#i fell in love with it the first time i read macbeth

[tathrin]

Anyone else have a favorite obscure or ridiculous word that they love so much they have to put it in everything they write as soon as they have even the faintest excuse to do so?

Mine is incarnadine.

[martinsharmony]

In defense of RP Shipping and RP Fiction

I don’t normally come out and give my opinion on things like this so plainly about such controversial things. I tend to shy away from confrontational writing such as this. However this idea has been brewing in my mind for some time now so I had to write it.

I am a Real Person Shipper.

I’m seeing people talk a lot more about RP shipping (and the hate towards it) since David Tennant and Michael Sheen appeared smiling at each other in a photo after David's appearance in Macbeth.

RP Shipping is not a choice.

When I caught the shipping bug, it hit me like lightning. It occurred to me one night as I lay in bed next to the husband with which I had a deteriorating relationship: “are there stories about Dave Gahan and Martin Gore…being together??”

Dave Gahan/Martin Gore (Gahore) are in Depeche Mode. They were my 1st ship as an adult. You can read about it here. Obviously Depeche Mode is a band so there is no fictional narrative anywhere to follow. I quickly learned that RP shipping was taboo. However in my shipping community we all shipped the band so I was more or less insulated from it.

I dove in headfirst. I literally couldn’t not do it. It was something my brain needed. Sure I could have forced myself to not go look for it because of some kind of moral (?) imperative which I wasn’t even aware of at the time, but even if I stopped myself, that would not stop my brain from wanting it. Making up stories and scenarios. Finding evidence in videos, songs, interviews, etc. I shipped these two people because of what I had observed between them.

I saw love. So did my shipping friends. We all saw it. I needed to experience it. My life lacked it.

My next RP ship was Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch (FreeBatch). First I fell in love with Sherlock and John, obviously. But then as I started to follow the fandom, I started noticing the same things that others noticed. My brain just went there. I literally had no choice. It’s not as if I could tell my brain “don’t do that”. It would not listen. You can’t tell a starving person to not think about food. In fact telling them that probably makes it worse.

In my personal life, I had been through a breakup with the man I dated after I got divorced, and then I began dating a woman for the 1st time. I really started to relate what I was seeing on the screen and reading on Tumblr and in fic to my own life. I was starting to process my own bisexuality. I started to notice things about Martin and Ben that other people were noticing too. Shipping them helped me navigate that time in my life because I saw myself in it. I related to it. But it wasn't a choice. My brain just went there. Maybe I was Baader-Meinhoffing but even if I was, that doesn’t mean it’s something I didn’t need to explore, work out in my mind, and discover.

Shennant (Michael Sheen and David Tennant) is my 3rd RP ship. Yes I fell in love with Aziraphale and Crowley of course, but again, as I started to follow the fandom and David’s and Michael’s careers specifically, watching interviews, watching Staged, etc, I started noticing the same thing that many others noticed. I literally couldn’t help it. My brain, again, just went there. Also in Staged of course, they play themselves. I have to say that my RP Shipping really took off after I watched them in that. They play themselves. Their actual partners are in it. If one were to write Staged fic, is that not RPF? Where is the line between what is supposed to be okay and what is not?

Again, with this ship, I had big things going on in my personal life. Dad passed away almost a year and a half ago, and now I'm taking care of my elderly mom long distance. It's a huge emotional burden. I'm not dating anyone right now mostly because of that but also because I was in a poly relationship with the male half of a het married couple (longtime friends of mine) that ended extraordinarily painfully (so this was V or chain-style poly not group-sex poly). Since then I've been alone for more than 2 years. I'm still getting over it.

The love I see between Michael and David feels unconditional. I see adoration. If they are indeed in a healthy poly relationship, my god, how on earth did they do that? Even while navigating fame? It’s certainly a lot more difficult than my own situation. I can explore it: What kind of person feels safe to me the way I believe David feels safe with Michael? What kind of relationship can withstand the kind of obstacles they (and I) might face? What would have had to actually happened for them to be as happy as they seem to be? What discussions were had? What agreements were reached? How does one do this the right way? What does that tell me about my own relationship and what went wrong? What should have happened?

This is, in its most academic sense, a tool for my brain to heal and to discover what kind of a relationship I want. And my brain knows it. That’s why it ships. My heart doesn’t know that. It just knows I love seeing them happy together. This is the magnet that drew me.

RP Shipping helps us to work shit out in our personal lives.

I bought Spark edited by Atlin Merrick recently. One of the essays by Angela Nauss, LMFT (Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist) really stood out to me is titled Sympathy for the Devil: Attachment Theory and FanFiction.

The article is about fanfiction authors, however I would extrapolate this to include readers and RP Shippers as well. RP Shippers are authors of narratives in their own mind, even if they are not always written down.

From the book:

“Fanfiction authors process attachment wounds using fictional characters as proxies…to process and understand the origin of the problems encountered during adolescence.”

“Some authors write fanfiction to humanize uncomfortable aspects of their identity, grieve and repair damaged relationships, and process attachment wounds…by exploring how the character would behave in adaptive relationships.”

“Fanfiction authors project their unconscious trauma onto the characters.”

“The characters gain insight into their behavior and no longer feel responsible for their childhood attachment wounds. Through their writing, the author incorporates repressed trauma and attachment wounds into their conscious experience and achieves catharsis.”

“Writing fanfiction is a valid form of therapeutic self-exploration.”

I’ve been in therapy for several years, In fact the poly relationship I was in is why I seeked out therapy in the 1st place. I know that shipping these people, exploring aspects of that, is helping me to heal attachment wounds and the trauma caused by past relationships.

As part of my healing from this poly relationship I was in, I intend to write a meta and/or a fic about David and Michael. I know it will aid in my healing. I may or may not post it.

Also, even Shakespeare wrote RPF.

I’m seeing people say that we RP Shippers are terrible, immoral, disgusting, gross people and that we want David and Michael to leave their partners. That we want to break up their families. Let me be clear that I want nothing of the sort.

There are people out there that want to "protect" them from this “immorality” by shaming us, berating us, calling us names. Even sending certain blogs directly to Georgia and Anna! This is the exact opposite of what actions like this are actually doing. This does not protect them from harm. It creates it.

There is no such thing as thought crime.

Not only is it impossible for me to choose not to ship these people, but I also get the sense that even thinking about it is supposed to be wrong. That it makes me an immoral person.

Something I keep seeing is that people are so upset that we RP Shippers are doing this. Like, why don’t we just, stop. Just look at all the other appropriate characters that are out there to ship! Or just never start in the first place. As if this was a choice we are making to consciously ship real people.

When shippers ship a couple, do they choose that couple consciously? Do they say, hmm, I'm going to ship X person and Y person because it's...logical? Or for whatever consciously thought of reason? I'm going to go out on a limb and speak for mostly all shippers and say no. Shippers ship because we see something in those 2 characters that we are drawn to like magnets, for whatever reason. Real People included. If you're on Tumblr for a fandom and read fic, you know what I'm talking about.

Male/Male relationships is a fetish, or a kink, for me. And by extension, RPS/RPF as well. I do enjoy thinking about what might be the "reality" behind the curtain that we are shown as part of their public personas. This is part of the ingredients to this fetish, or kink, for me.

Kink is defined by Wikipedia as “the use of non-conventional sexual practices, concepts or fantasies. The term derives from the idea of a “bend” (a “kink”) in one’s sexual behaviour, to contrast such behaviour with “straight” or “vanilla” sexual mores and proclivities. It is thus a colloquial term for non-normative sexual behaviour.”

A fetish is defined by Wikipedia as referring “to any sexually arousing stimuli, not all of which meet the medical criteria for fetishism. This broader usage of fetish covers parts or features of the body (including obesity and body modifications), objects, situations and activities (such as smoking or BDSM).”

Generally, modern sexual health thinking seems to say “So long as your fetish doesn’t get in the way of your own well-being, the safety of others, and your partners participate enthusiastically, there is nothing wrong with it.”

It seems to be another taboo to claim gay (or bi/pansexual) men as a fetish, or a kink. There are some who claim that it’s objectifying the very real experiences of gay men. I struggle with this because I can't deny that I enjoy it but I also don't want to hurt anyone.

I am not a gay man. I will never be a gay man. I am a cis bisexual woman. I can never know what that experience is like. This is, in essence, the core of the fantasy. It can feel as good and perfect and romantic and loving as I want it to be because I don’t have the parts or experience to know it first hand. Therefore I've come to the conclusion that my thoughts in my head and anything I write down in a safe space does not hurt anyone. For me personally, it’s a way to disconnect from myself. People enjoy fic for all sorts of reasons. I shouldn’t have to prove that my reasons are "wholesome" to be allowed to enjoy it.

I don’t enjoy reading het fiction for reasons I won’t go into, however they are probably not individual to just me alone. Hoards of women like me also enjoy the same thing.

So yeah. To the surprise of absolutely no one, thinking about Michael and David, or Martin and Ben, or Dave and Martin, or men in general, kissing or having sex or a romance with each other – turns me on. That leads me to state the following:

Anti-RP Shipping and Anti-RP Fiction is kink shaming.

When I say "Anti", I'm referring to those who loudly object to it. Not those who (thankfully) say "that's not for me" and move on. Just like I would with say, Omegaverse.

Because my interpretation of these real people is in reality, “fiction” in my own head, then by definition all RP Shipping is RP Fiction. It cannot be reality because I don’t know them. Therefore any stories, speculation, comments, analysis, conclusions, art, etc, IS ALL FICTION.

Real people are characters to your brain.

Obviously I don’t know them personally, so anything that I were to believe or create in my head about them is by definition, fiction. My brain makes it up according to what I’ve seen, read, heard, observed and drew conclusions from. This creates a fictional reality for my brain to consume. It can’t be reality because I don’t know them.

Wikipedia says RPF writers are “building a fictional universe based on the supposed real-life histories of their idols. Information from interviews, documentaries, music videos, and other publicity sources are assimilated into the stories. It is also very popular to write fiction about celebrity couples. Communities of writers build collective archetypes based on the celebrities' public personas".

I would never, under any circumstances, present any RPS/RPF questions, stories, insinuations, or even mention it at all directly to the actors/musicians/personalities or their partners or even anyone associated with them. I would be beyond embarrassed to do so. Even though Michael himself seems to be accepting of it, I would never present it to him. Never. (I mean it’s not like I could really anyway but still).

I believe that 99.9% of RP Shippers would do the same. It’s the .01% that have done so (and unscrupulous “journalists” looking to shock by asking questions/showing them the RPF, and those people claiming to prevent harm by sending it directly to them “for legal action” or tattletale “look at what these terrible people are doing” and blaming the RP shippers for creating it – wow talk about projection) -that make a bad name for us all. Showing it to them and asking them about it IS a choice.

If RP Shipping is not a choice, a way to work out personal mental health issues, is fictional by definition, and a non-pathological aid to sexual excitement that hurts no one if it is contained within safe spaces such as fic sites and Tumblr, then what exactly is the harm?

Tumblr is a safe space.

Why is there such vitriol against RP Shipping and RPF? You claim to be protecting the actors or people in question, but by raising your voices so loudly in various ways, you are harming the very person you claim to be protecting. I think you have to ask what it is within yourself that makes you so aggressively hate this? Why can't we just say "that's not for me" and move on?

Don't we on Tumblr and on AO3 celebrate non-mainstream ideas such as this? Or if not celebrate, at least live and let live. The fact is that Tumblr is supposed to be a safe space. I should feel safe speaking my mind here. I know quite a few RP shippers follow me so I don't feel completely alone, but I don't feel entirely safe posting this.

My morality is not yours to police.

I strongly doubt I’ll be changing anyone’s mind with this. If you’re Anti RP shipping and Anti RPF you’re probably going to stay that way.

Don’t like, don’t read.

You can unfollow, block people, block tags, filter tags on AO3...any number of things. Think of it like a trigger. Just please don't spew hate.

[klbwriting]

Not Romeo, Not Juliet

Chapter 13: Sweet (The End)

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: the Shakespeare competition brings on changes

Notes: Here is the final chapter! There is a sequel coming which who knows, I might post the first chapter today, not sure yet! I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist for the next one!

Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch @amberpanda99

YN was dressed in her Lady MacBeth costume, backstage with her school as the competition was going on. It was at Gotham University so they had very nice backstage areas where all the theater groups had their own space, but they could still see the rest as they gathered. YN kept glancing, looking for Jason, at least wanting to wave or smile at him before he went on. Plus, he was in tights, and she was desperate to have that image burned into her memory and she didn’t know if she could sneak out to watch any of his show since they were on right after Bludhaven Prep. She felt someone tap her shoulder and turned, frowning at the sight of Sydney.

“Hi?” she said. She knew Sydney from last year, she was the one who had backed her up when she had told the Shakespeare council about the leading lady controversy.

“Hey, just wanted to come give you this, our director is keeping Jason busy right now, him and the other seniors are working out some issues…” she said, handing over a rose with a note attached to it. “He also said he loves you, you’re going to kill it, and his brother is throwing an after party in the café area of the university so don’t leave right away.” YN laughed, reading the note that just had a heart with his initials on it.

“Thanks,” she said. “I won’t have you playing messenger, but you can let him know that I got his message.” Sydney nodded and headed back to her group. YN knew that Jackson, Matt, and Chelsea had released the video, they had to be the ones who had done it, but she had no proof, so she was prepared to let it go. It sucked, they were terrible people, but she wasn’t one for revenge honestly, and it brought her closer to Jason. He had told her everything after the kidnapping, his past as Robin, she knew who Batman was for fuck’s sake. It was dangerous knowing these kinds of secrets, but she wasn’t a snitch either. She finally caught Jason’s eye as he came out of side room with Jackson, Matt, and Chelsea, all of them looking rather annoyed as they milled around. She caught his eye and held up the rose. He smiled at her, giving a wave and she felt herself fall more in love with him, blushing as she turned back to her team who were glaring at her. She rolled her eyes, not caring at all what they thought. Then her phone rang. She had special permission to have her phone on her at all times just in case her mother had a medical emergency. She stepped away to answer it and the smile fell from her face.

Jason noticed her change in mood when the call came in. She didn’t run off, only hung up and went back to her team, loosely holding his flower now, looking dejected, so he knew it wasn’t some bad news about her mother. Something else had stolen her smile and he felt his desire to punch something grow. It didn’t help that the other seniors were sticking by their bullshit excuses for being dicks to YN. They had pulled him aside early, apologizing to him for how they acted around him. He wasn’t the one they should have been apologizing to, but they wouldn’t budge on that. YN wasn’t even really a person to them now that they knew she was from Crime Alley and her father was a mid-level crime boss. He really hoped that during the spring semester he could just leave them behind. He refocused his mind on the play, wanting to get past this before he talked to YN.

“And our award today for Leading Male goes to Jason Todd from Bludhaven Preparatory for his portrayal of Hamlet,” the president of the Shakespeare council said from the stage. Jason looked around backstage at the others in his class. They looked shocked. During their performance Matt had tripped, falling off the stage midway through act 4 and they all figured that pretty much destroyed their chances of winning anything considering he had to do the rest of the show in a chair since he might have broken his ankle. No one expected Jason to win but here he was, walking out and taking a trophy from the president, saying a quick thank you before standing awkwardly off to the side while they announced the Leading Lady next. “And our Leading Lady this year is YN YLN from Gotham Academy for her portrayal of Lady MacBeth.” YN came out and took the trophy, smiling at Jason who was smiling back at her. They joined hands and held up their trophies before parting to go backstage. The rest of his castmates gave him a half-assed congratulations because they knew the big prize of Best Production was going to…”Gotham Academy for MacBeth.” “Thanks a lot Matt,” grumbled Chelsea as she stalked off to change into her afterparty clothes. Jason just rolled his eyes, heading to change himself. Dick found him as he was washing off the stage makeup in the large bathroom behind the auditorium.

“Look at that, we have a real thespian in the family,” he said, walking over and picking up the trophy. “I’m proud of you.” Jason blushed, not realizing how much he actually wanted Dick to be proud of him. He swallowed hard, making sure to wipe his face off, because the makeup was getting in his eyes, making them water. “YN, is waiting right outside by the way, please come to the after party before you two go sneaking off, I did pay for it.” Jason chuckled and nodded, letting Dick take the trophy with him.

“Well, if it isn’t the leading man,” YN said as he exited the bathroom in his typical combat pants and black tshirt. He walked over to her, pulling her close and kissing her. “Your death scene was incredible.”

“Well, unlike most I have practical experience in that,” he said. “But yours wasn’t so bad either my leading lady.”

“Yes, because it was offstage and no one saw it,” she laughed. Then her smile fell a little. “Can we talk?” O he hated the sound of that. She must have seen the panic in his eyes. “Its not bad, well, its not good either.” She took his hand and led him towards the party, stopping at a bench outside the café to sit down. Despite the cold and the snow Jason felt warm when she slid her arms through his arm to hold it close.

“Just rip the band aid off,” he said softly, not wanting to stall what he could tell was probably going to destroy him.

“Someone has anonymously donated a lot of money so that my mom can get into a clinical study of a new cancer treatment being done in Singapore,” she said. “I’m not 18 so legally I can’t stay here without a guardian, and I don’t want to leave my mom alone in a new country, so I’ve decided to go too.” Jason’s head fell. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to wait for me, or to stay being mine when I can’t be here with you. I don’t want to fight and breakup because I’m halfway across the world.”

“I understand,” Jason said softly. He started to feel himself shutting down, wanting to push her away with a flippant comment, but when he looked at her and saw that this was killing the same way it was him, he couldn’t do it. “Your mom needs you, how long is the treatment?”

“It’s supposed to last six months,” she said. “I’ll probably finish school online.” He nodded.

“Do you plan on going to Gotham U still?” he asked. She nodded. “Alright, so I’ll see you at college then?” Not like he was leaving the city and Gotham U was the best college they had, he was obviously going there also. She smiled a little.

“Ya, although I think by then you will have another person you love, and who loves you just as much as I do,” she said. He shook his head.

“One last date tonight?” he asked, nodding towards the party. She nodded. “One last kiss?” She nodded again. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers, fingers coming up to gently wipe the tears from her face. When they parted, she traced the scar on his cheek again. “Come on, Dick wants to meet you properly and show you he’s not that bad.”

“Ya, let’s go,” she said. Jason stood, taking her hand. His heart was in pieces, but it felt ok, it would be ok somehow. She would come back, and they could try again when they had more choice, more control, when they were just playing characters in a tragedy, not living it.

Parting is such sweet sorrow

-Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 2

[fuckthisshitimin]

Unalive -- A Love Letter

I came across the word unalive first in a tumblr post. Reading it several times over, I got that it showed distaste for the term but was yet unaware of its censorship-roots and tik-tok popularity. For a split moment before my mind caught up and started thinking, my non-native-English-speaker brain went “new word; un + alive; looks like [unsee—unsex]; associated with [impossible—reality-shifting]” and I fell in love a little. No, no, I fell hard in love, lots in love, okay, with unalive. Sorry. I know it’s a bad word.

But unsee, unsex — the one who wishes to unsee is the one that has seen, when Lady Macbeth asks to be unsexed it is to higher god-like powers, unalive suggests; the hand that kills had a hand in a-living you in the first place. The Cambridge Dictionary defines unsee as “to return to a situation in which you have not seen something” to unalive would be “to return someone to a situation in which they have not been alive” ;;; this is TERRIFYING actually. It is worse than being merely killed.

What the hell is unalive. What the hell happened. It’s so grammatically weird, I’m not sure it’s a verb or a noun. An action upon someone or a state of being.

Oh, Oscar, he’s —

unalive? analive?

it’s not that he’s dead but

he’s the opposite of what he was.

unalived?

see, something grabbed through Oscar and turned the organs inside out/or his soul, inside-out

he’s been — hallowed — unalived — was it “hollowed”? — claimed back — taken a-way and a-part —un-a-live-d — his living license got revoked — we got a call from God — It said “we’re gonna have to have to have to; unalive Oscar” — emptied out — unalived.

We’ll forget he ever was here soon.

[pieandpaperbacks]

Top 10 books of 2023

My favourite books of 2023, in no particular order:

A House With Good Bones - T. Kingfisher I was so disappointed when this didn’t win the goodreads choice awards for horror of the year. It’s so creepy and unsettling but in a uniquely T. Kingfisher way that somehow manages to still be funny and kind of cozy.

Wyrd Sisters - Terry Pratchett Of all the Discworld books I read this year, this one was definitely my favourite. I feel like Pratchett started to find his stride in this one, which I noticed more reading chronologically. Also it’s a spoof of Macbeth, and I’m a sucker for anything with Macbeth jokes.

The Bone Season (10th Anniversary Revised Edition) - Samantha Shannon I’ve loved the Bone Season series ever since I binged it in 2021, but the first book always fell a little flat for me. This revised edition fixed all the problems I had with the original. Highly recommend if you’re looking for a really unique fantasy/dystopia.

A Day of Fallen Night - Samantha Shannon I love Priory of the Orange Tree, so I was a little hesitant about a prequel, but ADOFN somehow managed to surpass Priory. It’s a  perfect high fantasy that spans many countries and characters, and features multiple sapphic characters, as well as bisexual, asexual, and other queer folks. This was my absolute favourite book of the year.

Stone Butch Blues - Leslie Feinberg One of the most important queer novels of the last 50 years. So glad I read this.

Tell Me I'm An Artist - Chelsea Martin This book found me at just the right time. It asks what it means to be an artist, and explores the intersections between the art world and privilege, and looks at the age old question; what is art?

Gideon the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir I am so late to the Locked Tomb hype, and I can’t believe it took me this long to pick up Gideon the Ninth! The Locked Tomb is quickly becoming one of my favourite fantasy series.

Heartstopper Volume 5 - Alice Oseman I waited all year for this instalment of the Heartstopper series to come out, and I devoured it in one day. Alice Oseman's work is always beautiful and heartfelt, and Volume 5 of Heartstopper is no exception.

The Well of Ascension - Brandon Sanderson I dipped my toes into Sanderson's work for the first time this year, and I started with the Mistborn series. While the prose is not the most complex, the characters and setting are what truly drew me in. So far, The Well of Ascension is my favourite of the trilogy.

Nettle and Bone - T. Kingfisher I read six T. Kingfisher books this year, with the first one being Nettle and Bone, and it's still one of my favourites. A weird dark fairytale with goblin markets, a quest to kill a prince, grave witches, an evil puppet, and a chicken possessed by a demon. What else could you want?

[rorygilmre]

Can you recommend your favorite classic novels or classics in general?

absolutely! i've become quite a fan of a few specific classics or classic authors. be warned that a lot of this is based in my VERY particular tastes. i am VERY much a fan of anything geared towards traditional ideas of crime and law, as well as anything from ancient greece and rome (which is why i have so much plato and cicero on my bookshelf), so my list is heavily influenced by that.

i will also note that these are novels/works that i consider to be classics, though i'm not sure of their actual presence on lists of classics. a lot of them are books i read for honors english/english lit/AP english lit classes in high school or ones i found through my college literature courses.

this is not an exhaustive list of every classic i've ever read, just the ones i enjoyed enough to buy and re-read! also, listed in no particular order.

the call of the wild

white fang (the very first classic i ever fell in love with, it holds a special place in my heart)

of mice and men (i know this gets a lot of criticism and that's justified, but i do think it still has a place in classic literature and it's a worthwhile read)

dante's inferno (i'm reading this now but i am obsessed with it)

almost anything written by Plato (his Socratic dialogues tend to be my favorites but i am currently working through his other works)

the count of monte cristo (i read this for the first time in 5th grade and became obsessed with it)

to kill a mockingbrid

the great gatsby (i could write so many essays on the social commentary of this novel)

crime and punishment

frankenstein (a good read for fall)

heart of darkness (i read this for the first time in high school but it was really good once you get the hang of it)

the trial (once i got into philosophy, kafka was such a good read)

macbeth (this is the best shakespeare, fight me)

** while the aeneid, the iliad, and the odyssey don't make an appearance here... i am fond of them. i just can't include them because i have only read excerpts thus far, though reading them entirely IS on my list.

[thechaoticreader]

Popular Books I Read and HATED

*Disclaimer: If you like any of these books, slay! I'm happy for you! These are just my own consumer choices, and imo negative book reviews are just as helpful as positive ones!*

This list is not long because I don't actively dislike many books that I read, and I have a very good sense of what I will and will not like, but there are some I had to read/were misled into reading so here we go:

1. Tender Is The Flesh

by Agustina Bazterrica

My rant review is above if you want more details but recently I've seen a few videos that articulate my feelings in a way that I couldn't before so im going to add a few reasons here that were not included in the original post:

It gave very Qanon and general antisemitic vibes: i.e blatant conspiracy made up by the "wealthy liberal elites" to encourage cannibalism for their own enjoyment (I know she's Argentinian however that doesn't mean im not allowed to get the ick from it)

Purposefully inaccurate depictions of meat industry and disrespect for farmers (context: im a vegetarian from farm country with a roommate who works in the cattle industry - Angus beef if you're curious - so im very familiar with the process and cannot say in good conscious that it is all bad -> just support local farmers <3)

world building makes little sense

COWS DO NOT EQUATE TO HUMANS NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO !!!!!!!!

the "disease" doesn't make sense (even if its made up who would believe it)

No themes were treated with the depth nor nuance they require (capitalism, feminism, veganism etc.)

I think thats all I haven't covered but this is the only book I have ever read where my hatred of it continues to grow with each day. I went out of my way and deleted it from my reader and get annoyed every time I see it. And for the record (because yes i'm salty) I didn't hate it because it was too disturbing, in fact I've read and loved worse and ive been an avid horror reader since I was (admittedly too) young. I hate it because there wasn't a well done story underneath the gore. I'll say it loudly for the people in the back GORY HORROR BOOKS STILL DESERVE A GOOD/INTERESTING STORY, especially if you want to try to put complex themes in it. If you cannot write a deep story but you're good at and enjoy gore, write yourself a lil 100 page splatter punk and we can all have a good time <3

Unlike with Tender Is The Flesh I don't have a ton of thought out critical reasons for the rest of these soooooo I'm going to give my highly subjective reasons -> I totally understand why some like them <3

2. The Handmaids Tale

by Margaret Atwood

hated the writing style

It didn't keep my attention

disliked the ending so much I actually threw it across the room <3

3. The Hobbit

by J.R.R Tolkien

hated the writing style

male centered fantasy is not my vibe

my ADHD cannot handle long incredibly descriptive sections in books -> I physically fell asleep multiple times while reading this book

honestly even with the movie I fall asleep every time

0/10 book I want to read

10/10 bedtime story

4. Lord of The Flies

by William Golding

hated the writing style

hated most of the characters (and not in a slay anti-hero way)

was forced to read it in high school and it single handedly sent me into a 4 year reading slump... I missed so many good books because of this and will forever hold a grudge

5. Romeo & Juliet

By William Shakespeare

I'm too jaded and gay to enjoy this -> every single character is so painfully stupid

tbh im just bitter that his (imo) better plays get less love than this one, its way over hyped

but I will give it points for boring me so much that I wrote my first fanfic (Romeo x Mercutio if you're curious ... no its not posted anywhere and it never will be <3)

sidenote -> Shakespeare plays I love incl:

Hamlet (duh im a depressed emo gay on Tumblr)

Macbeth (also duh, witches and female manipulator... need I say more)

Othello (a slow burn for the true crime girlies)

Measure for Measure (absolutely underrated, please please please look into this play -> I saw a production of it and it was incredible)

[fireheartwraith]

I just got Goncharov brainrot and !!! I need to talk about how it kind of reminds me of Macbeth (though it’s been a while since a read it) and how some people miss the Point, so let's break the movie down

We all know that Katya was from a powerful Russian family but, because misogyny, felt like her potential was being stunned. She eventually fell in love with Goncharov since he was the only one who listened to her ideas. Of course, a case can be made that they were never actually in love but simply using each other to achieve their own goals.

Since we only see their beginning through flashbacks though, I propose that both interpretations are true: high on the possibility of finally having what they wanted, they made themselves think they were in love with each other when in truth they were in love with the idea of having power. I even have evidence! The first time we see them meeting at the party, the roses are pink, but the second time they are paler and beginning to wilt. Very obvious allusion to the rose colored glasses falling. Also note that the rain became a storm

Them going to Naples to evade the Russian government was Katya's brother was her idea, not his. She first mentions vacationing in Italy as a child at breakfast right after they were discussing how to cement their influence, and then server him wine from Naples at dinner. This was a deliberate choice on her part, otherwise they wouldn't have shown her picking it, it would have just skipped to the dinner scene with goncharav and her Valery. Maybe I'm biased because I'm a 'Katya is the true protagonist' truther, but oh well. This is also foreshadowing how Katya kills her brother later on by poisoning his wine. Very Medea of her.

Once they get to Naples we can see Katya talking her husband into their most risky plans, but eventually we see Sofia planting seeds into Katya's head that eventually leads Goncharov to order Andrey to kill the son of their rival family, the Rossi, which sparks a war between their families. Rossi also plays into the red theme, both Katya and Goncharov get more and more surrounded by the color as the movie goes on.

Remember how Katya leans into Sofia and then says she smells like lilies? The next time they talk about perfume, Sofia says she likes jasmines, so why did she smell like lilies? Well, if look through the window of the Rossi family's house when Valery goes there, you can see they have a lily garden, and we know Sofia was in debt to someone powerful, likely the Rossi family. She made the Goncharovs take out the people after her and many of y'all didn’t even notice!! If we consider the strings being pulled like the ultimate wand from harry potter, one could say that from this point onwards Sofia is the one controlling it, not Katya or Gorbachev. But Sofia herself is being controlled by her debt, so she's also caught in the strings

Ice Pick Joe cornered Katya about her sabotaging her husband because she wanted the competition to take him off so she could take over the business and unfortunately Goncharov overheard their conversation. And obviously there's a clock behind him when he leaves.

We see Katya and him getting further and further apart after this, Katya going to Sofia and him to Andrey, which takes a toll on their operations since they are not in sinc anymore. Mario then reveals to the Rossi Boss (who may be a stand in for destiny since he is the only unnamed main character and the clocks are always static when he's around, showing he will never 'run out of time' like the rest of the cast) that Andrey was the one to kill his son, resulting in his falloff with Gorbachev. Then Ice Pick Joe makes good on his promise to always side with the victors and kills Andrey to get into the rival's side.

This is the final straw for Goncharov, that absolutely spirals after his "best friend's" death, much like Dom Casmurro. Though in the book he also thought that Capitu had cheated on him with said best friend and here Goncharov just thinks his wife betrayed him and killed his bff. But still, he's crazy now so we finally get to the climax!!

He locks Katya, him, and IPJ in the boathouse and then sets fire to the place, paralleling him and Katya ser fire to her family home to buy them time to get out of Russia. IPJ and Katya manage to kill Goncharov, and then Joe tries to kill Katya but runs because the building is starting to collapse. Despite her injuries Katya also manages to flee, and we get to the bridge, aka my favorite scene

So, Sofia meets Katya in the middle of the bridge, and it looks like she was waiting for her. We can still see the smoke in the air and the fire from the boathouse reflecting in the water. And then Sofia points a gun at Katya. She is too hurt to run and IPJ took her pistol, so she tries to talk to Sofia, who kisses her cheek like Judas and says "oh, love. If only freedom wasn't power" and shoots her in the heart. These are the last words we hear in the movie. I've seen some discourse on why she says that instead of "if only power wasn't freedom", which would make more sense considering that both she and Katya talked about wanting freedom, but I think that's because both of them wanted power more than they wanted freedom. She could have just sold them out, but she went the extra mile to get in with the Rossi

Katya's body then falls in the water as the bells ring midnight, meaning it's a new day. We look back at Sofia and we see the hand of the Boss on her shoulder (look at the ring), proving that she killed Katya to get in with them. We can see the fire reflecting in her eyes and she would look impassive if it wasn't for that single tear. The clock is still chiming, so I think the tear isn't for Katya but for herself, since now she is also running out of time.

The movie ends with Sofia, Mario, and Ice Pick Joe being the only ones from the Gorbachev mafia clan to survive, and only because of their betrayal. Some people complain about this "message" but they are dumb and miss the point of the movie, which is that the persuit of power can only end in death because those that seek it will never be satisfied with how much they have. Hence all the clocks. They were doomed from the moment they went down this path. Like Macbeth. And now it's Sofia turn.

So yeah. It may be a mafia movie, but that’s just the setting. It was never about that.

[rottenwoodandwiltedsunflowers]

1/27 Early- Waffle Recap

Here we go again!!! I'm really trying to make a huge effort to write down at least some thoughts from all my shows now. The end is looming and feels imminent. One of my biggest regrets around the show is not writing down my thoughts and shows and feelings more. I've forgotten so many tiny moments over the last decade that once brought me sparks of happiness. I know the days is coming we can never go back and I don't want to forget anything. This show and space is so ingrained in my life and I want to hold onto what I can for as long as I can.

From here on out it's all or broke (and we will be broke by the time this show finally closes). We lined up in Oz's list because we are way too old now and time is short so we are springing for the VIP tickets. After heading to the ballroom and trying to figure out who had my interest, I kind of wandered around. I took a stroll through the 4th floor attempting to find something that sparked my attention. I really was having a bit of an aimless start and the witches were approaching so I made the decision to head to the 5th floor. The space has always held an interest to me and I figured if nothing else, I could use the space to recalibrate my afternoon.

I went toward the office and visited the padded cell. I went over to my favorite piece in the building, laundry wolf and gave them a little pet pet. I continued on until I came across Marija's Nurse in the room with the tubs. This was where I decided easily to spend my first loop. Marija is an absolutely stunning dancer. I know her check-out was looming and I'm grateful I got another chance to silently follow one more loop. When I found her she was fretting over some water in a tub. She looked very unsettled and deep in thought. With no one else around I stepped to the side to watch. After a moment, she reached for a paper clipping that was sitting on the desk next to the tub. She wet the clipping and plastered it to the inside wall of the tub near the drain pull. After seeming satisfied that it would stay put, she made her way to her office to retrieve her bag. I enjoyed how she paused to look up at the web of paper that was draped over the space.

Down to 3 we went. Marija is nothing if not meticulous and precise when it comes to her duty. She collected a robe and tidied the bathtub. While I was watching her I noticed a dude pick up the Lady Macbeth letter that fell from the tub. He absolutely had that new guy vibe and was trying to read what was on the paper which was fine but I watched, as she dried the floor, and he eventually took the letter and stepped back with it hanging loosely in his hand. Nurse finished and began looking around. I realized she was looking for the letter...in unsuspecting dude's hand. She finally looked as if she was going to try to make shift a folded letter from the soggy copy on the floor when I leaned over and plucked the letter tossing it back onto the tub area. As she stood she caught it out of the corner of her eye and picked it up returning it to the tub after reading it. Sorry guy.

Down to the mezzanine we went. As I stand and watch the nurse now, I can't help but think of the 1:1 that was taken post covid. It was such a lovely extra bit of info that really explained the motivation of Nurse Shaw and added to the character. RIP. Partway through the banquet, I headed up the stairs because I wanted to take my time rather than chasing a crowd up 5 flights of stairs. These days I also like to find new ways to watch things I've seen many times. To see scenes in a new light from a new angle. I got to the landing between 4 and 5 and just hung over the railing looking down the stairs and waiting. Eventually I watched as Zina's Lady Macbeth headed up the stairs toward the ward. As she passed the 3rd floor, I moved up to the 5th floor and watched her assent. As she rounded the landing below me, I scurried down the hall and watched her enter the floor. I crept into the bathtub room and waited for the nurse to appear before watching the scene unfold. Marija guided her to the bath and I crept out behind her to head back down to the 3rd floor.

I thought about the bond between Lady Macbeth and Nurse Shaw as I watch the nurse carefully lay out her clothes in the window box. When we returned to the ward and made our way into the woods, Marija looked a little lost. She stumbled upon the Matron and helped her back to her hut. After being rocked and comforted, the air changed and Nurse Shaw fled the woods. She stopped about half way out and looked around almost debating with herself as to which way was the exit. By the time she emerged into the room with the tubs she seemed upset and frustrated. She returned to the bathtub I found her at when I picked up the loop and quickly swipped at the paper still stuck to the inside of the tub. In a rush on the way though the room she balled the paper up and sent it flying into a corner.

I really enjoyed seeing Marija dance both the possessed limb dance and the bed solo. She is such a strong dancer and soloist and I'm glad I got to appreciate her work in the hotel one last time. I was just finishing up her loop when she went to climb through the window and head to the mirror dance. I headed into the woods and there is where I found, no joke, the most shocking thing I've ever found in 10 years of McKittrick shows. I'm not really ready to share what I found and the subsequent events that threw my entire day of shows into the wildest tailspin I never expected. I'm defiantly going to write up the rest but it's going to stay a private post for now.

It was truly a wild show.

[writinghypothesis]

The definition of literature has always been "any collection of written work characterized by excellence of style and expression and by themes of general or enduring interest". But to me, literature is so much more than that. It's about the enduring passion and empathy of the readers, the emotions and feelings of the characters, and the realistic maturity of the writers. People use literature as a medium to escape their daily lives and enter a world full of fantasy and fiction. Children usually enter the world of books through fairy tales, although at that time, it's because they are captivated by the colorful illustrations drawn in kids' books. The first book that I read was "The Little Mermaid" written by "Hans Christian Anderson," and it was so magical. My young childhood mind was overwhelmed with the thought of various different realms existing. My mother inculcated the culture of reading in me by buying me "Fables Collection" and "Fairy Tales," which tingled the curiosity inside the little me and made me obsessed with that idea. I not only fell in love with the characters and stories, but I also fell in love with the emotions of each and every character that different authors portrayed in their own unique style. There was a hidden classic intimacy in each and every relationship that was portrayed. Literature allows us to sit in silence and consume its beauty completely. Rain and a cup of hot coffee are the best mood setters while reading a book, especially one that tells us about a classic tragedy. As we study literature in depth, we come across different genres and eras, starting with the Elizabethan Era (considered to be the literary height of the English Renaissance). The greatest writer of all time, William Shakespeare, belongs to this era. He made us understand the beauty and intimacy of tragedies and how our human mind remembers those painful scars more than the happy moments because we talk about a tragic wounded ending more in order to get over that. Each and every character that he wrote has such meaningful implications. Macbeth and King Othello are similar yet so different. Shakespeare used the main characters in both plays as warriors who had constant outside voices seeping into their minds, manipulating them, which ultimately led to their tragic downfall. Macbeth represents a classic tragedy in which the protagonist travels down a dark path of violence and treachery, however King Othello represents a tragedy full of misery, insecurity, and jealousy. When it comes to the most sensational and popular play of Shakespeare among young adults and teens, the first name that strikes our mind is Romeo and Juliet, the epic love saga as many call it. The central protagonists, Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet, had an undeniable chemistry between them from the first sight itself. The play shows that love is a violent, ecstatic, overpowering force that supersedes all other values, loyalties, and emotions. Shakespeare beautifully portrayed the trope of two star crossed lovers who loved each other at the wrong time. This is the very beauty of literature - as much as it gives us contentment and satisfaction, it also causes immense heartbreak and pain; after all happiness and sadness are always interlinked with each other. One can't survive in the absence of the other. They are one thread, the same line viewed from different sides.

[puckwritesstuff]

How does one get past the mess pit of love and thunder in order to be strong enough do a rewrite fix it?

I mean, it helps that I tend to only write the scenes with Sigyn in them.

Seriously, look back at my rewrite of Ragnarok (which is a film I actually did enjoy) and you'll find some of the most dramatic and melodramatic elements of the fic. Hell, the scene where Sigyn and Loki are reunited on Sakaar was the reason I wanted to write the fic in the first place. And there was absolutely no equivalent in the movie. In the first two films, Sigyn's arcs were complementary to Loki's in very trope-y ways. Sigyn was the Desdemona in the first film, and then the Lady Macbeth in the second. These worked, because those films were drawing from those Shakespearean tropes and motifs. Ragnarok... did not, so I had to switch modes.

Now, I wrote the whole original thing from the first Thor film to the first season of Loki as one huge fic, so I was able to go back and make at least that portion consistent with itself. That's why I've got Frigga singing the song from the train scene in Loki in the first chapter-- I planned for that to be a running theme in the fic when I was going through on the second/third draft. When it came to Ragnarok, it was more of an extension of The Dark World than anything else-- basically, the dog caught the car, so now what? Given that the bedroom scene was the basis of it, I knew three things had to happen.

Loki had to be a shit king, and not that great a husband either, at least under the circumstances. My hands were somewhat tied by the film for this one-- depicting Loki as a neglectful and decadent king who couldn't administrate. I linked the two, and in rewrites and edits, came to what ended up on the page: after the death of Loki's son, he tried to pressure Sigyn for children, she refused, and their marriage fell apart. This led to their administration falling apart, and you know the rest.

They had to be separated for a long period of time. This was easier to achieve-- Sakaar is weird with time, I made her land their two years earlier than Thor.

I had to make Sigyn an enemy of the Grandmaster. The crux of the scene is that Sigyn is offering herself for execution or worse in exchange for Loki's safety, and Loki reveals that it was him in the room the whole time and she would never be in any danger from him. Loki never has and never will lay a hand on Sigyn (outside of sparring).

The last one is where I've really screwed myself with Love and Thunder-- because I put her in charge of the resistance on Sakaar, Sigyn is the one that knows Korg better than anyone else on the cast. I manage to handwave him off into the background, but...

But Korg isn't actually the problem. The problem is Bathos and somewhat-recent inability for Marvel to take its films seriously.

See, LDGP is a melodrama. I have tagged it as such, and I will freely admit it to anyone that asks. And that's not a bad thing! Melodrama thrives in comics and comics-based mediums, and it's fun to write and cathartic to read. Where this comes into conflict with the MCU is that melodrama is based in sincerity, and the MCU seems to have developed an allergy to sincerity. It's not that it can't do it, and it's not consistent either, but it hit Thor hard, and by Thor, I mean the character. Ragnarok had some interesting themes and seemed to at least somewhat continue his arc from the first two films with him finally accepting the throne with humility and understanding the origins of his father's empire and reconciling with his brother. It wasn't a perfect film, and there was some tonal whiplash, but the story was there if you looked, and it took enough things seriously that I was able to accept the tone shift.

Then the Russos decided that they needed comic relief for Endgame.

I'm with Red from OSP on this, I don't think the Russos like Thor very much. Thor having diagnosable depression after the events of Ragnarok and Infinity War? Fine, I'll grant him that, he had a really awful couple of days there. Thor abandoning his duties as king and spiraling into a drunken stupor, with the film framing this as something to laugh at? No, that's just bad writing because you don't know what to do with the character. This was why Thor got dusted, by-the-by. If he'd been treated with respect by the text of the film, I might have gone a different route. I'm not against comedy (Sigyn asking if the TVA is a cult is one of my favorite bits), but I am of the opinion that you should treat your characters with respect. When something happens, allow it to happen without cutting it off at the knees with a joke. Compare the first Guardians of the Galaxy-- there's a lot of jokes and the characters are quick to deflect their emotions with snark, but the film gives "We are Groot." the weight and the significance that it deserves, without being worried that the audience is going to think that the movie is uncool by doing it.

So, to the topic at hand, what I'm going to do with Love and Thunder is the literary equivalent of strip mining the story for its plot and whatever lines of dialogue are necessary to move that along, and make up everything else. I'm also only going to write the scenes that Sigyn directly impacts, because it's a more efficient use of my time, and will give the story of Sigyn and Loki the room it needs to continue. And, I mean, think about the things that are going to have to happen in this fic-- someone's out there killing gods, Sigyn's got a surprise new relative she's never mentioned before, Sif looses an arm, Jane dies, Sig's gotta tell Thor that she's his sister, Loki and Thor are going to reunite...

I've got plenty to work with, trust me. ^_^

[enashinonome]

8 15 17!

hii lav thank you for the ask! 🤍

8. what musical artists have you felt most connected to over your lifetime?

definitely sidney gish! her music came into my life at a pivotal time, and i haven't stopped listening to her since. her lyrics are somehow simultaneously playful and poignant...all of her wistful witticisms, quips, and nods to 2010s pop culture are so charming. i'm sure there are other artists that i've connected with, but she's the one that stands out the most. if i were to recommend any songs of hers, sin triangle, impostor syndrome, friday night placebo, and presumably dead arm are quintessential. my last url, mouthlog, is actually one of my favorite songs of hers: mouth log!

15. five most influential books over your lifetime

this is sooo hard lol. not only because i've read a lot in my life, and i still have yet to read more, but also because my memory sucks and i can't remember any of the books i've read that brought new meaning to my life. ocean vuong's on earth we're briefly gorgeous is one of my favorite books of all time. richard siken's war of the foxes has my favorite poems from him. when i was younger, my dad gave me a copy of the little prince to read, and it changed me forever. romeo and juliet was the first of shakespeare's plays that i read in full (not counting the children's version of macbeth my friend lent me). i was so caught by his writing and the genius behind every syllable that i fell deeply in love with it, so it will always be dear to my heart. and probably the entire warrior cats series. those books cemented my weird kid status.

17. would you say your tumblr is a fair representation of the "real you"?

the "real me" is multifaceted, as is everyone's. i feel like my blog is a window into only a few of the many parts of me: the aesthete, the lover, the spiritual. my tumblr is more of a meditative happy place for myself than anything. here, i can put everything i love, find pretty, relate to, you name it, on my blog! and i can scroll through it and be reminded of all these things that bring joy into my life. that's why i try my best not to be negative here and also why i post a lot about the good things that happen in my life. so while it's not a whole representation of me (i'm outgoing, chatty, and make lots of jokes, which is something you probably wouldn't think about me based on my blog), it's still honest. tl;dr my blog is the "real me" but it is representative of a gentler me ^__^ 🌸

[huntingingoodwill]

accessory to matrimony - part iii

part i and ii

masterlist

fill out this form to be in my taglist :)

a/n: part iii time! they actually interact and touch for like more than two seconds this time like woah dude what?? wild! anyway this one's a little shorter than the first two :) part iv in the works thanks for reading friends please consider interacting if u enjoyed !

You were roused from your sleep by the click of the door, and you could hear feet pad softly across the floor toward you. Your eyes fluttered open, threatening to close just as quick, as their lids remained heavy with sleep. In your hazey, half-awake state you rolled over, swimming through your moonlight streaked sheets, each wrinkle in the fabric a wave.

You were living in that purgatory between being fully awake and being asleep, where drowsiness clouded your mind, making everything seem like a mirage.

“Tommy?” The word slipped from your mouth, and you were barely conscious if you had said it.

You saw him pause.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, standing by your bed, the shape of his figure visible in the shadows of the room, the lines of his shirt, his torso appearing in your vision. In your dazed state you reached out to him, burying your face in between the pillows, grasping for his arm.

“Come lie down.” You muttered, again, unconsciously, your lips loose, drunk on sleep. The mattress sank reassuringly next to you under his weight, and he lay down. You had felt cold, all alone in the bed moments before, and inched toward him as you felt the heat radiating off of him, so longing for warmth in your drowsy state that you would’ve moved toward him without a thought regardless of whether he was a hot water bottle or your husband. You threw your arm over his chest and buried your face in the crook of his arm. The contact was comforting, and you had never felt more relaxed.

You heard his shallow breaths, and you tried, failing, to follow the pattern of his soft breathing. His chest rose and fell gently. You couldn’t concentrate. You slipped into sleep easily, before you even fully woke up.

-

The song of the morning birds permeated the room through the open window, and you groaned, moving to pull the duvet tighter around your body. You knew they were just living their lives, and it was quite mean-spirited to think, but you did wish the morning birds would shut their traps, at least until it wasn’t so early.

You screwed your eyes shut, settling back into bed to try and catch a few more hours of sleep.

Realising that the surface your arm was lying on didn’t quite feel like a mattress, you hesitated.

You opened your eyes slowly, shocking yourself at how close you were to him.

You felt your cheeks warm with a blush. You hadn’t even remembered him coming back last night, and you’d already slung yourself over him, arm draped across his chest, face inches away from his. You tried to move away to give him some space, but stopped as you realised he had hooked his arm around your waist.

You settled back down into the pillows, not wanting to wake him. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, and judging from the shadows under his eyes he didn’t get much of it. You wished you could reach out your thumb and rub them away like they were smudges of makeup. It was an awful thing, to not be able to sleep. You hoped he wasn’t often denied that luxury. You rolled your eyes at yourself. Okay, Macbeth.

Sleep had just begun to reach over to pull you back into its realm, when you noticed a patch under Tommy’s cheek. A small, dark red stain that had bloomed on his pillow. You grumbled, disappointed, your eyes closing as you resolved to deal with it later. Your lovely pillows. Your eyes flung open in realisation. Your lovely husband!

Painstakingly slowly, trying not to wake him up, you removed his arm from your waist and sat up to look at him. His jacket, waistcoat and belt hung on the chair in the far corner of the room, and he still wore the shirt from your wedding, though now it was crumpled, half undone and stained with blood. He had cuts along his arms, his sleeve rolled up to reveal the dried blood surrounding them. A particular gash still looked like it had bits of broken glass in it, glimmering like crystals in the morning sun. You examined him, breathing a sigh of relief when you noticed the sprays of blood dotting his shirt seemed to be from his victims, not him. The wounds he sustained didn’t seem deep, and under the glow of the rising sun you could see the colour hadn’t left his face, his cheeks a cool pink under his freckles. But looking at him like this pained you. You weren’t particularly shocked. You had, after all, taken part in the family business, and knew how men like him operated. But you felt your heart ache in spite of that.

You slid off the bed, flagging down a housekeeper and asking her to get a first-aid kit, watching her scurry down the corridor to procure it. You took it from her gratefully and locked the door behind you, pulling out a bottle of liquor from the bar in the corner of your room, pouring a glass.

As much as you hated to disturb him, his eyes closed in blissful ignorance to the morning, you placed your hand on an unscathed part of his arm, shaking him gently. He woke with a jolt that startled you, but he relaxed when he saw it was you.

“Good morning, Thomas.” You smiled, his head rolling over to meet your gaze, eyes still blinking against the glare of light. “I think you might require some medical attention.”

“Thomas?” He grumbled.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” You replied. You leaned over to help him sit up, and sidled up closer to him to examine the cut on his cheek. It felt strange, to look at him so closely, to hold his face in your hand, cupping his chin and tilting his jaw.

“Formal, is all.” He spoke, voice raspy, and you felt his chest rumble with the words as you leaned towards his face, picking up a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic solution.

“How so?” You asked as he hissed at the sting of the antiseptic. You handed him the glass of liquor.

“For disinfecting?” He questioned.

“To drink. This might hurt a little.” You said, allowing him to take a swig before you continued to clean his cuts.

He grimaced after taking a sip.

“Not to your liking?” You teased.

"Not my poison."

“Isn’t it great how we’re already getting to know each other so well?” You laughed, your tongue swiping the top row of your teeth as you concentrated. “You didn’t answer my question. How’s it formal?”

“Well..” he began, and you could feel his eyes flicker to look at your face placed inches away from him, your cool breath on his cheek as you cleaned the cut. You felt your face flush under his gaze. “You called me Tommy last night.”

You stopped, backing away and bending over to pick up a bandage from the first aid kit to hide your embarrassment.

“Sorry.” You whispered. “I heard your brothers say it, and I must’ve just... my mind must’ve been foggy in my sleep...”

“It’s alright.” He mumbled, watching your eyebrows furrow in concentration as you checked to see if there was any remaining glass lodged in his arm, avoiding his gaze. “It’s my name, isn’t it?”

You smirked.

“How are your brothers, anyway? Had as rough of a night finishing up… business as you?”

“They weren’t so lucky.” You frowned, looking up at him in concern. “They didn’t have a woman to nurse them back to health.” You laughed, squeezing a particular part of his arm “on accident” as payback for making you worry.

-

It seemed to happen all too quickly, kissing your family and friends goodbye in the drive of the hotel in London, successfully cajoling Eddie into joining you at the ceremony, watching Arthur and John looking a little worse for wear, stumbling into their cars.

Soon enough, you had arrived at the church near Birmingham.

Your prediction was correct, and a small village of people had showed up to line the pews. Eddie walked you down the aisle and you soon stood at the altar with Tommy. The stained glass windows above you casted pretty tinted shapes across Tommy’s bruised knuckles, the knuckles you were careful not to press down on as you held each other’s hands, standing in front of the priest.

You felt the stares of the spectators burn into your side as the priest talked, and you gulped, trying to focus on the small red line marring Tommy’s otherwise perfect face.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The priest's voice thundered through the church, and you were convinced even the mice scurrying in the nooks and crannies of the building were gaping at you. Your ceremonies in London had focused more on the fulfillment of traditions, and your parents had not expected shows of affection considering your circumstances. You tensed a little, unsure of what to do.

Tommy leaned toward you, his face inches away from your mouth, his head shielding yours from the crowd.

“We won’t if you don’t want to.” He spoke softly.

You looked into his eyes.

“I think I could handle it.”

Hesitant at first, the two of you leaned toward each other, pressing your lips together gently. You could feel the coloured light from the windows kiss your face through your closed eyes, bathing you in warmth as Tommy wrapped his arm around the small of your back, his eyelashes brushing against your cheek. Your heart leapt and you worried he could feel it beat against him as he held you close to his chest.

For a moment, it felt like everyone in the room had disappeared, and it was just you, Tommy, and the light streaming through the stained glass windows, holding each other, faces painted blue, red and green.

It didn’t take long for everyone to come back.

You walked through the courtyard, arm around Tommy’s, as numerous Peaky boys ran up to you, fawning over you, congratulating you, trying to take a peek at who their boss’ mysterious new wife was.

Tommy introduced you to his aunt and sister. His aunt held your hand and looked into your eyes, smiling gently and examining your face as though she was searching for any signs of bad luck. Was it hereditary, their piercing gazes? You held back the urge to squirm. You tried to remember all the auspicious points on your face that your mother had told you about. Was it the shape of your ears? Your mouth? Was that mole on the right or left? Did you have any inauspicious features? But of course your mother wouldn’t tell you if you had inauspicious features… His aunt nodded approvingly, tapping him gently on his cheek, him wincing as her palm hit the cut.

You met Tommy’s younger brother, Finn, as he jogged up to the two of you. Four brothers! You looked at Ada, concerned for her sanity.

“Welcome to the family, (Y/N)-” Tommy’s palm landed on his face, pushing him aside. You watched as Finn’s face crumpled underneath Tommy’s hand, stumbling back with a flick of his wrist.

“That’s enough of that, fuck off.” Tommy said, marching on past with you in tow.

“You are so lucky I’d never treat you like that.” Eddie laughed, whispering into your ear as he walked alongside you.

“Don’t get any ideas.” You whispered.

“I’d never.”

“You’ve had crueler moments.”

“When?” He gasped, feigning hurt.

“How many years have I been alive now?’

An alarming number of children swarmed around you in hordes at your feet, all somehow belonging to John.

You and Eddie squinted at him in a mixture of horror and amazement. Where’d he get the stamina? Was he running a secret orphanage? Should you throw up or applaud him? You and Eddie immediately turned your heads as John caught you looking, suddenly taking an extraordinary interest in the sky.

“I think we best be going now, (Y/N).” Tommy mumbled into your ear, and you nodded, walking toward the car with him, Eddie limping beside you, his left leg weighed down by one of John’s kids who latched onto his shin, taking a particular liking to him.

Tommy helped you into the car, and you reached through the open window, holding out your pinky toward your brother.

“Promise you’ll write?”

Eddie wrapped his finger around yours.

“Until my arm falls off, then my other, then I’ll learn to write with my legs, and when those fall off, I’ll get a secretary, and when their arms fall off-”

“Ed, I’m gonna have to leave some time in the next hour.” You smiled at each other. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. Take good care of her, Shelby. Hire a tour guide.” Eddie said, pointing at Tommy, eliciting a slightly confused nod from him. Eddie leaned into the car, taking the cigarette Tommy was smoking. “We’re brothers now. Sharing is caring.”

The car rumbled to a start, and you pulled away, your pinkies slipping out of each other’s as you watched Eddie and the crowd outside the church grow smaller. You saw him sigh, tucking his hand into his pocket and waving at you before sitting down on the church lawn next to John’s son, ruffling his hair as he smoked Tommy’s cigarette. You kept looking until they were just dots in the distance.

You glanced over at Tommy and smiled at him. Your husband, driving you home. You put your head down on the door, allowing your face to peek out of the window. You felt the cool air on your cheeks and you closed your eyes, sighing. Having two weddings was tiring. You let the gentle wind and the bump of the car as it navigated the long, winding roads lull you to sleep.

Tommy looked over, smirking a little at your sleeping face. You looked peaceful, the slight knit that occupied your eyebrows during the weddings disappearing. Beautiful and terribly unaware of it. But he couldn’t let you sleep there, it wouldn’t be proper for his new wife to get her head knocked off by an oncoming tree so soon after your wedding.

He pulled you towards him, letting you slump against his shoulder as he steered. He felt the weight of your head leaning against him, your soft exhales against his neck. It felt nice.

[sodamnradd]

Hermione stumbled into her office, wine bottle clutched in her fist and the image of Malfoy French-kissing another witch seared into her mind.

Untucking his chair, she dropped onto the leather seat and did a spin.

His desk was so much tidier than hers. Two eagle feather quills in a black marble cup, an ornate bottle of ink, and a stack of blank personalized parchment for summoning interns to do his bidding.

She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t like you,” she said to nobody, planting the Merlot on the table then reaching for a quill. “I don’t care if you snog other witches. Or tell them they look ravishing in blue.”

She opened a drawer. “Juuuulie. From HR.” She feigned a gagging noise, opening another drawer where she found a ticket stub beside a jar of bonbons. She stuffed a handful in her mouth. Talking with her mouth full, “Definitely don’t care you took her home.”

Raised the ticket stub to her eyes, letters blurry.

Macbeth.

The play they attended together. Three months ago.

“Draco.” She sniffled, suddenly emotional. “Why would you save this?”

She thumbed her scarlet gown, satin with a slit at the leg. “I didn’t wear this for you.” That he hadn’t called her ravishing didn’t matter.

“You like someone else,” she slurred miserably.

Popping the top of the ink jar and dipping her quill, she scribbled:

I’m happy for you, Drac—Malfoy

SO happy. Wouldn’t know anyone happier than me. HERMIONE.

I know it’s hard to tell it’s Hermione. I drink wine.

You know ?why

Because.

I am. Over. You

Goodbye.

Pleased with herself for this momentous article of closure, she put his stationary neatly away, tucked the wine under her arm, and went home.

Monday morning, Malfoy’s vacant chair, swiveled in the opposite direction, niggled a foggy memory in her mind.

Had she been here Saturday night?

No, she shook her head. Even if she had been, why would she have occupied Malfoy’s desk?

Only when he showed up, whistling a jolly tune, did she recall the witch he’d taken home from the Ministry mixer.

Julie. From HR.

Her gaze fell back to his desk.

She shot up to her feet. “Don’t!”

“What on Earth?” His eyes went wide, righting the ornate jar of ink—its contents, having dried over the weekend, now stained the wood.

Hermione leaped over, intent on destroying the letter before he read it.

But Malfoy picked it up first. Edges wine-stained, parts of the parchment pierced-through from pressing the quill too hard.

She covered her eyes with her palm, wishing to disintegrate on the spot. “I can’t believe you’re reading that.”

“You’re over me?” He looked astonished. “When-when were you under me?”

“I was drunk. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

Malfoy blinked a few times, bewildered, then devastated. “You were into me?”

“Please don’t do this.” She retreated, throat burning. “Julie from HR, right? What does it matter how I feel?”

“Feel?”

“Felt. I said felt.”

“You said feel.” His expression changed, how it always did when facing a challenge. She loved that expression. It got things done. Solved problems. Won.

But wasn’t sure how she felt about it fixated on her.

Before she could ask what he was doing, he’d stormed forward, and then he was kissing her.

Bruising and possessive.

Taking and taking.

All she could do was kiss him back.

A hand gripping her waist, tender fingers cupping her jaw. Her name whispered across a jagged exhale. “You. You’re all I’ve thought about for months. If I’d known sooner—”

“But Julie—”

“Will receive my sincerest apologies because there is no way I’m letting you slip through my fingers.”

(610 words, cross-posted from twitter, inspired by this ross/rachel scene from friends)

[mamasturn]

want this, want you.

pairing: austin inspired male oc x fem oc

warning: fluuuuff. friends to lovers.

requested by: @sunshinetoday1 <3 i know we had discussed some changes but hopefully it still is satisfactory

“I got this for you.” Her eyes were fixated on his as she gently retrieved the carefully wrapped box from her hands. Those baby blues were gentle and spoke to her in a language she’d yet to understand. She heard but hadn’t comprehended.

Her fingers danced along the neatly tied ribbon at the heart of the gift box. She felt his lingering stare on her as she carefully peeled back the flaps. A chill went down her spine.

A small gasp came from her and on her lips formed a soft smile. Inside the box was a collection of her favorite Shakespeare plays—Hamlet, A Midnight Summer Dream, Macbeth, and Romeo and Juliet. All in limited addition printing. Each book had a letter written on the inside of the crisp cover. For my favorite bookworm.

She placed the book on a solid surface ahead of her and moved to pull him into her arms. His warm hands cupped her waist and his fingertips danced along her waistline. Her body reacted to his touch in a way she wasn’t used to.

The scent of her perfume tickled his senses in an enjoyable way. Her fingers scratching at the nape of his neck made his stomach turn beautifully. He wanted to hold her forever.

“I appreciate it so much. I’m going to add them to my collection.” From the age of fifteen, she’d collected books, specially Shakespearean work. And being the supportive friend he was, he fueled her reading addiction every time he had the opportunity. Reading brought her comfort at her good times and her bad times.

There were days where they’d browse book stores to celebrate her graduations, job promotions, and new opportunities. On other days, he’d sit by her bedside and recite poems as her tears soaked her pillow when the going got too tough. He’d seen her through it all and their love of reading was the thing that brought them together as children, and he was determined to ensure that it kept them together as adults. He prayed one day they’d write their own story to tell.

“Of course,” he cleared his throat and peeled his arms from around her. Still, however, his fingers danced along her forearm as he let it slide from his grip. “I’ll see you later for the movie, right? My place at 7?”

She nodded with a smile. “See you then.”

Love and Basketball was one of their favorite films. During the school season, he always made an effort to have at least one movie night with her a month, and Love and Basketball was always on the top of the list.

It reminded him a lot of their relationship—growing close because of a mutual love of something they’re passionate about.

Her back was against his chest as they lay comfortably on the couch, her favorite sherpa blanket covering their bodies. She giggled at a scene and mindlessly began to play with his hand, the one wrapped around her bare waist. She thought nothing of his hand placement, until his fingertips drew small circles along her waist, dragging down to her hip, where her sweatpants sat lowly.

She shifted uncomfortably. Not because she didn’t like it, but it was different. He hadn’t touched her like that, not until now. His hand placement grew more scandalous, moving from her hip to her thigh. His large palm pressed against the flesh, fingers dangerously close to her most intimate parts. With one squeeze, a soft breath fell from her lips.

This caught his attention, and his eyes met hers. “You okay?” She nodded wordlessly. He maintained eye contact while his hands massaged her body gently. He watched her squirm. A feeling of satisfaction swirled within him. It was him making her feel like this. The first man to touch her, even if it was innocent, and her body was leaning more into it.

He hummed and turned his attention back to the movie. A good seven uninterrupted minutes passed. He’d stopped caressing her, but it was the only thing on her mind. She was confused at how such a simple touch from a man who she thought was just a friend, could leave her flustered. Heart pounding, palms sweating, and thighs clenching. She was confused but wanted to explore it.

So, she slowly moved her hand to rest on his knee. He jumped at the touch. From his knee to his lower thighs, from his lower thigh to his upper thigh, caressing gently. He swallowed loudly.

“Bell,” he muttered her nickname lowly. A smile graced her lips. “Please, don’t.” Her movements halted but her hand placement remained the same.

“What’s wrong?” Her tone was teasing. The audacity of her, he thought. To try and beat him at his own game, the one he’d mastered over the years. She turned in his arms so she’d face him. “Isn’t this what you wanted?“

He raised an eyebrow.

“The touches. The glances. Sentimental gestures. The closeness.” She closed the gap between them. The movie was long forgotten and was nothing more but background noise in the heated movie of them. She watched as his blue eyes flickered from her lips back to her eyes.

“Kiss me…” she whispered. She’d moved so close that his warm breath was fanning her upper lip. “Please.”

His lips brushed against hers just barely. A whimper fell from her lips and she tugged on his shirt to pull him closer.

The kiss was slow and gentle. No rushing, no flailing arms, no tempting touches. Their mouths moved in sync and their hearts thumped as one. Heavy breaths and smacking lips echoed throughout his quaint living room.

Her arms hesitantly wrapped around his neck, pulling his body toward hers. She leaned back against the headrest, ignoring the discomfort it brought as she settled into the new position.

Above her he was, one hand against the armrest and another on her waist. The kiss hadn’t broken since it started. It was an expression of his love, one that she gladly returned.

“I want you,” she whispered against his lips. That was enough to make him pull away and look into her eyes.

“What?”

“I want you,” she repeated softly. “I want this, I want you…only if you’ll have me.”

A blush crept up his neck and to his cheeks as he nodded softly. He pressed another kiss onto the smooth skin of her neck, slowly moving lower. “I’ll always want you.”

[yaehao]

prayers answered - js

summary: in which by the time you realize your feelings, it’s too late

genre: highschool!au, fluff fluff!, also angst :(, love at first sight lol, mutual pining hehe, slow burn? raaaa

pairing: jake sim x reader (ft. park sunghoon!)

word count: 6149

warnings: joking/metaphorical violence, some cussing, you’ll probably be as frustrated as sunghoon while reading this LMAO

note: hey lol i haven’t written something this long in a hotttttt minute hehe and, like with all my other one shots, i wrote this in class LMAO specifically in my ap english literature class instead of reading macbeth like we’re supposed to >:0 but anyways, i’m not completely sure if i like this or not but it’s fine :’)

He showed up in your class like an answer to a prayer you weren't even aware you were reciting.

On the first Monday morning back from winter break, where a fresh dewfall coated the grass outside lovingly, a cacophony of excited voices surrounded your head, but the only thing you could hear was the deterioration of chalk against the chalkboard, watching as particles fell off the white stick and dropped to the floor. His hand pulls away from the board, and he turns around, moving out of the way to reveal his name.

He smiles.

You’d never known what love at first sight felt like until that exact moment.

“My name is Jake Sim.”

⊱ ────────── ⊰

Jake Sim.

The name sticks in your head for the rest of the day and follows you around, haunting you like a ghost.

It follows you when you leave your classroom to go to lunch. It follows you when school ends and you stay in the library to finish homework with Sunghoon. It follows you when Sunghoon says his goodbye and gives you a hug before heading home. It follows you when, while placing your notebooks in your backpack, you hear the faint sound of a guitar and a voice you swear was handcrafted by Apollo and placed in your hands by Pandora. It follows you when you follow the sounds to the music room. Peeking in. Hands that were once writing on a chalkboard strumming the strings of the guitar ever so effortlessly. 

He looks up at the sound of your footsteps outside the door. His hand clamps down over the strings, mouth shut, eyes afraid.

“You scared me, holy shit,” He chuckles nervously, and you spill apologies from your lips. He laughs at that, and you can’t tell if you find that or his musical talent more beautiful.

He motions for you to step in, inviting you to sit on the floor in front of him and listen to him play.

He strums a few random strings on his guitar before picking up conversation with you once more.

“I thought you were a teacher,” He laughs. “When I toured the school, they told me that no one really comes by the music room.”

“Yeah, no one really uses the room. That’s why I was curious as to who was in here.”

He shook his head, beginning to play a tune on the strings. “It’s a shame. You guys have a really good set of instruments.”

You shrugged. “They’re old. Haven’t been replaced in a few years now.”

He continues playing on the guitar as you watch him, and you genuinely believe that you could sit there for hours on end just admiring the way his hair falls in front of his face as he glances between the guitar’s neck and body, the way his fingers dance across the strings, the way his eyebrows furrow when he tries to remember which chords to play next and-

“So what were you doing here so late?”

“Ah, I was just studying in the library with my friend, his name is Sunghoon.”

Surprises have never been your cup of tea. However, the moment Jake’s eyes lit up at the name that left your mouth, you decide that maybe you could appreciate them sometimes.

“Sunghoon! Like, Park Sunghoon? You know him too?”

Your eyes widen and you can feel your stomach do a flip, although you can’t pinpoint exactly why. Well, you can, because you know exactly what a mutual friend entails, but you wouldn’t dare admit it out loud.

“Wait, are you Yn?”

Your stomach does another flip as you nod.

“Yeah, Sunghoon tells me all about you all the time! We were best friends when we were kids, but then I moved away to Australia for a bit. I’m back here now, though, for my last semester of highschool, but then I think I’m going back to Brisbane for college. But wow, I didn’t think I’d meet you like this!”

Jake Sim. Best friends with your best friend.

At first, you can’t exactly decide whether or not you like the idea. However, the thought of Jake Sim joining your daily hangouts with Sunghoon makes your heart skip a beat. He’d sit next to you during your library study sessions. He’d go with you and Sunghoon to the ice rink on Saturdays to hang out and then get dinner after. He’d go with you to help pick out a gift for Sunghoon’s birthday that year and-

“Yn?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts with a call of your name and you hadn’t even realized how much you were thinking about him. Wait, thinking about him? You’d only just met him and-

“Yn? You’re spacing out.” He waves his hand in front of your face and you snap out of your thoughts completely.

“Huh? Oh- sorry. I was just… surprised that you knew who I was and that you’re friends with Hoon.” You stutter out some sorry excuse and hope that he can’t tell how bad at making things up you are.

Jake smiles at you before standing up and moving to place the guitar back in its case before putting it back where he got it from. You follow suit, standing up as well and slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

“Do you usually walk home? Bus? Car?” He asks while not even looking in your direction.

You shrug although he can’t see it. “I just walk, my house is fairly close to the school.”

“Oh, perfect!” He throws his backpack on and turns to face you. “The sun is almost setting so come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Jake Sim walks you home on the first day of meeting him.

The thought just about makes your brain spontaneously combust.

⊱ ────────── ⊰

Sunghoon looks at you with a semi-disgusted, mostly confused look on his face as he watches you hum to yourself happily while shoving forkfuls of noodles into your mouth at lunch the next day. He doesn’t think he’s seen you this happy since your sophomore year crush asked you out to homecoming those years ago, which was promptly followed by him ghosting you the night of the dance and Sunghoon having to pick up the pieces as usual.

Every time you get like this, he’s afraid that the only way everything can go is downhill.

Not that he minds having to be there for you, after all that’s what friends are for. He just hates seeing you have a kicked-puppy look in the first place when he swears you looked like you won the lottery just a few days prior. He contemplates how he’s supposed to approach you this time. Maybe just straight up ask what’s got you so happy? But how would he do it without sounding condescending? Maybe he could just wait for you to be the one to tell him what was happening. 

However, he didn’t need to think much longer. All his questions were answered when he saw a familiar figure walking toward the table out of the corner of his eye and take a seat right next to him.

The way your eyes lit up were unmissable. Well, to him at least. And he knew exactly what had gotten you so charged up.

Jake puts an arm around Sunghoon, greeting him with a sarcastic “Aww, saved a seat just for me!” Even though it was only you and him sitting at the table with every other space around empty. He situates himself on the bench and places his lunch on the table before turning to greet you with his signature smile. You smile back at him, a little too sweetly for Sunghoon’s liking, and return his greetings in a tone Sunghoon doesn’t think he’s ever heard from you before.

Sunghoon looks at you, who’s too busy looking at Jake. Then he looks at Jake. Then back at you.

“You two know each other?”

You pipe up while Jake is taking a bite of his sandwich,”Oh- we met yesterday after our study session! I found him in the music room and we just started talking!”

Jake chimes in. “Yeah, I didn’t realize at first that it was Yn until she brought up that she had just gotten done hanging out with you, and then I put two and two together.” He snickers a bit. “Because, you know, you literally don’t hang out with anyone else.”

You laugh at that and Sunghoon lets a small grin spread on his lips as he lightly punches Jake’s shoulder at his comment. For a moment, he thinks to himself that maybe the three of you hanging out won’t be as bad as he thinks it will be.

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

While Sunghoon is almost never on his phone during class, he texts you. He texts you a lot, and it’s almost too much to keep up with. You think he’s typed more words in that one sitting to you than you’ve ever heard him speak for the entire time you’ve known him.

hoonie ^-^: you look in l-word

hoonie ^-^: are you in l-word

hoonie ^-^: why are my best friends in l-word with each other

hoonie ^-^: yn that’s so weird please don’t tell me you’re in l-word with jake

hoonie ^-^: did you actually meet him for the first time yesterday

hoonie ^-^: like yeah i know he transferred in yesterday but you seem too infatuated already

hoonie ^-^: yn answer ur phone

me: I AM NOT IN L-WORD WITH JAKE

hoonie ^-^: are you sure?

hoonie ^-^: you look like it

hoonie ^-^: it’s not worth it yn

hoonie ^-^: he’s going back to brisbane after we graduate

me: yeah, he told me

hoonie ^-^: so why even bother?

me: why can’t you just let me form a new friendship with him?

me: he’s seems like a super cool person, and don’t you think it’s tiring that we only hang out with each other? 

me: should get to know him too, he’ll be my friend as much as he is yours!

hoonie ^-^: YOU ARE IN L-WORD

me: I AM NOT IN L-WORD

hoonie ^-^: YN’S IN L-WORD

me: I AM GOING TO THROW MY TEXTBOOK AT YOUR HEAD.

Your giggle in the fairly quiet classroom catches Jake’s attention, and eyes trail toward you. He watches as you try to hold in your laughter, stealing glances at Sunghoon, then turning back to your phone. He feels something bloom in his chest. A feeling that he despises deeply, and one that he understands as soon as he experiences it.

He knows he shouldn’t feel whatever this is. He’d just met you yesterday, all he knows about you is your name and that you’re best friends with his best friend. And yet, he wants to know what you and Sunghoon are talking about. What could his best friend be saying to you that’s making you giggle in the middle of class. What could be so much more important than your teacher’s lecture that you’re paying absolutely zero attention to him, but instead texting Sunghoon under everyone’s noses.

Jake is jealous.

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

The end of school feels like it couldn’t come any faster as you spent most of the rest of class stealing glances at Jake, sending winks whenever the two of you made eye contact. Sunghoon watches you, just wondering which one of you will break first.

It’s the first time Jake joins you and Sunghoon for an after-school-library-study-session and you couldn’t be any more excited. The thought of Jake joining your usually mundane study sessions sent your brain haywire. You could just imagine how pretty he’d look just sitting across from you, you wondered what his thinking face looked like, if he would run his hands through his hair every time he was stuck on a problem, or chew on the inside of his cheek while he was writing down a physics equation. You were definitely more excited than you should’ve been.

Sunghoon is the first to toss his bag on the table you two usually take. It was always empty whenever you went there, as if the table was made just for you and everyone knew it too. Or maybe because it was tucked away in the back corner, secluded from just about everyone else, and no one even knew it existed.

Nonetheless, you liked your table. Loved it even. It was you and Sunghoon’s own little world. The only difference, now, was that Jake was officially being welcomed into this world.

Now, as you were situating yourself at the table, the more you thought about it, the more terrifying the idea was. You’d said it yourself, that for the longest time, it was only you and Sunghoon. Though, that was the thing. It was only you and Sunghoon.

That's all Sunghoon thought he needed, too. After Jake moved away as they were kids, he'd always been alone, only becoming your friend by chance when, on one fateful day freshman year, you went to your usual library table tucked away in a remote back corner to do some studying alone, only to find the boy already sitting there. However, there was no way you'd just give up your table to some random classmate, so across from him you sat. It'd been just you and him ever since, and you didn't think you'd have any intentions of it being any other way.

The thought of ever letting another person into your friend group was exhausting. It was a hassle to be vulnerable with new people. It was tiring to have to introduce new parts of yourself to any outsiders, whereas Sunghoon already knew what you needed, what you liked, when you were uncomfortable, when you were happy even though your face wouldn't show it. 

However, now years later at that same table, you found Jake standing over you, leaning forward to look at your physics textbook as he helped you through that night's homework problems. 

And you accepted it with open arms.

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

The first time Jake asks you to hang out outside of school is a month after you meet him. 

It was a casual ask. Just if you wanted to get food with him after school on the Friday of that week. You agree, of course, because how could you have not? However, you also were extremely confused as to whether or not it was to be just the two of you, or if your third counterpart was coming along with you. So, cautiously, you had to ask,”Did you already ask if Sunghoon is free?”

Jake lies straight through his teeth. “Yeah, and he’s not, he has something to do with his sister that night.”

Sunghoon didn’t have anything to do with his sister that night. In fact, he didn’t have anything to do that night. However, he did have a text from Jake in his notifications that read “I think I’m gonna ask Yn if she can hang out on Friday. Just the two of us.”

To which he replied, "Why won’t you just tell her you like her already?”

To which Jake replied, ”I don’t like her, wdym?”

And Jake could feel Sunghoon’s eye roll all the way from his house.

If there was anything Sunghoon knew better than how to do a triple axel, it was understanding his best friends. Sunghoon never talked much in the first place, however he was extremely observant, and you and Jake both constantly agreed that it was one of his most annoyingly impressive traits. And, of course, with his extremely impressive observation skills came the ability to read the both of you like an open book.

He knew exactly how you felt about each other.

Now it was just a game of getting you two together before it was too late.

You fake sadness about Sunghoon not being able to join you two, but it was all a farce. You’re beyond excited to finally hang out with Jake outside of school, with it being just the two of you.

However, you wouldn’t dare ask if he was considering it a date or not. No, that would be too far. He was definitely only thinking of it as a hangout. The only reason it’s only you two is because Sunghoon’s busy and definitely not because Jake deliberately told Sunghoon that he wanted to hang out with you and you alone.

Yeah, that was it.

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

Friday comes as a slap in the face that morning while you rush to plan what to wear when you hang out with Jake after school. Would jeans be too casual? A skirt would probably be a bit too much, though. Or maybe a loud tone from your phone signaling you had to leave the house in five minutes if you didn’t want to be late to class would be the best option to tend to at the moment. You sigh and throw something in your bag before putting your shoes on and stepping out of the house.

You learn quickly that Jake doesn't care about what you're wearing. He thinks you look cute in whatever you wear, whether it be your pajamas during movie nights at Sunghoon's house or your everyday school uniform.

You also learn quickly how aware you are of Jake. Of the fact that he doesn't eat with his elbows on the table. Of the fact that he covers his mouth when he chews. Of the fact that he's a lot sweeter when it's just you two alone than he is when Sunghoon's around too. 

There's something about him that just feels different today. You don't know if he's giddy about how good the sushi is, or if it's just because he's eating with you, but you decide that it's just because of the food. Nonetheless, the way he looks at you now is noticeably different than the way he looks at Sunghoon. He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life.

And you like it this way. You like him- Wait. 

You like him.

You like him.

You've been aware of these feelings all this time, though, haven't you?

No, there’s no way you can like him, you only met him a month ago. And vice versa, there’s no way he could like you only after hanging out with you for a month, right? 

That’s all this is supposed to be.

That’s right, this isn’t a date or anything.

It’s just you two hanging out as friends.

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

It rains next week.

And of course, you were completely unaware of the forecast until you had finished your weekend college app session at your favorite local cafe. It was a fair amount of distance to walk home, one that you usually wouldn’t mind running through the rain during, but you had your laptop and notebooks with you. No way were you going to risk getting them wet. Instead, you opted to call-

Jake.

No, Sunghoon. Calling Jake at a time like this would most likely inconvenience him.

What if he wasn’t even available to bring you an umbrella? That would be embarrassing then that you had even asked.

You opted to call Sunghoon and ask him if he could come to you with an umbrella so you could walk home without getting your belongings wet. He begrudgingly obliged, obviously, because how could he say no to his favorite person in the whole world? 

You thanked him profusely before hanging up, and waited patiently inside the cafe.

Sunghoon calls Jake.

Sunghoon calls Jake and tells him which cafe you’re at, and that you need him to bring an umbrella because you forgot one. He tells Jake to use some excuse that he ended up having to do something for his mom so he asked Jake to bring you the umbrella instead.

Of course Jake wants to do it. He accepts the request almost instantly and almost a bit too excitedly.

He grabs his umbrella from its spot near his front door and rushes out of his house. The pace of his speed walking could probably be considered running at that point, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t mind the looks from others on the sidewalk wondering why he’s in such a hurry.

He arrives at the cafe, smooths down his shirt, and sends you a single text.

I’m outside :)

When you receive the text, your head shoots up toward the front of the cafe and you can see him beyond the glass door. You throw your tote bag on your shoulder and walk over to him, Jake moving out of the way as you open the door.

“I could’ve sworn I called Sunghoon.”

“You did. But he ended up having to do something for his mom I’m pretty sure, so he called me instead.”

You smile sweetly at him, although you feel like you could melt on the spot. “Jake, you really didn't have to-”

“No, it’s okay, trust me.” He interrupts. “I wanted to.”

You lock your arm with his as you walk home and try to convince yourself it’s to stay as close as possible so the umbrella covers you both completely. However, if that was the only reason, then your heart shouldn’t have been threatening to burst out of your chest the entire walk home. 

You shouldn’t have been wishing that he would wrap his jacket around you even though you weren’t even that cold. You shouldn’t have been wishing that he would kiss you under the umbrella before he left you at your house and continued the rest of his walk home. You shouldn’t have been wishing that you could relive the moment with him all over again.

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

It’s always seemed like Jake’s favorite activities included asking thought-provoking questions about the secrets of the universe. You were always learning new things from him, and although most of it was never about practical skills like how to properly clean paint stains off carpet or how to pump gas in a car, it was interesting nonetheless.

His questions were never ones that you could give answers to, of course, because he not only already knew the answer to the question, but was also going to explain it . He just wanted to know if you were interested in his explanation in the first place.

The first time he asked you a question was when he was already done with his homework for the day and resorted to watching you work on your own assignments.

“Do you ever think how crazy it is that we’ve only discovered 1% of our oceans? There’s gotta be some batshit crazy creatures at the bottom of the ocean that can withstand those water pressures, and I hope I’m alive by the time they discover them.”

You stopped writing altogether, your head slowly tilting up to look at Jake with a slightly concerned look on your face.

“Think about it, Yn!” He leaned forward and pulled his chair closer toward the table. “We’ve already discovered crazy things like the giant spider crab and pistol shrimp. Who’s to say SCP-3000 isn’t real? Something of that size could definitely withstand deep sea pressures, and since we can’t explore that deep in the ocean, how would we know if it exists or not?”

A smile grew on your face the longer he went on his tangent. He was cute when he talked about things that really interested him.

Now, months later, he was still asking those same questions. Ones that were interesting, and frankly usually a little bit crazy and unrealistic. Their general topic, though, was about the universe, the ocean, space and time.

However, absolutely nothing could’ve prepared you for today’s question.

“Do you think it’s better to risk a friendship for a relationship or push romantic feelings aside for someone and not risk the friendship?”

You almost choke on your coffee bun, the suddenness of the question surprising you. He doesn't look phased by his own question, nor your reaction to it. You try to swallow your snack as fast as you can so you can produce a proper answer to his question.

“I’m not sure. On one hand, most relationships start out as a friendship anyways, don’t they? And I think if you have feelings for someone and they reciprocate then sure, date them. But there’s the other side of ‘what if we break up?’ The friendship will probably never go back to how it was before. I guess it’s just all a big conflict of whether the friendship is too important to risk or not.”

Although you’re not looking at him, you can feel his eyes on you as he asks his next question.

“What about you? Personally? Would you risk a friendship for a relationship?”

“Honestly, Jake, I’m not completely sure.”

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

College acceptances come in a flash. 

Letter after letter arrives to let you know whether or not you are welcome into your school of choice.

You and Sunghoon are overjoyed that you, of course, were accepted into the same university together. It wasn’t a surprise, really, as you both were more than qualified to attend, but it was still a moment to be celebrated.

When Jake opens his acceptance letters, it almost feels like he resents them. He really didn’t. He was grateful that he was accepted into those schools, yet-

“I wish I could just go to university with you guys.”

You give Jake a sympathetic look, you’d never seen him look so devastated until this moment.

“I wish you could come with us, too.”

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

Sunghoon almost never gets frustrated with you. Aside from his annoyingly impressive talent of being able to read you like an open book, his less annoying but still equally impressive gift of his patience with you was one that you were grateful for. You’d almost never seen him get upset before, let alone angry. It just wasn’t who he was.

Today, however, he looks like he wants to hit you over the head with his chemistry textbook.

And that’s a big textbook.

“Why can’t you just admit that you like him?”

“Because I don’t, Hoon, and I don’t know why you’re being so pushy about it.”

“Because it’s so obvious!” He raises his voice a bit, and you recoil from the unfamiliar volume. “And it’s frustrating because he literally has feelings for you too.”

You look at Sunghoon, the idea of Jake actually feeling the same way for you that you do for him crossing your mind. Sure, there might’ve been hints of it, but who were you to say that he wasn’t doing things just to be friendly? It just wasn’t a chance you didn’t want to take. A chance that you were sure you shouldn’t even think about taking.

“I really don’t think he does.”

“Yn, I’m going to hit you over the head with this book.” He rolls his eyes at you. “And then you know what’ll happen after? Jake will come running asking if you’re okay and I’m gonna sit here wanting to vomit in my mouth while he coddles you.”

“You’re being ridiculous, Hoon. It’s not like that. And besides, you said it yourself, he’s leaving after this semester so it won’t be worth it, isn’t he?” The thought clouds your mind, and your next words come out sounding a bit more hopeless than you expected them to. “What would be the use in trying to pursue him if he’s just gonna leave in the end?”

Sunghoon stares at you, mouth agape.

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

“I’m just protecting myself, Sunghoon. I don’t want to have this fling with him just for him to leave the whole country and I’ll never get to see him again. Or if I do get to see him again it’s just brief moments during winter or summer at best.”

Sunghoon takes a deep breath before running his hands through his hair and sitting back into his seat. “Fine, I guess so. I just don’t understand why you can’t accept that you both like each other and just enjoy it while it lasts. But it’s your decision after all, not mine.”

He stands up from his seat and goes to sit with Jake, leaving you to your own conflicting thoughts.

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

Graduation day was the most fulfilling and unfulfilling event of your life all at the same time. You were beyond ecstatic to finally move on to the next chapter of your life with your best friend, but there was just something that told you that you hadn’t done everything you wanted to do in high school. It probably wasn’t anything big though. After all, a lot of people wish they did more in their high school years. 

You’d gotten the best grades you could, did all the extracurriculars you wanted to, had time to hang out with your best friends after school, and were accepted into your dream university.

So why did graduation day feel so bittersweet?

Oh, right.

When they called his name to walk the stage, it hit you. It didn’t even hit you, it beat you up. Terribly. And it left a stirring feeling in your stomach. It wasn’t butterflies, but it definitely made you want to hurl. Or cry. Whichever came first.

It seemed as if crying would come first, your eyes welling up a bit as you watched him receive his diploma, his academic awards for everything he’d accomplished in such a short period of time of being at the school. But you also found yourself cheering for him. Louder than everyone else.

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

You spent your first week of summer and last week with Jake with a collection of bittersweet moments. Every sweet memory made was constantly overrun with the thoughts of him leaving soon.

It was already the night before he was supposed to leave; you and him sitting under the moon and stars on the bank of the Han River.

His questions to you, still, were never ending, although this time there was no talk about the depths of the ocean or the vastness of space. That would be too boring, he supposes.

“Are you gonna miss me while I’m gone?”

You scoff. His question shouldn’t even be a question. But you suppose he has always already known the answers to his questions after all.

“Of course I am. It’s gonna be weird not having you around every day.”

“You’ll still be able to call and text me, though.”

“You know it’s not the same.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I know.”

A silence falls between the two of you before he poses his next question.

“Why did you never tell me you loved me?”

There’s a lump in your throat that you can’t quite get rid of in order to speak properly. And when he notices your silence, he continues.

“You knew I liked you. Hoon told you multiple times, didn’t he? And frankly, I thought I was making it pretty obvious.” 

“And why did you never tell me you loved me?”

Jake pauses. “I was scared.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “So was I.”

You were going to leave it at that. Just accept that you hadn’t told each other you loved each other just because you were scared. However, if this was the last day you were going to have with him, you decided that it would be best to just leave it all on the table.

“I was scared that you didn’t feel the same way about me at the time. And by the time I knew that you did feel the same way about me, I thought it’d be better to just not say anything about it because the time we’d spend together would be so short before you’d have to leave. And I was right. It still feels like I only met you yesterday and now, here we are. You’re already leaving tomorrow and I get to go back to my daily life of being stuck with Hoon every day.”

You giggle a bit at that. “I just... I don’t know if I made the right call or not. Maybe if we’d told each other earlier then those few months we spent together would’ve been happier, more exciting. But then leaving each other would’ve been more heartbreaking, wouldn’t it?”

You turn your head toward him and smile. “But we’ll never know now, will we?”

He smiles back at you. You recognize the look in his eyes. It’s the look he gives you when it’s just you and him. When Sunghoon isn’t around to bother the both of you. When the rest of the world feels like it doesn’t exist. When the moment is yours and yours alone. He looks at you with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. Like this is the last time he’ll ever see you.

“Yn?”

“Hm?”

He decides that he has one last question to ask you, one that you were expecting the least, even after everything he’s already asked you.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod.

You swear your heart stops when he uses a hand to cup your face as he leans in. His lips mold perfectly against yours, he tastes like rain and sunsets, he holds onto you like if he pulls away, he’ll lose everything he’s ever loved, and for a moment, you wish you had said no just so that you wouldn’t have to want this again as bad as you know you will.

Nonetheless, you allow him to kiss you. You decide that if this is your last night with him, that you’d leave everything on the table. Months of harboring feelings and constant fear melted down into a single moment. 

You allow yourself to be consumed by the force that is Jake Sim.

 ⊱ ────────── ⊰

The sun just barely peeks over the horizon, the leaves on the trees just starting to turn brown as you made your way to your 9 am lecture. It was your first day of university, to which just an hour earlier you were complaining to Sunghoon that you didn’t have your first lecture together. Jake was long gone, although he was sure to text you that morning making sure you had a good first day of classes.

His name still haunted you, honestly, but this time with more lingering feelings than you’d like to admit.

As soon as you sat down in your lecture hall, a text popped up on your phone, one that you immediately went to check.

hoonie ^-^: hey!

hoonie ^-^: after your first lecture come meet me in the rec center

hoonie ^-^: i wanna get food here

me: sure!

You tucked it away in your pocket afterward, the lecture feeling like it couldn’t go by any slower. Though, as soon as the lecture was over, you made your way to the rec center, excited to get some food after such a long class.

You pulled the handle of the tall glass door to step in, examining the large hall for a moment before finally seeing  Sunghoon sitting at a table near the back motioning for you to join him.

And the boy sitting next to him didn’t go unnoticed either.

It felt like the world stopped at the very moment you locked eyes with him. His dark brown hair had grown out a bit more since the last few months you’d seen him, but he had the same smile that dragged you in all those months ago.

You ran.

You didn’t care about all the eyes that laid on you as you ran at full speed toward the table, Jake standing up and opening his arms to embrace you.

And embrace you, he did. Loud giggles left both of your lips. There’s nowhere in the world that felt more like home than in his arms, and you didn’t think you could feel anymore grateful for the familiarity.

After a few moments of holding each other, you finally pulled away, looking up at him with eyes that asked “What are you doing here?”

He read you, and explained,”I convinced my parents to let me stay for university. I didn’t wanna tell you I was applying here in case I didn’t make it or they wanted me to come home, but luckily Sunghoon helped convince them that I would be better off here than anywhere else.”

“I missed you so much.” You whispered as you buried your face back into his chest.

“I missed you too, Yn.” He kissed the top of your head and held you even tighter if that was possible. Feelings of warmth bloomed in your chest, butterflies filling your stomach and threatening to spill.

You had Jake in your arms once again.

And this time, you wouldn’t let him go.