucien.

1st time writing something about MLQC too, so please bare with me 🤣

I was planning this to be a drabble but I think I exceeded the words count... Anyway 👀

Couple: Lucien x MC

Words: 1552

Genre: this is an attempt of something fluffy.... Kind of...

I think I failed. English is not my main language so, I'm sorry if I have some inaccuracies or is grammatically weird

The great hall was beautifully decorated with thousands of lights and Christmas ornaments. The enormous chandeliers offered golden reflections throughout the room offering a magical and celebratory atmosphere and the hundreds of people were happily chatting in small groups, drinking champagne and eating tiny and elaborate snacks offered by the waiters dressed in black.

The women in their beautiful long dresses and the men impeccably dressed in tuxedos. The scientific society in Lianyun had decided to organize a New Year's Eve benefit in favor of organizations against child trafficking and to sponsor some orphanages that were in a difficult economic position.

It certainly wasn't the way MC had planned to spend the new year, but Lucien was one of the guests of honor and it wasn't as if the two of them could simply pass it on and celebrate the arrival of the new year at home, plus it was a very noble cause and Lucien had agreed to it from the beginning.

From the other end of the beautiful room, MC, wrapped in a beautiful red dress that left her shoulders uncovered and that Lucien had given her just for the occasion, drank casually from her glass of Champagne while nodding slightly at what the group of women she was with were saying, while looking at Lucien, elegantly dressed in his tuxedo, who was exchanging a few words with some colleagues who seemed to be congratulating him on the latest achievements at his research center while he kept his characteristic expression of placidity.

He really looked handsome, thought MC, with his elegant but relaxed posture and his hair combed to the right side. He seemed to embody that classic elegance of classic movie stars that they both loved to watch so much. Her cheeks were quickly colored, she sighed again and took a sip from her glass

"So you're a TV producer, right?" asked a woman in a green dress , giving her a condescending look.

To tell the truth, she didn't care about what the people said, they always judged her for her youth, they thought she was not capable of running a company like Miracle Entertainment. However, she smiled gently at the woman, nodding sweetly

"That's right, I'm the president of Miracle Entertainment" the woman exchanged a meaningful look with the lady next to her.

How MC hated all that

"the producer of Miracle Finder, isn't it? That's where you met the young Professor Lucien," asked a young, friendly woman standing in front of her.

MC nodded slightly, crossing one of her arms over the other in a clear sign of her discomfort, even holding the glass of Champagne. The conversation was taking a turn towards her personal life, she did not like people she barely knew to know so much about her intimacy.

"So you're both very serious... when will the wedding take place?"

MC stared at the woman in green who was watching with great interest, the hand in which she was holding the glass. She had obviously noticed the stunning diamond ring on her left ring finger.

Doesn't this woman have anything else to do? the young woman wondered.

"we want the wedding to be in the spring, something very small and private..." the woman in green, who MC knew was the wife of one of Lucien's colleagues, kept talking

"My daughter is a fervent admirer of his work and he has always been so polite and diligent with her we thought he would ask her to be his girlfriend..." the woman sighed "they would have made a wonderful couple" two of the women there looked at her in shock.

"Your daughter is a brilliant student, Mrs. Song, but her grades got much worse last semester, has she told you that she is no longer part of the research group? Maybe if she had spent her time studying more and not flirting with her colleagues we would have a better concept of her". Lucien's soft, cadenced and deep voice was heard behind her, looking back in surprise and feeling relief for the first time in the middle of the night.

Mrs. Song blushed violently as Lucien smiled at her in a gesture that might seem like kindness but which MC knew perfectly, she knew he was enjoying the situation.

Lucien took her hand and apologized kindly to the ladies gathered there. They walked to the other end of the room which was not so crowded and the view of the gardens, beautifully lit with thousands of little lights and combined with the snow, was like coming out of a dream.

"I left you alone for a couple of minutes and that woman was already claiming me as her daughter's property" the young professor took her little hand to his lips and deposited a chaste kiss on the soft skin of the back of her hand.

"She is a tenacious woman" the pout on MC's lips made her look very adorable, despite her stunning dress and red lips "I felt it was better to let her talk"

She took the opportunity to lean against the wall, bringing her glass to her lips again as she looked into his eyes and drank the last of the Champagne she had left. His other hand, which was not occupied with hers, soon went to her cheek, caressing it lightly with the back of his fingers.

"at the expense of my good name in front of those women? " laughed the young man "it is unfortunate that my honor is not defended by my wife" he said while he had a funny glow in his eyes

MC blushed violently and looked down. She still was not used to call herself his wife; they were not married yet, it was true that the wedding of both would be in spring but they were living together and sleeping in the same bed, so in very practical terms, she was his wife.

"stop teasing me!" Lucien laughed softly as he placed his hand on her head, stroking her chestnut hair and trying not to mess it up too much.

"you were too busy talking to your colleagues And I didn't want to make you look bad"

Lucien warmly squeezed her hand that he was holding. As if he wanted to tell her not to worry

"You could never make me look bad, in that case, maybe I'll be the one to make MC look bad if I do something wrong" the young woman frowned slightly while playing with the lapels of Lucien's tuxedo after having left her empty glass aside

"I doubt it... Professor Lucien knows a lot of things" MC looked at him with curiosity in his eyes "and speaking of knowing things, how did you know I needed help? You arrived just at the right time"

"You could say it's a sixth sense I have when it comes to MC?"

Lucien brought his hand back to her cheek, bringing his body dangerously close as he looked into her eyes, both of them could feel each other's rapid heartbeat

"something like Spiderman's spidey sense?"

Lucien's honest laugh made her smile placidly, she thought about how beautiful he was just smiling and how much she loved that man, how intense and overflowing that feeling was for him.

"You could say. However, I want to think that I am a little more romantic so I could say that I knew because we are soulmates".

Soulmates, certainly romantic

His eyes were two beautiful galaxies in which she reflected herself; mysterious, deep and unfathomable. It is as if they possessed all the love of the universe, all the love that was for her.

His face approached hers, stopping a few millimeters from her lips, both of them inebriated with desire for each other. However, at this point, it mattered little to them to find themselves in a public place and surrounded by people.

The lips of both of them joined as if they were magnetically attracted, with the own urgency of two persons who desire each other passionately and with the tenderness of those who love intensely, he with one hand on her waist and other on her cheek, and she with her hands firmly leaned on his chest.

The movement of the people around them followed by the unmistakable sound of the fireworks made them slowly separate their lips and look through the glass of the huge French style window next to them. Hundreds of fireworks covered the sky, turning it magenta, green and blue, purple and yellow.

MC watched with a big smile the beautiful spectacle outside, still hugging her fiancé. The people around them laughed and took pictures while the music continued to play in the background. Lucien surrounded her shoulders and kissed her head with love. He had just seen his watch, which shows that it was just midnight.

MC raised his head and smiled broadly at him.

"Happy New Year, Lucien"

Lucien smiled back at her, noticing how the colors of the fireworks outside reflected on her beautiful face.

"Happy New Year, my sweet butterfly. May this year that begins by your side be filled with the brightest colors".

#first time writing #mlqc fic #mr love lucien #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #koi to producer #love and producer #mlqc lucien #evol x love #mldd #i really tried #I love Lucien so much #A poor attempt #But it has my heart #uwu

46 notes · View notes

honeyhenry · 4 years

Text

Dearly Beloved

the request: Nikki& Dom and y/n’s parents reactions on her and Tom’s wedding day? thank you 💕

A/N: Thank you for requesting! This is my first ever request – I hope I do it justice! It was meant to be a blurb but I’ve hit 1.5k!!

Warnings: one swear word, nothing else unless you hate fond memories and fluff lmao

It was a beautifully serene moment for all those stood waiting in the building on the warm summer’s day. For some, it was a chance to see a close friend or family member join together with their loved one in marriage, becoming husband and wife. For a select few, however, today was the day that their sweet young child was getting married. It’s every parents dream for their little boy or girl to find someone who could only attempt to love them even half as much as they have since they were born. They now had to trust this other person to hold their sweet baby’s heart, and let them go off on their own adventure, called ‘life’, together.

The crowd came to a soft hush, with some guests craning over to see when you would be making your entrance. Every second ticking on painstakingly slowly, while the best man was doing his best to comfort the groom as he attempted to restrain himself from looking over his shoulder.

The music starts, a tuneful organ piece that reverberates within Tom’s insides. You smile from the other end of the room, knowing that today really is about to be the happiest day of your life. Clutching your father’s arm, you begin to walk.

All eyes are on you. Tom has turned around now to watch you walk towards him. He is smiling so proudly and excitedly, like a little kid on Christmas morning, and you’re the angel on top of the tree. His angel, in a matter of moments. He knows that he is one lucky bastard. All eyes stay fixed on you for a few moments, some quietly gasping and marvelling at you, until one pair turns away to look back at Tom.

While your mother could not take her eyes off of you despite seeing you in your dress earlier that day, Tom’s mother turns back to her eldest boy standing at the front of the room in a crisp tux, watching him fall in love with you all over again. Clutching her husband’s hand, she was overjoyed that her son had found someone he loved with his whole heart – he deserved nothing less. She’d had such a good feeling about you from the start, becoming close with you in no time, treating you like one of her own. The day Tom sat his parents down and told them he was going to propose to you, they were both overjoyed, elated that you were going to officially be a part of the family forever.

Nikki remembers the first time she realised her son was in love, even though the two of you had just been on a few dates by that point. Tom had come home for dinner one Sunday afternoon, acting coy but shining with happiness as he helped out in the kitchen. It was quite unlike him to not be outside messing around with the rest of the family, and so as he was innocently set the table, she had shut the door and demanded that she knew what he was hiding. A “Nothing, I swear Mum!” tainted with a grin and then a chuckle, had obviously meant something, and before everyone sat to eat only ten minutes later, Tom had told her about the wonderful girl he’d met; that things were “going slow, but mum, i really really like her. it’s only been a month but..well, when did you know with Dad?”

That’s all the confirmation she had needed. As a firm believer in “when you know, you know”, she had listened to her son’s rambling thoughts, wanting to be sure that the relationship was genuine and healthy. “Of course I don’t want to get caught out, but i swear i can see us being together for ages” he had mentioned at one point, and well, that’s when Nikki knew that she had to meet you, to find out who exactly was making her son a lovestruck fool.

And now here was her boy, forever that lovestruck fool, getting married.

Dom looks down at his wife and smiles, following her line of sight to where Tom stands beaming. He gives her hand a squeeze, knowing how happy his family are right at this moment. He’s got a good speech as part of his toast for later on, but for now he wants to take this all in. Watch his firstborn, with crinkled eyes and a bright smile, marry his love. His rambunctious, rebellious boy who made him a father. Tom was growing up far too fast for his liking. Sure, he had left home, and travelled the world independently, working hard and creating great opportunities for himself, but to start his own life with you, as a husband and one day a father? Well, Dom just wonders where his sweet 3 year old who ate strawberry jam straight from the jar, went?

Your own mother is trying so hard not to cry, after all, her makeup is expensive and she doesn’t want to ruin the photos later on. (Spoiler: she ends up crying at the reception but that may have been slightly wine-induced.) Her sweet baby marrying a handsome, caring, and funny man that she couldn’t have picked better for you if she’d tried. She knows the hardships you’ve faced while together, but knows that it’s due to those times that the two of you have grown closer, and become even more committed to each other. She was so happy, yet a little apprehensive at first when you’d told her about Tom. How you truly thought the world of him. She wanted to make sure that this “superstar actor guy” wasn’t messing you around.

Realising that Tom absolutely adored and cared for you, that he made you laugh until you cried, and that already he could envision growing old with you? Well, that did melt her initial apprehension. She loves the love he has for you, and even after 5 years, he’s yet to be in her doghouse. Although he was cutting it close – literally – when he had arrived at your parents house for dinner, with a buzzcut. Your mother has never been as speechless in her life, and she’s possibly the most grateful person out of everyone that today his hair is swept back neatly, a few curls kindly framing his face.

She wants her grandchildren to have Tom’s hair.

And your father, oh how he holds you close, knowing that as soon as you get to the end of the aisle, that he’ll be letting you go, placing your hand in Tom’s and knowing that he won’t be the only man in your life anymore. That after this ceremony, you’ll be hand in hand with another man – a mere boy – who is going to be looking after you for the rest of your days. He remembers so clearly, that quiet May afternoon when Tom had come to the house to ask for his and your mother’s blessing. He had been calm and focused on what he wanted to say, open to any and all questions, praying that the answer would be ‘yes’. Your father had pretended to consider it thoughtfully, earning a dig in the ribs from your mother, before he shook Tom’s hand, laughing and putting the younger man’s mind at ease. It hadn’t just been a “yes” – it had been an “of course, welcome to the family, son.”

He knew that Tom would do his best every single day to make you feel adored and important, that he would strive to encourage and celebrate you; it came so naturally to him. He was worthy of you, even though deep down, your father will always believe that no one will ever be good enough for his little girl. And yet here he is, walking you down the aisle, smiling at you and turning to each friendly face he recognises in the congregation, giving a knowing nod to your soon-to-be father- and mother-in-law. He’s going to fight tooth and nail with Dom over who gets the best grandparent name – when the time comes of course. No rush, as you’ll always be a baby to your father.

You reach the end of the aisle, smiling through the veil as you can see Tom’s sweet face, his eyes glassy and he swallows quickly before cracking a huge grin. You hug your father, squeeze his hand, and let him go.

“Look after her” he whispers between you and Tom.

“Of course”, is Tom’s quick and meaningful response, his brown eyes sincere and full of promise.

Your fiancé lifts your veil, smiling as he places it down gently, getting his first proper glimpse of you. He grins, and the sight is enough to make you giggle slightly.

“You look so beautiful” he whispers in awe, with such heartfelt candor.

Your mother clutches your father’s hand as he watches on proudly. Nikki and Dom watch fondly too, as Tom takes your hand, holding it firmly but gently as if nothing in the world could ever get him to let go. The two couples know all too well of the little whispers, faint blushes, and nervous, happy smiles. They’ve experienced that themselves many moons ago, and now it’s yours and Tom’s turn.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

---------------------------------------------

any feedback is greatly appreciated, thank you for reading!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland writing #tom holland oneshot #tom holland #pls pls pls show up in the tags

69 notes · View notes

aseriesofunfortunatetexts · 4 years

Note

Frank/Beatrice, unrequited?

I couldn’t manage it exactly (I assume this was a request for the AU meme), because I don’t really see them as anything but a wonderful brotp, but I did produce something. Something that exceeds three sentences by... quite a bit. It’s 2000 words.

I put it on AO3 too, in case you’d prefer to read it there. Enjoy!

***

Ernest can move very silently - when he wants to, that is. Usually his modus operandi is to start talking while he is approaching you, let people know he’s coming to put them at ease even before letting his affable demeanor do the rest. It works surprisingly well, even with members of the VFD, who really ought to know better than to fall for that rather simple technique.

But tonight Ernest allows the music and chatter of the hotel ballroom to drown out the sound of his swift footsteps, which is why Frank only notices him when he appears behind Frank’s left shoulder, leaning in and speaking in his ear, just loud enough to be heard over all the noise; “She’s looking quite radiant this evening, isn’t she?”

Frank doesn’t jump, but that’s only due to his years of training, training that drilled into him the importance of not showing the sort of weakness you show when being outwardly startled by something. If they think they can surprise you and you’ll be alarmed by that, it gives your opponent the upper hand.

So Frank remains perfectly still and keeps his expression carefully blank while Ernest moves to stand by his side, where he can observe Frank better, making it easier for him to tailor his words for maximum effect if Frank shows even a modicum of emotion. He decides not to give his brother the pleasure tonight.

Now for an equally pressing issue; what the hell Ernest is talking about. Frank had been idly watching the crowd from his position at the edge of the bar, and while his eyes did have a tendency to land on a particular gentleman, that doesn’t warrant… oh. Ernest thinks he’s been looking at the man’s dance partner.

To be fair, out of the two of them, who wouldn’t be looking a Beatrice?

Frank almost smiles when he realizes the extent of his brother’s miscalculation. But only almost. He needs to decide how to respond, and the obvious choice is to confirm Ernest’s own suspicions to draw him off the scent and keep Frank’s secret carefully protected.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, keeping his tone neutral.

Ernest does what anyone would do and takes that denial as solid confirmation that he is correct. “You can’t take your eyes off her, Frank, and you’re not being subtle.”

That much is becoming obvious, and he’s lucky that Ernest is making false assumptions based on who would be more likely to be the center of anyone’s attention, otherwise Frank would be in trouble.

He still might be, he realizes, when Ernest raises his hand and calls out “Beatrice!” loud enough to be heard from the dancefloor.

Beatrice does look radiant tonight, in a deep red ballgown that sways along with her when she waltzes across the floor, and when she sharply turns her head in their direction, her dark curls bounce, a visually appealing sight. When she locates them, she immediately turns to her dance partner and whispers something in his ear. He kisses the back of her hand and lets her go. As she approaches the two brothers, her smile grows increasingly bright, even when she’s aiming it at Ernest.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she says once she has reached them. “You throw quite the party.”

Frank allows himself a reaction, the hint of a smile, because he actually did a lot of the planning and he is a little bit proud of the results, but mostly it’s to keep up the charade.

As he hoped, Ernest sees the change in his expression and misinterprets it once more, and out of the corner of his eye Frank can see him beaming, practically shaking with excitement at what he thinks is a surefire way to gain a new advantage over his brother.

“My brother might be a bore most of the time, but he knows the theory behind casual human interaction and enjoyment at least,” Ernest says, “And sometimes that’s enough to plan a great party.”

Frank lets his face darken a little at the casual insult just to keep Ernest thinking he’s winning this game.

And he must be quite confident that he is, because he goes straight for the jugular next; “You look stunning tonight, Beatrice.” He turns to his brother. “Don’t you think so, Frank?”

God, he is so predictable. If he didn’t know any better, Frank would think it was all a clever double bluff of some sort, rather than a serious attempt to humiliate him and make him uncomfortable.

At least he knows how Ernest expect him to react – defensively - and he might as well give him the pleasure. “Quite,” he says, tilting his chin up a little to appear haughty.

Beatrice purses her lips to keep from smiling, and then immediately loses the struggle and grins anyway. “Such a charmer,” she teases.

Ernest laughs, delighted. The would-be puppet master, always so proud of his work, to the point where he doesn’t even think to stop and consider the validity of his theories once in a while.

“Would you care to dance, Frank?” Beatrice asks, and for a moment Frank just stares at her. He hasn’t had the time to consider what game Beatrice is currently playing, and it’s disturbing his equilibrium to a worrisome degree.

“Of course he would,” Ernest replies for him, voice laced with amusement, “He loves dancing.”

Frank hates dancing, and everybody knows it, Beatrice included, so it is extremely frustrating when she holds out her hand in invitation. Frank considers scowling and refusing, but then remembers that he’s supposed to be secretly, tragically in love with her, and takes her hand.

He knows how to dance, of course, they all learned the usual ballroom dances during their training. Frank happens to be quite good at it too, he just doesn’t enjoy dancing in public. Not like Beatrice, who is so eager that she’s constantly in danger of taking the lead from him.

As soon as Frank has his hand on her waist, she leans into him and whispers in his ear, “Is he watching?”

Frank smoothly twirls them around to the music, checking. “He is.”

Beatrice snorts, “He’s dumber than he looks,” she says, “We might as well take advantage?”

She’s right, so Frank pulls her closer to his body, much closer than is expected in a classic waltz. “He thinks it’s unrequited,” he tells her.

Beatrice chuckles, finally beginning to let Frank lead for real. “Should I play into that?”

“Would you be rude enough to look uncomfortable to be near me, if you thought I was in love with you and you didn’t return my feelings?” Frank asks.

“Of course not,” Beatrice replies, “I’m not a monster.”

“Then you should probably act like you’re politely playing along.”

“We should be cheek to cheek,” Beatrice announces. “Feel free to subtly smell my hair.”

He does so once they are turned around so Ernest can see the gesture. It smells nice, he distantly notes.

They keep dancing until the song starts to wind down, and which point Beatrice orders him, “dip me,” and Frank does as he’s told, carefully supporting her as she leans back in an elegant arch.

The music ends and scattered applause breaks out while the band takes the time to bow before starting the next song. Frank slowly becomes aware that a lot more eyes are on them than he’d expected, and his gut-reaction is to quickly let go of Beatrice and step back. It’s what he would do if he was secretly in love with her and didn’t want people to know, which is probably why Beatrice, always the actress, allows it.

“Should we get you a drink?” she asks breezily.

“Please.”

Ernest is standing right where they left him, at the bar, and he has apparently ordered drinks for them, because Larry is already putting down glasses when they approach. The waiter gives Frank a meaningful look, then reaches for the bottle of their most expensive scotch and pours him a double. Beatrice gets the same.

He sure that this is Larry’s attempt to help him keep up the act, he’s too observant to fall for it like Ernest is. Frank grabs the glass and knocks back the drink in a couple of mouthfuls, very aware of Ernest’s eyes still on him.

“Mind if I claim this next dance?” he asks Beatrice while smiling slyly at Frank.

Beatrice inclines her head gracefully. “Of course.”

Ernest holds out his arm and Beatrice accepts it, letting him lead her onto the floor without looking back at Frank. An excellent move on her part, Frank thinks.

He sees Bertrand coming, and even if he hadn’t, Bertrand is already talking as soon as he’s in earshot, “Good evening, Frank,” he greets pleasantly. “What was all that about?”

Frank sighs. “Ernest thinks I’m in love with your wife.”

Bertrand laughs, actually laughs. “Oh dear,” he eventually manages. “That’s tragic.”

“Very tragic,” Frank agrees, eyeing Bertrand warily. He isn’t entirely sure whether Bertrand knows yet, and he doesn’t want to show his cards too soon.

“To be fair, you were watching us quite intently,” Bertrand teases. “You can’t blame him for making some assumptions.”

“I suppose not.”

Bertrand smiles gently at him. “She looks beautiful tonight... -”

“She looks beautiful every night,” Frank points out.

Bertrand ignores him. “And I look very handsome in this tux,” he finishes.

At this point Frank desperately wants another drink, but he probably shouldn’t be clouding his judgement further. “That you do,” he admits instead, a giant leap of faith that he normally wouldn’t make, but Bertrand is still smiling and moving a little closer to him, sliding right into his personal space.

“Do I get a dance as well?” he asks, partially joking, partially outright flirtatious.

Frank swallows and tries to keep his expression neutral. “I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

Bertrand has the audacity to look disappointed before he looks understanding. “Keeping up appearances, as always.”

“Some of us has to,” Frank says.

For a moment Bertrand’s reaction borders on pity, but then a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Come with me,” he says, and starts walking away without looking back to check if Frank is following him.

Frank follows.

Bertrand leads them to the edge of the ballroom and ducks under the velvet rope stretched across the stairs leading to the rear mezzanine, which Ernest had decided to close off for the night, probably to avoid too many areas where people could linger, scan the crowd, and have secret conversations. Tonight is supposed to be about having fun after all.

There’s no light up here, so as long as they keep away from the edge, they’re hidden in shadow. That’s definitely the only reason why Frank allows Bertrand to place one hand on his hip, grab his hand with the other, and pull him flush up against him. Frank lets him lead them in a slow dance that doesn’t quite match the tempo of the song the band is playing below, but no one can see them anyway, no one will judge, so Frank follows without protest. Neither does he object when Bertrand gently leans into him until they’re cheek to cheek, or when Bertrand kisses him soon after.

It’s a bit unlike Bertrand to be so forward, Frank think, as he is pressed back against the wall, but he isn’t about to complain, not with Bertrand’s lips dragging down his neck, along his jaw, finally meeting Frank’s in another heated kiss. It’s nice. More than nice.

He sighs in disappointment when Bertrand breaks the kiss, vaguely noticing that this song is ending too. More applause from the crowd, and for a second Frank irrationally worries that someone has seen them.

“Don’t worry. We’re perfectly safe up here.” Bertrand whispers when he notices Frank tensing.

‘Until my nosy brother starts looking for us’, Frank thinks, but he doesn’t say anything, mostly because Bertrand is running his fingers through his hair now, digging his fingers into Frank’s scalp and guiding him into another kiss.

At some point Bertrand briefly lets up, only to murmur, “Hey, Frank?”

“Yes?”

He feels Bertrand smile against this cheek. “Happy birthday.”

#anon #asks #Frank Denouement #Ernest Denouement #Beatrice Baudelaire #Bertrand Baudelaire #my fic

19 notes · View notes

whoreforfanfiction · 5 years

Text

They Confess Their Feelings (Mystic Messenger Preferences)

Yoosung

- you two would have to be friends for a while before he felt ready to confess his feelings

- of course, he’s talked to Zen countless times about you already, but never took his advice on telling you how he felt

- at least once a week you were at his house

- and at least once a month you went out for dinner (which he always insisted on paying for, even though you knew it drilled a hole in his pocket)

- basically, you two spent a majority of your time together

- your favorite was when you’d spend the entire day at his house playing a video game marathon

- you got to spend the most time with him during those

- today though, you two were just sitting on the couch, talking about the new professor that hates him

- “He’ll come around and see how fun you are,” you commented trying to cheer his sad face up.

- An immediate blush rose to his pale cheeks

- “You think I’m fun?” he said sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck

- “Of course, silly. Why else would I hang out with you all the time? You’re my favorite person to be around,” you admitted.

- he knew this was his moment and he tried to remember what Zen had told him to say

- they rehearsed it a million times, but his memory was failing him horribly

- he stumbled around trying to find words to return you with but he eventually just blurted out “I like you!”

- you were shocked into silence for a second, and he took it the wrong way

- “S-shit forget I said that,” he tried to recover but you had already heard those 3 majestic words

- “No no I like you too! You shocked me there for a second,” you giggled and you pulled him into a shy kiss on the cheek

Zen

- really not shy about his feelings at all

- super self-confident, which is one of the things you liked most about him

- you were friends for a few months and after sharing conversations with you, he knew you were the one

- confided in Yoosung about his feelings since those two are like brothers

- Yoosung knew you liked Zen back

- he said it was a “vibe” he had picked up during your encounters

- and because you always asked for more selfies in the messenger

- and today, Zen decided he was going to change your friendship and make it something deeper and more meaningful

- you were scheduled to come over to marathon a TV show you both enjoyed

- Zen made sure the scene was set

- he had popcorn, your favorite drink, cozy blankets, tissues for when you cried about characters dying

- really tried to play out every single situation in his head and plan around it

- when you came over, he made sure you were more than comfortable

- after you two finished your marathon session, you were both somewhat drowsy

- and drowsy conversations lead to deep talk times

- “I like being here with you,” you commented, “I feel safe here.” You cozied up more inside the blanket.

- this boy has never felt more complimented in his life

- “Yeah? Well, I like you!” he said with a slight chuckle that confused you

- “Like? Or like like?” you tried to clarify but ended up sounding like you were gossiping on the elementary playground

- he looked at you, dead in the eyes, “Like like, of course.”

- “Hehe, I like like you too,” you said as he pulled you closer to his warm body

Jaehee

- very analytical and logical

- she had a theory that you liked her, based on your conversations, but was too scared to actually test it out

- she also knew she felt very strongly towards you

- more than a friend

- she found herself checking her phone constantly to see if you texted her back

- often got in the way of her work and Jumin started to take her phone for some periods of time

- was in the chatroom CONSTANTLY just hoping you’d show up

- took her breaks when you did enter the chatroom

- you two called at least twice a week after she got off work so she could rant about how bad her day was

- today, you decided to surprise her with chocolates to ease her stress

- you hid behind her desk and jumped out when she came to sit down which did give her a mini heart attack

- “SURPRISE!” you said as you whipped the chocolates out from behind your back

- her face was firetruck flaming red

- stuttered over her words a lot

- “I like you a lot Jaehee, homo intended, and I wanted to make sure you had a good day today,” you confessed hoping she reciprocated you feelings

- she pressed down her skirt and composed herself

- “I like you too, and I promise next time I will return your kindness,” she stated lovingly while grabbing the chocolates out of your hand

Jumin

- didn’t know what his feelings were for the longest time

- finally, he decided to talk to Zen about them since he is the king of feelings

- “You stupid heir!! You like her! Tsk it’s so sad you can’t even tell that” Zen scolded

- like? that was a new emotion and this one he enjoyed very much

- whenever he was around you, he got these feelings in his stomach and felt a burst of energy

- he was never sad or upset when he was in close proximity with you

- very inexperienced with relationships and didn’t know the best way to show you how much he cared about you

- Zen also warned him not to throw his money at you because you might get scared off

- he was going to think of an old-fashioned nice way to show you he liked you, without using his money

- watched lots of love movies to study up because he wanted this to be meaningful

- the common theme he deduced from all the movies was flowers and he happened to know a phenomenal florist

- was going to call, but remembered that he shouldn’t use his money

- walked around nature for a good 4 hours picking out all the flowers he thought you’d like

- tied them together with string to make a bouquet

- but how to deliver them? shipping them to your house would be easiest since you lived on the other side of the city, but he knew that wouldn’t be personal

- he also didn’t wanna arrive at your door in his limo or one of his expensive cars

- he didn’t want it to come off as him flexing his wealth in an attempt to woo you

- so what did he do? he walked

- this rich boy walked 7 miles to your house

- which was fine until it started to rain

- you heard a gentle knocking at your door and rushed to let him in

- “You’re soaking,” you commented in concern as you ran to the bathroom to get him a towel

- “I like you,” he got to the point and handed you the dripping bouquet

- you innerly squealed with happiness

- “I like you too!!” you said as you jumped and hugged him around the neck

- you tried to pull away after a second, but he held you there for a moment longer

- “I’m glad you like it,” he said exhausted then sat down on the couch

- drifted off to sleep not much longer aww poor baby

Saeyoung

- you two talked ALL THE MOTHER FUCKING TIME - hung out rarely because his house was a mess and didn’t want to expose you to Mary Vanderwood

- but there wasn’t a moment where you weren’t texting or facetiming

- which pissed Vanderwood off

- you face timed which he worked

- you two didn’t talk much during those times, but you appreciated having the company

- at night before bed though was when you two really talked

- he asked about your day and let you talk first

- you could tell he actively listened and truly cared about even the most mundane things that happened that day

- “When you went, did you get the barista you liked?” he asked knowing he hacked into their system to change that person’s hours to when he knew you’d be visiting

- “Yea! I’ve been having him more often now! I’m very happy and my tastebuds are happy too!” You were completely oblivious to his meddling and he thought it was adorable

- one night on facetime, you picked up an hour later then usual and he was upset

- “What’s wrong?” you asked after noticing he had been short with you

- “God dammit M/C I like you and this is the best part of my night! I hate when it’s delayed for one second, let alone an hour,” he complained not knowing he had just admitted his feelings towards you

- “Y-you like me?” you questioned back. you knew you heard him correctly, you just wanted to hear it again.

- “Damn it,” he swore just now noticing his slip up

- you were giggling over the phone

- “What?” he crankily asked, hating the situation thinking you didn’t return the feelings

- “I like you too my defender of justice,” you said while flashing him the biggest smile

- his heart got all warm and happy and all he did was sit and smile in silence for a while

IF YOU WANT ME TO ADD V AND SAERAN MESSAGE ME AND I’LL DO IT TOMORROW BUT IM TIRED RN

1K notes · View notes

silke-doomflare · 4 years

Text

Meet the character: Silke

BASICS

► Name ➔ “Silke Doomflare. And yes, it’s got something to do with my profession!”

► Are you single ➔ Silke’s eyes suddenly get a bit wider. She blinks, and then purses her lips, becoming oddly interested in the nearby wall. “It’s complicated.”

► Are you happy ➔ “Mm, yeah, I guess I could say so”, she states after thinking for a moment. “I’m studying things I love, my family is safe and alive, I have a handful of people I could consider my friends.. Can’t really complain, although a little bit more gil wouldn’t hurt...”

► Are you angry? ➔ “Well, usually not. Though, at the moment I’m a bit pissed off at a certain colleague of mine who loudly and unnecessarily harshly judged my thesis of pyromancy in front of our professor and classmates. Like, hellooo? You can give critique and still be polite about it, geez…”

► Are your parents still married ➔ “They are”, Silke nods proudly. "I’ve seen so many broken families lately. I feel very privileged… and lucky.”

EIGHT FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “I’ve heard it was the place named Skatay Range. But I can’t remember a thing from it. I was so young when I was taken by slavers. So I like to think Kugane as my real birth place, since I grew up there.“

► Hair Color ➔ “Black I guess? At least it was the last time I checked! In bright light it looks like dark grey, though.”

► Eye Color ➔ Silke leans closer, so that the deep turquoise can hardly be missed. "You have troubles with your eyes or what? I happen to partly know a shady medic from a certain dark alley nearby. Want to know the address?”

► Birthday ➔ “Ninth sun of the first astral moon, I’ve heard.”

► Mood ➔ “Right now? I guess I’m feeling somewhat eager. There’s this new portal we’re going to test out tomorrow, and I was permitted to take part in it. Can you believe that? Usually they’re just like ‘no, Silke, don’t touch it, don’t touch anything’, but this time I’m allowed in. They must’ve finally noticed the genius I am.“

► Gender ➔ “God!” Silke yells and gets on her feet, pointing towards the roof. A long silence follows. “Seriously! Have you ever seen me on a battlefield? Have you seen the havoc I’ve --- no? Oh...”

► Summer or winter ➔ “Agh, such a difficult question. I like both. I like to swim and lay on a soft grass under a tree. But then again I also like to drink hot cocoa when it’s cold, wrap myself up into a blanket and watch the flames of our fireplace or snow falling outside.“

► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Afternoon of course? I’m not even awake before noon… no, wait. I like sleeping as well. Both?”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ “Of course I am. If we don’t count the feeling of aether flowing through me while I cast spells and blow things to smithereens, I love most the smell of old tomes, parchment, ink and all sorts of sweets, especially ice-cream. I also love chocobos. If it wasn’t possible to be a mage I’d definitely become a chocobo breeder. Perhaps I’ll become one when my career is over and spells no longer stay in my head. I’ll retire and start breeding chocobos. Yes, a perfect plan!“

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “I definitely do! I fell in love with my dog the moment I saw him. Have you ever visited Kugane? Well anyway, they have these small, orange, pointy eared and curly tailed dogs there in almost every house. It’s like their national dog or something, they’re so popular.”

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “I hate to admit this, but it was him… I thought we were doing fine, but one day he started to complain I didn’t give him enough attention, and that I was studying too much. I mean… how can one even study too much? I don’t get it.“

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “I guess I have. Not on purpose, though! Honestly, some people are so sensitive it’s harder not to break their hearts, geez… What an annoying subject to talk about, anyway.” Silke ruffles her head uneasily.

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “Of course not. I wouldn’t be able to ever become an archmage if I wasn’t dedicated to my studies.“

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ Silke’s usually cheerful expression grows darker suddenly. "My sister. We don’t see very often, but when we do, I try to show my care as much as I can. She’s hanging out with shady folk sometimes, and I can’t help but worry at times will she come home or not.”

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “I surely hope not! Would be creepy to have someone admiring you from afar, without letting you know. Isn’t that like stalking? It’s only good manners to make yourself known so we can find out do we get along or not.“

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “No, I don’t think so. Or perhaps I once almost did… there was this huge tome - as big as those holy scriptures they have in the cathedral - in a certain old bookstore. The merchant was old as sky and I was afraid they’d close the place soon. And the tome was expensive. I was a lot younger back then and didn’t have much money, and my sister was like ‘no Silke, you totally won’t buy a book written in some dead language no one can read to take more room in your previously cramped room and collect dust.’ At first I was about to leave it at that, but I ended up snitching money from her cache.” Silke grins impishly. “No regrets!”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “I have to choose again? You’re, like, asking me do I like to enjoy nice things existing or actually take them to be mine.”

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “What if I started to ask you annoying questions like strawberries or chocolate? Can’t choose, huh? Huh?”

► Cats or Dogs ➔ Silke falls silent for a moment. “…just when I was yapping at you for silly questions. Dogs all the way! I like cats too, and maybe I would be more of a cat person if my first pet had been a cat. But it was a dog, and there’s no going back!“

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “A few best friends, absolutely. I have both, but I’ve noticed I enjoy the company of my closest friends a lot more. You can do all sorts of crazy stuff with them you can’t with anyone else.”

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Definitely a wild night out! I have romantic nights by myself all the time with wine and chocolate and our fireplace, and I rarely get to go out.“

► Day or night ➔ “I like both, actually. At days I’m studying, and at nights I’m doing my homework.” Silke shrugs and grins.

FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ Silke becomes more serious once more. “Like I told you, I was taken from my original home by slavers. Life wasn’t very nice back then. I tried to run, many times. But I was very small and weak, and they were big, strong and fast.”

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “This actually happened during one of my escape attempts. I was lucky I didn’t die. I still have a scar left.“ Silke lifts her bangs and shows a scar near her temple.

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Freedom. Yes… I think losing our loved ones is the first thing we usually think of when someone asks for the thing we fear the most. But I think losing your freedom would be even worse. If you’re free, you can always start anew, but if you’re being held captive, you can’t do anything. Nothing at all.”

► Wanted to disappear ➔ Silke gives a long look at you and raises an eyebrow again. “Considering the things I just told you, there just may have been such situations...”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “Mmh, both are important, but I think I like eyes more. I’m not a spiritual person, but I still think you can kind of see their soul there. Their essence. If they’re good or evil. The creepiest thing I’ve seen is probably living people with empty eyes, especially those without any kindness in them…”

► Shorter or Taller ➔ “Shorter, definitely. I’m quite short myself despite my heels and I don’t like it when someone looks down on me. Well, most of people kind of have to, they can’t help it, but you know?“

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “Pff, do you even need to ask? Intelligence, of course. There are very few things that… truly infuriate me… But the one thing I absolutely can’t stand in others is chosen stupidity. Yes, chosen! Can you believe, that there truly exists people who don’t want to learn new things, be it about themselves or other people or the world that surrounds them?” Silke starts to imitate an elderly person, talking in a low, hoarse tone: “Silly girl. If we would discover new things or try them out, we would be in a situation we’ve never been in before.” She bursts into a mocking laughter. “Yes, someone really said that to me…”

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Relationship, hands down. I’ve had my share of hook-ups.” Silke apparently can’t stop her eyes rolling towards the roof as a protest.

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “Yeah, we get along very well. I have some arguments every now and then with my two siblings, but nothing too serious.”

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “Not anymore. It used to be such a mess, though.” Silke lets out an uneasy laugh. “After me and Asagi were adopted, we got our life eventually back together. Despite a few ups and downs it’s been quite stable after that. A place to belong to and meaningful chores do wonders.”

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “No, definitely not. My parents have always been reasonable. Even during our wildest teenage years I can’t remember there would’ve been anything too major…“

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ Silke has some difficulties holding back a sudden laughter. "I got kicked out of class, yeah! Though I still think it was unfair towards me. It wasn’t my fault. It was an alchemy class and I guess I had made some miscalculation with my mixture… I tried to tell my professor I’m not quite sure about it, but he just had to go and push his big head too close to the cauldron.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “No, I don’t hate my friends. If I did, I wouldn’t be friends with them, would I? Some of them have some annoying traits, but... hate? Nah.“

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ "Sadly no… I’ve had some… disappointments. You know, there’s quite a lot of people who seem like they’re good friends, but once you have a bad day, or few bad days, they suddenly disappear and want to hear nothing about it. So weird. I certainly wouldn’t abandon my friends like that.”

► Who is your best friend ➔ “Absolutely Iris. She’s a bit odd sometimes, in a good way though, and her vocabulary is quite vulgar and it upsets some people, but I think it’s hilarious. I’ve never met anyone so quick-witted before. There’s not a single boring moment while she’s around. Oh, and nowadays there’s also this certain miqo’te called Shaura. We haven’t known each other for very long, but just like with Iris, we just clicked right away.“

► Who knows everything about you ➔ “I think my sister might… I’ve tried to keep some secrets from her, like me loaning her gil without asking sometimes, but I think she knows. I have no idea how the heck! I mean, I’m smart, but she’s even smarter… If it was possible, I would like to change brains with her for a day or two. I want to know how she does it.”

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #meet the character #viera #silke doomflare #veena #character info

15 notes · View notes

roominthecastle · 4 years

Text

Thank you for taking the time and typing up your reply, @alma37.

Now I get where you were coming from. You are def much more attached to Zoe than I am. You don’t need to produce any other arguments and “I like it better this way” is a perfectly acceptable answer. And while I don’t believe Agatha’s return is completely at Zoe’s expense -- given that she would have died anyway --, I understand the pain of watching a favorite character used as fodder for another one’s story.

You’ve also raised some interesting points and the exact questions I’ve been pondering myself, so I’m gonna take this opportunity to just unload my thoughts here. Please don’t take this as me trying to talk you out of your opinion or preferences bc I don’t wanna do that.

This is mostly just me trying to explain my preferences to myself.

"after Blood Vessel, as much as Dracula liked her, I could not see him and Agatha together”

oh yes, theirs is an infinitely fucked up dynamic, there is no debating that. they are enemies, so murder attempts come w/ the territory, which is not every shipper’s cup of tea and that’s understandable. However, every relationship involving Dracula is fucked up this way by default since he automatically brings his "inclinations” into it. I guess one could write him already “tamed” and w/ less issues but then it wouldn’t really be him. This is a major thing I love about this show, how they are not afraid to portray him as a full-fledged monster who just keeps coming at you w/ a razor smile -- partly bc he literally can’t help himself. He is a predator who -- to once again quote the commentary -- operates w/ a “torturous sense of fairness” that, to me, echoes the amorality you can observe in the animal kingdom: there is no reasoning with a hungry lion once it’s spotted a zebra; it’s in its nature to hunt prey in order to survive. Empathy or morals don’t factor into this basic conduct.

Dracula has this hard-wired primal drive, too. And Agatha points it out early on when she calls him a beast who doesn’t understand the rules governing its behavior but simply follows them. Of course, he has a point, as well, when he claims he’s more than that. He is. Otherwise, he would just be absolved of all the killing he does, which would feel cheap and unjust and would rob his character of all the fun complexities. Underneath the veneer of a sophisticated nobleman there is a beast, and underneath that grotesque (protective) display are human remains and loads of festering mental health issues. But the only person who bothers to look at these layers and how they inform each other is Agatha. Her equally unyielding drive for knowledge & understanding is the power that allows her to counter him, exert control over him, and tap into his deformed human core in a way nobody else has ever been able to. She does this to save others from him but also to satisfy her own dark fascination, and in the process I think she also comes to feel for him. They reach a level of intimacy that makes this outcome inevitable, imo.

This, in my eyes, makes her pretty much the only person who has any chance at having a more meaningful relationship w/ him that lasts longer than his feeding time. This is also what comes across in Dracula’s indirect advice to Zoe: if she hopes to match him, she will need to conjure Agatha from his blood. He essentially gives her the key to his own destruction (which is also his way out), then retreats and waits. This has the same self-regulating vibe as him convincing himself that his immense supernatural power has ordinary loopholes like needing an invitation to enter or the sunlight. Shame is a control tactic and self-shaming is a form of self-control, albeit a very problematic one. He puts in checks and balances which you wouldn’t do unless deep down you knew you needed to be “checked and balanced” by someone who’s willing to take on the thankless task. He cannot do it, he can’t face himself (he literally smashes mirrors and turns from every reflective surface), but Agatha is willing and able to drag him back into the light.

This is why the parallel to Petruvio & his wife works so well. The design to Dracula’s mind (and therefore the way out) is scattered across time and many myths. Agatha collects these and uses them to lead him out of the prison he’s made for himself, which has its visual parallel in the maps being hidden inside the wife’s portrait.

In other words, I cannot see Dracula with anyone else long term since he sees everyone else as a toy and/or a prey -- a means to an end. That’s how he sees Agatha at first, too, and it takes some time for him to realize that he made a mistake. This delayed realization can also be attributed to his bestial drive that has subdued the rest of him for so long, he really cannot cut through its wiring on his own; he came to exist to continue his existence, and the pointless circularity of this is the biggest trap: despite leaving loopholes, he’s still a prisoner of his own hunger & shame. Feeling for others would make it infinitely more painful but shedding empathy only provides a temporary release. Still, life lived solely for oneself is never fulfilling no matter how long it stretches forward, and the insatiable hunger Dracula feels gels nicely w/ this.

It’s Agatha who breaks the circle when she makes him confront the human origin of all this mess. Once she gets through to him, once she makes him remember, we can witness what Mofftiss call the “beginning of morality” and empathy seeping back into Dracula, and his existence takes on meaning when he chooses to sacrifice his immortality to take away her mortal pain. To me this feels like a direct call-back to the scene where he asks her if she is willing to die to save that terrified child and she tells him she would die to save any terrified child bc “there is a nobler purpose to my life than simply prolonging it.” But Dracula only comes to feel this nobler purpose where Agatha is concerned (baby steps :). He still doesn’t care about anyone else but that could be a juicy problem to tackle next season if there is one. *crosses fingers*

“they needed Agatha to stay human until the end of TDC - but, in that case, why bring her so late in the episode?”

I’m afraid only the writers can answer this one. But my best guess is that there are other characters from the novel -- Lucy especially -- they wanted to play with a little. Since I like them, too, and like how they planted them into this modern setting, I have no problem w/ Agatha taking her sweet time resurrecting. This was also a nice way to show just how bored & lost Dracula is in her absence (side note: him using Tinder as a takeout menu + complaining that he has to exercise now that everything is delivered and doesn’t have to be hunted down will never not be hilarious AF). I have seen a few fans complain about the pacing of ep 3 but I think it provides a nice, strategic contrast to the more dynamic previous episode, again highlighting why Agatha’s presence in his life was so invigorating and how her absence is the opposite -- he is a 500-year old warlord yet his life is now somehow... banal bc he has no worthy match.

“If he really want Agatha so badly, and since Zoe doesn’t come after him (she has other things in mind, understandably), why does he not? To see if his little ply worked? If his dear Agatha is back? The only time Renfield talks about Zoe, Dracula doesn’t seem remotely interested.”

I think he is interested (his suggestion to use bats as surveillance cracks me up every time) and he is waiting. He keeps tabs on the Harker Foundation from a safe distance and, to me, looks rather crestfallen when Renfield tells him that his lady friend (aka Van Helsing aka his “Agatha incubator”) left and seems to have lost all interest in Dracula. I think he expected a different outcome. It’s speculation but I think he expected Zoe to drink his blood (bc it doesn’t come as a surprise later when he notices the changes in her) and expected it to have an effect sooner and time is running out since Zoe is dying. Zoe was supposed to act similarly to the bed of his own native soil (she is a “bed” of Agatha’s DNA) and regenerate Agatha even if it’s temporary. So he is both staying away (survival is still key) and wants her to come after him again -- a delicious contradiction he can’t untangle by himself.

Lack of (threatening) interest, however, is a clear sign that Agatha is not back. If she were, he def wouldn’t have to go and check. She would waste no time seeking him (and indeed she wants to go after him the second she manifests and, as Zoe remarks, Dracula isn’t surprised to find her at his doorstep -- another parallel to ep 1 where it’s Agatha who anticipated him coming for his bride). I think he was waiting for her return just like Agatha was waiting for his in ep 2 (another parallel). It’s Renfield‘s remarks that drive this point home for me as he has a front row seat to what Dracula is like during these 3 months: “I wonder what it is you actually want,” and “What are you doing with your time?” I think it’s no coincidence that both of these questions get answered only w/ Agatha’s return. Dracula basically idles in the meantime. And the fact that it takes Agatha 3 months to properly manifest, when Zoe is the weakest, is def a testament to Zoe’s strength of character. She is a Van Helsing, after all. And they vanquish the monster in the smartest, most elegant way: by making him feel something other than blinding hunger for the first time in centuries.

#alma37 #bbc dracula #dracula x agatha #musings

17 notes · View notes

trad-masculine · 3 years

Text

A Specific Critique of Our Politics

There is growing sentiment that our current political system is broken & needs fundamental change. This to me is both obvious & necessary, but we need to figure out how to navigate the problem of changing fundamental power structures. Here's what I think is the single most elegant & specific critique of both sides, hopefully in a way that provides the eventual clarity necessary to solve our shared problems together.

Both the right & left, individuals, ideologies & political parties are a mess & frankly embarrassing to participate in, hence the record turnout of this year, is still lackluster in any direct analysis. There is much broken to fix, but starting point is important.

The right needs to recognize a deep failure within its moral & psychological framing of people & events. There is a type of 'moral' double bind social dynamic I despise. 'Holier than thou' is one way to describe this double bind game. Another way to phrase it, popularized by Bret Weinstein, is the Personal Responsibility Votex. It works by framing another person such that all their possible decisions appear to be either direct moral failing, or make them powerless. In a large social dynamic this allows the deceptive public figures who use it to blind their audience to the social & moral critiques applied to them by those attempting to constrain their ruthlessness.

This is a common dynamic used by the establishment on the right against their audience, & I believe one of the social forces driving the right into wildly overblown conspiracy theorizing instead of toward the most effective & elegant criticisms of our current social system provided by conscientious objectors on the left, & 'center'. I want to call it something with an egoic sense, beyond the specific tactics used. "I don't need to pay attention to anyone's worldview & ideas except my own because anyone different from me is either weak or a hypocritical liar."

A good concrete & meaningful example is a situation which my own family is in, & a decision tree I have faced myself. I am a staunch environmentalist, although my perspective is far more nuanced than the common tropes of the popular narratives. #solarpunk & others do a good job of popularizing more generally correct ideals closer to my own.

To the point, my family owns oil properties. Oil is clearly a dysfunctional primary energy source going forward, far beyond carbon dioxide, but deeper into how the industry impacts the world in which we all live. Global politics (war & conflict over who profits from oil), finance (who oils & controls society through oil), transportation (asphalt is oil), plastics, farming (fertilizer is oil), pharmaceuticals (organic chemistry can be oil) are all fields of society deeply disturbed by the power structures of oil.

I don't want to participate in that, but I cannot sell my property. If someone else owns it they will build far more pumps & extract far more oil than I do or ever have, or plan to do. I also would be foolish & insane & counter productive to my goals in their pure form if I took a purist stance & went bankrupt via halting all pumping on my property. I would still loose everything to the ruthless oil magnates, but I would also be incapable of doing any good in the world.

Either I am a hypocrite or too weak to do anything useful or meaningful in the world. The situation is systemically broken. Only legislation that stops oil extraction allows the rational approach of my situation to result in an outcome I can accept as good. Until then my moral duty is best served by pumping oil to invest in environmental causes. Which is an absurd situation to find oneself in, but from a sane perspective there is actually no more moral or correct option available to me. I've considered all possibilities at length.

This is a double bind, that traps me in technical hypocricy as the most morally & ethically optimized stable position I can hold. All other positions make those who would harm the earth more powerful at my expense. This is not my failing, but a tragedy of the wise. Understand this, find & respect people who hold positions similar to mine out of moral duty & necessity, despite the tragic self-contribution to the very process which I find necessary & right to end.

The left equally has a grave error.

I find it a laughable failure of the intellectual & media elite of the left do not possess & destribute as common knowledge the game theoretic conclusions ones reaches upon an analysis of our voting system. Plurality Voting or (first past the post) #EndPluralityVoting, is an awful system of selection for solving any democratic problem. You will know it as "Choose One Candidate" on a ballot sheet. This voting method itself, as opposed to any other reason, is the specific direct reason we have a two party system. This is a certain & abject truth, that with depth, is inarguable.

The direct, most elegant & most superb alternative system is called #ApprovalVoting, & it is what you would know on a ballot as "Choose One, Or More, Candidate[s]."

Many social media polling systems have this as an option, always use it, it should be the universal voting process default.

Approval Voting has one challenge that prevents it from being common place across democratic systems, it requires a well crafted Parliamentary system to be used at the political stage above it. The two systems integrate together exceptionally well, for deep, nuanced & powerful technical reasons. Of primary import is that Approval Voting most accurately represents the true values & views of the demos, the people, at the cost of some stability & of having an electoral majority. The Parliamentary system handles greater volitity & also non-majority leadership situations better than other political systems.

This is all clear & obvious to me after analyzing political processes, but because this knowledge does not serve the self interest of collecting power, it is not the well destributed understanding of political systems that it should be.

(I will quickly note the popular alternative voting system of #RCV or ranked choice voting. This is a cludge, I support it as better than plurality voting, because anything is, but the only reason it is the voting method of choice is because it's compatible with our current very broken political system, not because it has any superior qualities to approval Voting. It's complicated and less useful. Approval Voting is superior at every angle of analysis except how easy it is to achieve in our current dysfunctional moment.)

The sources of dysfunction that are most are fault for neuroticizing us on whichever side, I lay foremost at the feet of these two problems in our approaches to addressing problems in the political/intellectual sphere.

It is time to start applying ourselves with astute, well rounded & careful analysis of broad human systems using the tools of Game Theory & of evolutionary process analysis, which some might know as market forces.

I could go fard deeper into more problems, ad infinitum in fact, I think & write at length on these topics elsewhere, but posting some thoughts on the dysfunctional mess that is our ongoing political moment is a necessary duty I feel is apt & appropriate here.

Thanks for reading.

Take care & keep your soul.

🌳♂️ Masculine Way of Life!🧔🥊

#Election #2020 #Voting #Politics #Economics #Solar punk #environment #Environmentalist #solarpunk #Economy #Eco #cottagecore

2 notes · View notes

obscure-sentimentalist · 4 years

Note

for ya boi tate 2, 3, 10, 18, 30, 38, 44, 57, 64, 70, 80, 92, 100

For the original character asks

Oh, Tate, my sweet boy who wasn’t even supposed to be an original character, but evolved on his own and silently demanded that I tell his real story. He was entirely unanticipated, and now I can’t shut up about him.

Character context: Tate Merlyn, hailing from the being-reworked-and-written Distortion ‘verse. Tommy’s twin brother in a world where Malcolm decided to bring his young sons to the League of Assassins and train them for his own purposes. It takes many years for the brothers to get out, but they eventually settle back into Starling City, falling in with a certain vigilante operation and forming a tight-knit friendship (and later become roommates) with Felicity.

2. Do they like animals? Well, Tate doesn’t not like animals. However, the circumstances of his life didn’t give him a chance to have a pet, nor put him in contact with domestic animals often, and he never really let himself feel anything about that lack. At first impression, he’s ambivalent about animals.

But find him in a brighter future and give him a kitten to hold or a dog to run into on the street, and he’ll melt the second he makes eye-contact with them. Lots of soft, dopey smiles all around.

3. How do they dress? Ah, yes, a topic that honestly shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

Given that this is a universe where Malcolm is an even shittier father than in canon and has two sons who he’s shaped into his personal weapons from a young age, Tate doesn’t have a fashion sense for much of his life. When he isn’t in League uniform, his clothes are all black and gray, meant for utility and nothing more. The most he’ll allow himself is whatever excess warmth he can get from an old sweatshirt or hoodie, if one is on hand.

Even once he’s free enough to choose for himself, for a long time, Tate just… sticks with his wardrobe and its utter lack of character. Practical is fine, and it saves him time if he just grabs whatever’s in his drawer without looking--it’s about all the same, anyway. Why add another step?

It takes active intervention from Tommy and Felicity (and an incident involving a laundry mix-up) for Tate to start introducing more variety to his closet. He still opts for deeper, darker colors (more autumnal) for everyday wear, but at least it’s color. He’s also into flannels, though he has to be careful with any facial hair he might have, because he’ll make himself ripe for lumberjack-related playful mockery.

There are also plenty of warm sweaters and sweatshirts, because Tate loves being cozy, though the colors of those tend to lean on the lighter, softer end of the spectrum. He loves them, and over time begins to wear them more often than just around the house.

10. Do they have any nicknames? “Tater Tot.” There was no escaping that one, especially with a brother like Tommy. It’s often met with a fond “asshole” in reply, because these boys are such children.

He’s been called a few other silly things by those around him, though not quite to the level of a full-on nickname. Still, they’re often said quite lovingly, which fills Tate with a sort of warmth.

(He can’t say the same about the other names he’s gone by, so… he’ll take this.)

18. What flaws do they have? Tate’s biggest flaw is that he’s self-sacrificial as hell. It’s a character trait that sets up his whole role in the story, one that’s evolved painfully over time and the consequences of which are hooked deep in the narrative. Tate is just a dear, tragic boy whose attempts to protect and save his brother at the expense of himself go catastrophically wrong sometimes, and it takes him a very long time to unlearn that behavior.

Tate has plenty of other heavy-stuff flaws, but in more lighthearted terms… he can’t cook an edible meal, no matter how hard he tries. He can bake a little, if it’s just cookies or box-mix cake, and he’s a tea-making master, but any actual entree stands a fair chance of being toxic for human consumption. His archery skills are also abysmal--despite it being his father’s forte, and later surrounding himself with so many bow-wielding vigilantes--to the point where a plate of pancakes is more likely to be lethal than arrows fired by Tate. The people in his life lovingly refuse to let him live these foibles down.

30. What music do they enjoy? For the most part, Tate likes whatever songs make him happy, or simply jive with him. He’ll dig into some artists if more than a few of their tracks already appeal to him, but by and large he’ll rely on stumbling across individual songs that have a nice sound, no matter the genre.

He does tend to favor pieces that are more instrumental or have subtler, simpler vocals, though. It’s partially because that’s best suited to his quiet demeanor, and partially because lyrics are a bit of a tough spot for him, especially with more emotional, introspective songs. He can certainly appreciate well-crafted songwriting, but every once in a while a line will strike him in a particular, relatable way, and it makes him uncomfortable. Tate’s also a bit of an old man with a lot of top hits, grumbling about how he just wants some fun tunes, but here’s everyone talking about their bodies and other people’s and what they’re going to do with them, can he please just get songs about platonic affection every once in a while.

38. Are they the hero, or anti-hero? Definitely a hero, even though he won’t think of himself in those terms for a very long time, and his introduction in the present of the narrative--catching him at his lowest, darkest, most threatening point--sure doesn’t make it seem that way. His journey from that stage to the soft, heroic boy he becomes is messy and complex, but so meaningful.

44. How do they speak? Examples - Are they soft spoken, hot heated, vulgar Truly, my favorite part of this precious boy, the most defining Tate trait. He just… doesn’t speak much.

It’s not that he’s not good with words, or doesn’t pay much attention--Tate is pretty damn eloquent when he wants to be, and is observant to a fault. He’s merely incredibly selective with when and how he uses his words, which is a very distinctive contrast from Tommy’s frequent need to say something. Tate is fully capable of getting his point across with his body language and expression alone, or lets his brother do the talking for both of them.

To some extent, this is his nature, to be quiet and lean more into the nonverbal, but it was certainly exacerbated by the conditions he grew up under. In dealing with Malcolm and any sort of League business, Tate’s instinctive defense was to keep silent and speak only when expected--typically in response to or in clarification of orders. Quiet became less of something calming and wanted; and more of a necessity, a protection, a falling-in-line.

Tate may speak more often--not by much, but somewhat--in better times, but that’s because he feels comfortable and free enough to do so, and he’s leagues from being as talkative as Tommy. Still, even his silence is different, more expressive of his current mood instead of just serving as white noise, a smothering and muting of his feelings.

57. What do they do when they are happy? Tate is just a very tactile, huggy guy when he allows himself to be, and that often becomes particularly clear when he’s in a good mood. The happier he is, the more octopus-like he gets with his clinginess, but it’s sweet.

Either that, or he just dives head-first into his love of tea--making it, organizing his collection of it, buying more of it...

64. Do they like to dance? If he’s asked, Tate won’t answer that question--he’ll just silently raise his eyebrows and stare pointedly back at whoever brought it up. (If it’s Oliver or Roy, there’s another layer to the look, a clear returning of the question to them in challenge.)

The truth of it is yes, he does like to dance if the music and time are right, but he looks like a suburban dad at a barbecue when he does and he’s well aware of that fact. Better to act like he’s a townsperson from Footloose than hint that he even attempts to have a sense of rhythm.

70. Do they like themselves? Oof.

Tate… he’s done things. Granted, most of them were because he never actually had a choice unless he was willing to risk the consequences (if he was the assured sole recipient of them, he’d be more likely to; unfortunately, this was rarely ever the case, so Tate would fall in line for Tommy’s sake), but Tate is still accountable for how they went down. For as much as he can attribute his actions to trying to keep himself and his brother alive and free from as much harm as is avoidable, there’s still literal blood on his hands.

The thing that burns Tate the most, though, is the one decision he made of his own volition with the direct intention of hurting Tommy--again, for his safety, but that doesn’t make it any better. While the twins reconcile and rebuild their brotherhood even stronger than before, it’s still a blackened spot in their history even with the truth of it unraveled.

The question of whether or not Tate likes himself will be met with a vehement no for longer than anyone around him might expect, even as he gets more comfortable in his new life and knits himself into a group of people he can trust and who care. It’s recovery from the harm of the past, but Tate won’t feel comfortable in saying he likes himself until he figures out who that even is.

It’ll take time, but one day he’ll have a positive response.

80. How would they fare in a zombie apocalypse? Oh, Tate has the necessary skills down pretty darn well, knife expert ex-assassin and survivalist that he is. His biggest problem in that situation would just be the bitter frustration that he spent nearly 20 years of his life just trying to make it through a terrible situation, and he gets out only to be dumped into this? It’s another long fight for his life, which is disheartening for a guy who’s finally let himself admit that he just wants a chance to actually live. But he’ll handle it with grim determination, and hopefully with his brother at his side.

92. If they were given minutes to live, what would they do? Who would they want to see and say? Tate wouldn’t say much of anything here--he rarely ever needs words to express himself to the fullest.

Depending on the timeline--even solely focused on his better days--the number of people he’d want to see varies (thankfully, it grows as the years pass). But if he’s on a tight time limit and can only choose a few, then it’s without a doubt Tommy and Felicity. The three of them are the core found family (well, the twins are obviously twins, but still), the foundation of Tate’s life free of his father’s plans. And all Tate would want from his last minutes is to have the two of them present, to hold and be held in a tight group hug.

Tate is truly a simple man--just give him his people and a hug, and he can make peace with the situation.

100. Are they a day, or night person? Tough to say with Tate. For most of his life, he’d never really had that luxury--he’d be up at the asscrack of dawn or wide awake under the night sky depending on what was required of him. He’s adaptable by necessity.

But if we look to his better future… he’s still kind of middle-ground. He’ll generally be up at a reasonable definition of early in the morning, but also likes to take naps around the house when it’s particularly sunny and he’s not busy. Likewise, Tate will be fully alert at night for the amount of time he needs to be (whether it’s for crime-fighting-related activities, or just movie night), but will pass out the second he drops onto his bed, if he feels safe and comfortable enough with his surroundings to do so.

#obscure-sentimentalist writes sometimes #and cries about Distortion 'verse #and yells about her sweet boy Tate #truly I have not had my heart stolen by an original character like this ever before

2 notes · View notes