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#one day i will finish a series where i use every line from a song ... eventually
hazeism · 2 months
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Forgive me if this has been asked before. Where do you get the inspiration for naming your works? They always have such charming titles
Hi, I don't think anyone's ever asked--probably not? But even if so, I am not that busy of a guy :) always happy to answer my friend. (I say this despite this answer coming sooo late.)
Most of my works are titled for lines from songs, though sometimes excerpts from literature or poetry (in these cases I usually cite in the author's note!)... Some of these will be more relevant than others.
Sometimes I write something just because I heard a line that makes me go NEEEED TO TITLE SOMETHING ABOUT (ins pairing/character) WITH THAT lol but sometimes I just need a title for an already existing piece and hit shuffle lol.
If there are any specific titles you want me to explain the origin of do let me know :)
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slayingfiction · 1 year
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How I push through writing when I don't feel like writing.
Here are some of the techniques that I use to help me write more often or more consistantly when my laziness/depression/anxiety starts to take over.
I watch TV. I don't do it with the purpose of zoning out though. I watch something popular and well-liked such as the LOR or Harry Potter to get new ideas on how I can develop my story and apply their in-depth world-building ideas to help develop mine. Without plagarizing of course!!!!
Zoning out and daydreaming. As I have mentionned before, daydreaming is a huge part of my story outlining and world-building process. I'll stand in the shower, or take a walk and think about how my charcaters would act/react/behave in situations, mundane or not. Doing this gives me a better sense of my characters, and sometimes gives me ideas for scenes I use later on.
Work on writing related projects. These work well at keeping me distracted while still being productive on my writing goals. Example, I have one story I am working now, I made a new language (alphabet and numbers included) to include as a cool and fun component for the book. So, at times when I don't wan't to write, I continue creating the dictionary (very fun, 8/10 would recommend). Also, for the same book, my characters don't work off the Georigian calendar and 24 hour clock, so I've been working at creating a new calendar (harder than it seems, 2.5/10 dont recommend). These are side projects that help my story, without having to write.
Reading. You saw this one coming, I know. Reading is great, especially when you're editing, your writing style will unconsciously change to be more similar the author you were just reading. Also, most importantly, I'll be reading and think, "this story is really good, but you know what story I like even better? Mine." then change to writing.
This one is my biggest life saver!! I learnt about a year ago that sometimes I'll get bored of writing a story, and have difficulty keeping on track. That's why I finished my first book in 2016 and just started editing the first draft last week. The solution for me was to work on multiple projects at once, because it was much harder to be bored of multiple stories. I stick to 2, but will sometimes add a third. This is easy for me, because I have a list of over a dozen series I want to write. Don't abandon one project for another, use them as a distraction/ motivation for each other, so you're always furthering at least one project. I've never heard someone say, "oh no, i accidentally worked on this other writing project for three months instead of the other writing project I was doing. Dammit." No, we're just happy we have written something. Be sure to have well outlined story lines before starting, don't just start writing randomly or you'll reach a point where you don't know where to go from there.
Author/ writer projects. Maybe this is building a following, or community to share your projects and engage with. Tumblr, Insta, Reddit, whatever it is. My hope this year is to start up my website to offer publishing services (editing, graphic design, short writing courses) and build a following as a writer. (See what I did there? Never a bad time to self-promote ;) ) Having your own projects like this will help you in the future when you're going to try to publish and sell your books!
Talk with friends and a writing community. Never underestimate the passion that will burn inside you when talking about your story, or when others are talking about theirs. Surrounding yourself with a positive writing community can be the best thing for you as a writer.
Write or read (your story) every day. I'm not going to be one of those people that say you need to write 1000 words a day, that's a lot. But maybe try for 100? That could maybe only take 5 minutes, and at the end of the year that's still over 36 thousand words of a novel. Or just read your story, and I've always found it helped me get in the creative mood.
Make a playlist of songs that remind you of your characters, your story, or just puts you in the mood to write. Then play it ONLY when you're having trouble writing. Playing it while writing will not help, you'll get annoyed with the songs.
Just really can't do it today? That's okay, take a break. You deserve it. There's always tomorrow.
Does anyone else have ways they push themselves to keep writing? Let us know in the comments!
Happy Writing!
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dirtysvthoughts · 1 year
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𝓟 𝓡 𝓘 𝓥 𝓐 𝓣 𝓔 𝓓 𝓐 𝓝 𝓒 𝓔 𝓡 - CHAPTER ONE
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pairing: gang leader! soonyoung x stripper! reader
word count: 2.3k
general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, mentions of violence, m*rder, and blood, stripper things, a steamy lap dance, reader gets fully nude, big dick! soonyoung, pet names (pretty girl, baby, etc.), reader falls for soonyoung, sex w/o condom (remember if they can’t wrap it, protect yourself please), kinda a slow burn for the start of the series!
playlist songs: everything you want - pap chanel, streets - doja cat, naughty girl - beyoncé
notes: ITS FINALLY HERE BABESSSS!! i’m so excited to share this series with y’all and i hope you enjoy it! <3 every chapter will include up to 3 songs inspired by the events of the story!
soonyoung sits alone in a dark corner of his faction’s warehouse, only a few spotlights illuminating their large meeting space - deep in thought. tonight, it was just him and his five most trusted guys, finishing what might’ve been their most difficult job yet.
soonyoung is the leader of one of the most infamous gangs in the region, known for their ruthless ways. they’ve murdered, gambled, brawled with other rival gangs. many of their incidents have ended in extremely close calls, with someone either near death or two steps away from handcuffs. but they didn’t care. this was they way of life they chose. anyone that dared come in their way, they eliminated them without hesitation.
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“double check the duffel bags, and make sure not one bill is missing," soonyoung says as he gets up, going to wash away the rest of the blood remnants from his hand. their job tonight was taking out another gang’s higher ups, they and they put up a hell of a fight. soonyoung genuinely wondered if the close calls he got in that knife fight were even worth they amount of money they were promised. “i swear to god if he fucks up my income again, that’s his ass,” he grumbles, hoping that this would be over with faster than he thought.
when he finishes, he approaches the table where the rest of his comrades were. “well?” he says, watching one of the guys as he puts the last stack of paper through the money counter, the familiar sound of cash rustling through the machine.
“that’s it - all $40,000 from tonight’s job, boss,” one of the guys say, wiping his forehead, hissing when he brushes against a slight gash. soonyoung smiles for probably the first time all day, relieved that finally, he could get to do what he wanted to do.
“alright boys, gather up the bags and shut all of this shit down - i got the perfect place for us to spend some of this cash,” he presses a button opening a garage door as he walks out first, heading to a black suv.
——
“club illusion?” another one of his guys say as they pull into the club’s parking lot, viewing the neon purple and green signs. “not to question you soonyoung, but why here?”
he rolls his eyes and scoffs i’m the passenger seat, surprised at how not everyone was connecting the dots. “word is, they have the best and prettiest dancers here, and they might have some dealers here, heard they have the strongest shit too..” soonyoung says as he jumps out the car, fixing his jacket as he walks forward, everyone else exiting the car packing around him for protection.
the group walks past everyone in the long line, complaints and shouting starting to get louder the further they reached the entrance. but before soonyoung can sneakily bypass to get inside, one of the bodyguards stops them.
“yo, i’m pretty sure you see this line - what makes your think that you’re better than everyone else?” soonyoung smirks as he shows the patches on his jacket, signifying his affiliation and ranking. the guard’s eyes widen for a second, but he slips back into his demeanor.
“listen,” he says in a low tone for only him and the guard to hear, “i’ve had a long day, and i would really like to relax.. and you don’t wanna see me not relaxed,” the guard glances at the other men, meeting their menacing stares, and looks back at soonyoung.
“drop your weapons in the bin,” the guard says. soonyoung places his hand on the guard shoulders, smirking at him as he walks past. “wise choice,” he says as he drops his knife in the bin, the others following suites, chuckling as they walk past, some of them flicking him off.
—-
blue stage lights flood the club’s main floor as people sit on the tables and lounges, dancers in skimpy outfits, twirling on the poles and shaking their asses to the heavy bass. cash scatters some of the stage platforms, dancers teasing their audience by sexily covering themselves with it. the air smells hazy, a tinge of weed lingering in the atmosphere.
“forget i questioned you boss - we definitely needed to come here tonight,” he smiles, nodding his head at a dancer he made eye contact with. “i’m not leaving until i fucked one of these girls and have them screaming my name,” he says starting to drift away from the others.
“you guys are free to go where you want,” soonyoung says, eyeing his surroundings quickly. “if you run into any body, let me know and i’ll handle it.”
as the guys separate, soonyoung walks forward, observing the sights around him. as his mind takes it all in, the dj drops a beat and comes back on the mic.
“what’s up, club illusion!” the dj yells and the crowd responds appropriately. “we got some great dancers in the building and they got bills to pay, so show ‘em some love!” the audience cheers and more people continue to toss their cash on the stages.
“now coming to the main stage, one of club illusion’s sexiest, seductive dancers - welcome to the main stage, ms. sageeeeee!!” the crowd screams wildly as the lights dim and they focus on the main stage, soonyoung’s eyes immediately taking what was in front of him.
the music starts, the familiar “oohing” of the streets silhouette remix playing with through the speakers.
and that’s when he sees you.
you confidently strut on stage, your black, glossy 8 inch pleasers striding one in front of the other, your strappy black bodysuit practically exposing all of your backside. once you reach the pole, you roll your head to the right and slide your hand up your body.
“put your head on my shoul-” the music switches and you go into a side spin, the crowd continuing to go crazy as you transition and hold a pose upside down.
as the song progresses and come to end, soonyoung can’t your eyes off you for one second. he’s enamored by you - your movement, your presence, not to mention how sexy you looked in that barely-there bodysuit. you strike a final pose on the pole as the music fades. the audience continues to scream, bills covering the front of the stage.
after holding for a few seconds, you transition off the pole and gather your money, one of the bodyguards helping you down the steps when you’ve finished.
and that’s when you notice him.
from across the room, he looked like just another man in the club, but close up, you couldn’t deny how hot you felt when your eyes met each other’s. his all-black fit from his distressed jeans to his oversized jacket, his height, his black hair - he looked too good to be true.
as you begin to part ways, you wave and wink at him, hoping you caught his attention. he smirks at you, letting him know that the message was received. you blush inwardly as you turn back around, praying that he would at least rent out a section on the main floor, if not a v.i.p. room.
——
as soon enter the dressing rooms backstage, you’re met with showering compliments from some of the other dancers. you thank as many as you can as you reach your spot, freshening up in case you get called back again.
as you scroll through your social media after a few minutes, one of the bottle girls comes in to the room and approaches you. “sage!” she calls you, your head snapping up to meet her eyes. “oh hey, min! what’s up?” you say putting your phone down.
“there’s some guy that keeps asking for you in one of the vip rooms, he looks kinda cute too,” she smiles nudging at your shoulder. “you better hop on that before someone else does,” she walks away heading back with her empty tray. you pause and think before you finally make a decision.
“wait, min - which room is it?”
“should be room 3!” min winks at you before going back to the main floor.
you’re never nervous about vip room experiences. so why now? why do you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest?
you’re embarrassed at your conflicting emotions. never once has a customer gotten you flustered. but then again, your customers don’t usually have an air of mystery and attraction hanging over them.
you breath out a huge, but silent sigh and pull yourself together. no matter how attractive the man downstairs was, he wasn’t gonna start making your falter.
you push the curtains away as you enter the dimly lit room, silently thanking the gods that min’s guess was right. there he was, sitting on the couch across from the pole platform. his eyes were on his phone, but now they’re completely focused on you. even closer, he still had you writhing. how could one human being look so insanely hot?
“so, you’re the man from the main floor,” you twirled your hair strands, smiling at him, walking toward him with your left arm crossed against your chest. “i heard you requested me by name. no one’s ever really done that before here,” you now are in front of him, getting dangerously closer to each other’s bodies.
“well they should more often, baby,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair. “you’re too fucking phenomenal not to be called out by name.”
if you weren’t flustered earlier, you were definitely flustered now, desperately making sure it wasn’t showing on your face.
“speaking of names, you now know mine,” you sit next to and face him on the couch, crossing your legs. “but i don’t know yours.”
“soonyoung.”
“soonyoung,” you repeat, smiling to yourself. “i like that.”
“well soonyoung,” you say getting up from the couch, standing in front of him, slotting a leg between his. “i don’t normally give my customers choices, but i like you. do you wanna see me on the pole again? or would you rather you and i get a little closer?” you say as his hands begin to touch your body.
“i think you know where i wanna go with you,” he caresses your cheek, “i wanna see you dance on me, for me, pretty girl.”
—-—
your back faces his chest as you grind into him, his hands simultaneously roaming your thighs and playing with the straps of your bodysuit. beyoncé’s naughty girl plays through the speakers, your waist rolling in rhythm to the music.
you push your ass further on him, making sure you can feel all of him as he gets harder under your touch. “you know you can take it off right?” you say as you turn your neck toward his face. “in fact, why don’t you take it off for me?” you bite your lip hard as his hands reach further up, fondling your breasts.
after some time, he does as you ask, slowly taking off your bodysuit. you help him out as the material goes down your legs, and once it’s fully off, you toss to the front of the room.
“you’re so gorgeous,” he groans as he traces your folds, and it takes everything in you not to moan out loud. instead you muster a sigh as you turn around to have your body face front.
“if i told you i wanted to fuck you, right here in this position, how much would it cost me?” he places his hand near his jeans, hoping you were feeling the same way he did.
you pause to think about your options. “mmm, $500 sounds good to me.”
without hesitation, he pulls out a large wad of cash, thumbing through the bills and giving you a little bit more than $500. you swear he read your mind because before you can even ask, he opens his mouth.
“think of it as a nice tip,” he winks at you as you stuff the bills in your heels.
you slowly bring him in a kiss. he separates from you first, but you quickly bring him back in, kissing him with more fever. he unbuttons his jeans, zipping them down as his boxers come into view. you think you’re ready, but you’re still visibly stunned when he pulls his dick out. his thick length and veins on full display.
“damn, soonyoung,” you say biting your lip, nearly drooling. “you’ve definitely proved you have big dick energy.”
he laughs as he starts to pump himself for you, more pre cum beginning to gather at his tip. once he’s finished, he beckons you with his finger.
“make me feel good, my pretty girl,” he says as you sink down on him, both of you groaning out at the same time.
“sh-shit, soonyoung, fuck!” you hiss, holding onto his broad shoulders. “you’re so big and i feel so full,” you feel like you might cum already with his he was sheathed inside you.
when he finally starts moving, you feel like you’re seeing stars. the way he pounds into you, you can feel the coil in your stomach get tighter. after a few more minutes of him penetrating and you moaning soonyoung’s name, you finally feel it.
“o-oh, soonyoung, ‘m gettin’ close, shit, ‘m cl-clo, ah!” you nearly scream as you come all over his lower half, part of your juices on his black denim.
“well, uh,” you giggle, looking down at him. “that was something,” you brush your hair away from your face, finally looking in his direction. he smiles back at you, putting his dick back in his pants.
you pull each other for one last kiss, wanting to feel his touch just one more time.
“something tells me that it might be a minute before i see you again.”
“you never know, pretty girl. yeah i have busy job, but i can definitely make the time for you.”
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parkerslatte · 1 year
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Songbird || TWELVE
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Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mention of blood
Word Count: 3.7k
Part Summary: The band records songs for Aurora and Y/N attends a party with Daisy.
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Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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•••
TRACK TWELVE;
MANEATER
...
DAISY JONES: We must’ve written eight or nine songs the first couple weeks. I would have an idea, and then he’d flesh it out, or he would come up with a riff, and I’d come up with a melody line.
BILLY DUNNE: When you’re making an album, any album, it’s an intimate thing. I mean, it has to be.
DAISY JONES: Which isn’t to say we didn’t fight.
BILLY DUNNE: Oh we were fighting constantly.
WARREN ROJAS: For a month it was like that. We’d be in the studio, you know, recording all the arrangements, and they’d be who knows where doing god knows what.
EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Everyday they’d come in with something new.
KAREN SIRKO: I mean great fucking songs.
Y/N L/N: Even though I didn’t want to be in the band, I can’t fault the songs, they were great, amazing even.
EDDIE ROUNDTREE: And every night, they’d come in giggling like two little schoolgirls. 
INTERVIEWER: Did it concern you?
GRAHAM DUNNE: Not really. Not yet, anyway. I mean…like whatever they were doing…it was working.
INTERVIEWER: How was Y/N adjusting to being in a band?
KAREN SIRKO: She adjusted well, it was only the arguments that was a concern.
“I did everything you told me to do, Billy!” Y/N yelled into the microphone. 
“But it’s not good enough,” Billy says from the booth, “Try again.”
Y/N sighed, and began to play again but as soon as she started playing, Billy cut her off again.
“In what possible way was that wrong,” Y/N exclaimed, “I played one note.”
“It was the wrong note.” Billy says, trying to remain calm.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “You need to get your hearing checked.”
Billy turns to Teddy, “It was the right note, Billy.”
A smirk appeared on Y/N’s face at Billy’s annoyed expression. 
“Again.” Billy ordered. 
Once again as soon as Y/N began to play Billy interrupted her. 
“Right,” Y/N says, “This is bullshit.”
Y/N lifted the guitar and placed it back on its stand. With one final glare at Billy, she left the room, joining the rest of the band. 
“You finished?” Karen questioned. 
“Nope,” Y/N said, flopping down on the couch next to Eddie, “Apparently Billy needs to get his hearing checked because everything I’m doing is wrong.”
Billy came storming out of the booth, his eyes focussed on Y/N, “Get back in the studio now, Y/N, you’re wasting time.”
“Why?” Y/N questioned, “So you can stop me every two seconds, I’d say you’re the one who’s wasting time.”
“Billy, just give her a break,” Karen says, “She’s been in the studio all day.”
“And so have the rest of us.” Billy says.
“Yeah, but we haven’t been yelled at for the past two hours.” Eddie muttered. 
Billy sent a glare Eddie’s way before his gaze landed back on Y/N, “Y/N, get back in the studio.”
KAREN SIRKO: Billy didn’t know when to stop when he argued with Y/N. 
WARREN ROJAS: Y/N never let her emotions show much, but I could tell that she was getting to her breaking point.
CAMILA DUNNE: I knew how Billy was treating Y/N and I wasn’t standing for it. She was my best friend and he was treating her awfully. I knew they didn’t like each other but that was no excuse.
BILLY DUNNE: Y/N got on my last nerve. She always wanted things her way. 
Y/N L/N: Billy was a controlling prick.
DAISY JONES: I knew that Y/N didn’t want to be in the band, and I didn’t understand why she was in the band. Her talent shouldn’t have been pushed to the side like it was. 
The band sat around in the studio waiting for Billy and Y/N to come back with their new song. Y/N sat with her guitar, carelessly strumming a tune she had come up with, humming along to lyrics she had written months ago that was meant to be for her album. 
“I like that melody.” Graham says. 
“Thanks,” Y/N smiled, “I was working on it for my album.”
Graham began to listen to the song as Y/N continued to strum her guitar. As he began to play her own guitar, working with what Y/N had already created, she turned to him and smiled. One by one each member of the band began to play along with Y/N and Graham. It didn’t sound fantastic but to Y/N it sounded like the most amazing thing in the world. 
“Sing the song.” Graham says.
“I wrote the song as a duet,” Y/N says, “Eddie, would you be able to sing the other part.”
“Me?” Eddie questioned.
Y/N smiled and reached down to her bag and pulled out her notebook, turning to the correct page and held it out to Eddie.
“The green ink is what you’re meant to sing. You’ll pick up the melody.”
Everyone began to play what they were before, slowly getting a good balance. Y/N began to sing everything melted away, the only thing she concentrated on was the music. Y/N signalled that Eddie should start singing. As he began he was out on timing which caused Y/N to smile but he soon got into a rhythm. 
Their voices complimented each other perfectly. Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Every member of the band got into the rhythm of the song, fully enjoying themselves for not being told what to do, they all got to freely play what they wanted. 
The door to the studio opened and in walked Billy and Daisy. Daisy slowed down her walk as she listened to the song, meanwhile Billy let out an annoyed sigh. Y/N was the first to notice and she stopped singing and playing, everyone followed her actions. 
“What’s going on here?” Billy questioned.
“Y/N wrote a song and we were playing around with it,” Graham answered, “It’s a great song.”
“It’s not going on the album.” Billy says.
“Come on,” Warren says, “It’s a great fucking song.”
“It’s not going on the album.” Billy repeated. 
“I think it should go on the album.” Daisy intervened.
“Thank you Daisy.” Y/N says and Billy rolls his eyes. 
“It’s not going on the album,” Billy says, “And that’s final.”
“Okay,” Daisy challenged, “Then I want Y/N to sing The River with me.”
The room fell silent. 
“It’s one or the other Billy,” Daisy says, “Her song goes on the album or she sings The River with me.”
Y/N L/N: Originally I never wanted my song to go on the album, but the look on Billy’s face when Daisy gave him that ultimatum was what made me want to have my song on the album. 
DAISY JONES: We recorded Y/N’s song that day. 
EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Y/N’s song was my favourite on the album, still is. 
WARREN ROJAS: I think that was the most laid back recording we did. Y/N took the reins on it and let us fuck around with it. It was a good day.
“Camila!” Y/N says, entering the house through the front door.
“Y/N,” Camila says, coming around the corner, “I didn’t know you were coming around today.”
“It wasn’t originally,” Y/N admitted, “But figured that since Billy isn’t here, I would come around. I haven’t seen Julia in ages. How are you by the way? We haven’t had the chance to sit and talk in a while.”
“I’ve been okay,” Camila says, sitting down on the couch next to Y/N, “I’ve been busy with Julia, she’s getting to the point where I can’t leave her unattended for too long or they’ll be another broken glass on the floor.”
“Billy hasn’t helped at all?” Y/N questioned.
“He has barely been here,” Camila says, an edge to her voice, “And when he is here, he’s always on the phone with Daisy.”
“I would say that I would have a talk with him, but we all know how that would go, so…”
Camila laughed, “It’s fine, you don’t need to talk to him, I’ll try to when he gets home, whenever that will be.”
“Hey, if you ever need help with anything, you can call me and I’ll answer and be here as quick as I can.” Y/N says, talking ahold of Camila’s hand, “If you need any help with Julia or even a break from her, I’ll babysit her and you can go and take as many photos until you literally can’t anymore.”
“Oh,” Camila says, getting to her feet, “That reminds me.”
Camila walked to the other side of the room and opened a drawer, “I forgot I developed these photos ages ago and I thought you would want them.”
Walking back over to Y/N, Camila handed her three photos and Y/N’s heart sank. The photos were of her and Eddie from the Christmas her first single was released. The first photo was just after Y/N handed Eddie his gift. The two were looking intently into each other’s eyes, a look of adoration on their faces. 
Flipping to the next photo, Y/N’s heart sank even more when she saw it. In the photo, she was staring at the camera with a smile while Eddie looked at her. The look on his face couldn’t have been mistaken for anything other than love. 
The final photo ripped Y/N’s heart out and threw it on the ground. The photo was taken when neither of them were aware. The two were cuddled up on the couch. Y/N’s arms were wrapped around Eddie’s torso while his arm was wrapped around her waist and the other held onto her arm. Her head rested on his chest while his head was dipped, his lips brushing her forehead. 
“When did you take this photo?” Y/N questioned.
“The same day,” Camila says, “It was a cute photo, I took it when you both weren’t looking.”
“Stalker.” Y/N jokes. 
Y/N placed the photos back in a stack and handed them back to Camila.
“Don’t you want them?” Camila questioned, furrowing her eyebrows. 
“I just-I just don’t think I need them.” Y/N says.
Camila saw right through Y/N’s lie, “What else is going on? Because months ago, you would have been excited to have these.”
Y/N sighed, “Nothing’s going on-”
“Is anything going on between you and Eddie?” Camila questioned.
“What?” Y/N says, “No, there’s nothing going on.”
“Are you sure because the two of you have been acting like strangers for months now.” Camila points out.
Y/N shrugged, “We just grew apart. I was busy working on my non-existent album and he was working with the band, we just haven’t had the time to talk and hang out.” Y/N hated how easily the lie rolled off her tongue. 
“Are you sure nothing’s going on?” Camila asks.
“I’m sure,” Y/N says, “There is nothing going on between me and Eddie.”
Y/N L/N: All of these lies were eating me alive. Of course there was something going on, but at the time I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was, I had never felt that way before so it was all new for me.
The next day, Y/N was sitting in the studio, bored out of her mind. They were meant to be recording vocals for Aurora but Daisy never showed up. With her notebook in hand, Y/N was just colouring in the page out of pure boredom. They had all been sitting there for hours. 
“Did you try her room?” Teddy asked.
“Yeah, couple times,” Billy says, “I’m worried something’s happened.”
“She’s probably just off somewhere.” Teddy suggested.
“No,, no this is her record as much as it’s mine. Something’s not right,” Billy says, “I got to go.”
“I’ll go with you.” Teddy offered.
“No, it’s worse if the principal comes.”
“Well, take Warren.” Teddy says.
“I can handle it.” Billy says, walking out of the studio.
Y/N looks to where he had disappeared before throwing her notebook down and followed after him. Just as he started up his car, Y/N climbed into the passenger seat. 
“What are you doing Y/N?” Billy sighed.
“Look, we don’t like each other, cool,” Y/N says, “But I care about Daisy too, so let’s just go.”
Surprisingly, Billy didn’t argue. He simply nodded and pulled away from the studio. 
As the two arrived at the hotel, music was blaring out and shouting was heard for every direction. Y/N and Billy slowly walked closer to the pool where they found Daisy. 
“Y/N,” Billy says, “Can you give us a minute?”
“What? Why? I want to see-”
“Y/N, just go.” Billy says. 
Sighing, Y/N sat down on a chair, watching the interaction between Daisy and Billy. Y/N had never been one to pry into people’s relationships but she didn’t quite understand what was going on between Daisy and Billy. One moment, they were acting like the best friends in the world and then the next they were acting like they detested each other. Y/N couldn’t work it out. 
As Daisy climbed out of the pool, Y/N watched as the glass dug into her feet, causing them to bleed. Y/N winced, standing to her feet. 
“Say, hi to Camila for me!” Daisy called to Billy as he stormed off. 
“Billy, wait!” Y/N says as he leaves the hotel grounds. Y/N contemplated following him as he was her only way home but she decided against it, opting to check on Daisy. 
“Let me guess,” Daisy says, “You’re here to yell at me as well.”
Y/N says, “No, not at all, unlike Billy I know what a fun time looks like.” Y/N lied, she had been annoyed with how late Daisy was but she wasn’t going to outright be angry about it like Billy was.
Y/N looked down at Daisy’s feet, “Can I clean that up?”
Daisy looked down at her feet and watched as the blood mixed with the water, “I’m fine.” As she tried to walk away, Daisy limped, in obvious pain. 
“Look, I’ll make a promise,” Y/N says, “You let me clean that up and I’ll happily leave you alone to do whatever you want.”
“Why don’t you join me?” Daisy says. 
Y/N sighs, “As long as I can clean that up.”
Daisy rolled her eyes and sat down and Y/N rushed to find a bandage and some alcohol, the latter being much easier to find. After getting some bandages, Y/N went back to Daisy who was miraculously in the same place. 
Bending down, Y/N inspected her foot, luckily there wasn’t any glass embedded into her foot so it would be rather easy to clean up. 
“Okay,” Y/N says, unscrewing the bottle of alcohol, “This will probably sting a little bit.”
Daisy nods before Y/N pours the alcohol onto the cuts. Daisy winced but Y/N continued to wipe away the blood, disinfecting the cuts. As Y/N wrapped her foot in the bandage, Daisy watched her intently. 
“There,” Y/N says, “Just please don’t put your foot in the pool again, I don’t think I can find any more bandages.”
Daisy put her foot down on the floor and looked at Y/N. She didn’t say anything before reaching down and picking up the bottle of alcohol, “No your end of the deal.”
Y/N smirked and took the bottle of alcohol from Daisy and took a long swig. 
***
“Where’s Y/N?” Warren asked as Billy entered the studio alone. 
Billy looked around, like he was surprised that Y/N wasn’t with him, “I think she’s still with Daisy.”
“You think?” Eddie says, “You just left her?”
“Yes Eddie I did,” Billy says, “I had more important things on my mind.”
“Look,” Karen spoke up, already sensing the tension, “She’s probably fine, she’ll either stay with Daisy or she’ll find her own way home, she always does, there’s no point in worrying.”
No one said anything as Billy picked up his guitar case and left swiftly without a word to anyone.
Back at the house, Eddie was finding it difficult to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt fully awake. Every time he tried to get comfortable, it would only turn into the most uncomfortable position only moments later. 
As Eddie closed his eyes for hopefully the final time that night, the phone began to ring in the living room. Due to having the room closest to the living room, Eddie flipped the covers off and got out of bed. As he passed the clock on the wall he took notice of the time. Four in the morning. 
Picking up the phone, Eddie answered it. 
“Hello?” Eddie says.
There was a long pause before there was an answer, “Eddie?”
“Y/N?” Eddie says, “Are you okay?”
“I-I don’t know where I am.” Y/N says. 
“What do you mean?” Eddie questions. 
“I lost Daisy,” Y/N says, her words barely legible, “So I continued to drink without her and this guy gave me some pills and I took them.”
“Y/N, are you okay?” Eddie asked, suddenly fully alert. 
“I’m-I’m fine,” Y/N says, “I went to walk home but I think I took a wrong turn.”
“Can you describe what’s around you?” Eddie questions. 
There was a pause before Y/N answered, “It’s too dark. I don’t think I’m that far away from the hotel.”
“Okay, Y/N, stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.” Eddie says and hangs up the phone. 
Only picking up a jacket before he left the house, Eddie got into the van and pulled out of the driveway. His heart was beating fast as he drove, the only thing he thought about was Y/N. As he neared the hotel, he slowed down and kept an eye out for her. There wasn’t much around at all, simply a road and trees with a few houses scattered down it.
As Eddie drove further down the road, he spotted a payphone box and a person sat down next to it. Immediately Eddie got out of the van and ran the small distance. 
“Y/N.” Eddie says softly. 
Y/N looked up and she smiled, “Eddie…”
Y/N was shivering and goose bumps covered her skin. Pulling off his jacket, Eddie placed it around her and helped her to her feet. 
“I’m sorry.” Y/N says as his arm wrapped around her waist as he helped her to the van.
“For what?” Eddie questioned.
“For dragging you out here in the middle of the night.” Y/N says, clutching onto Eddie. 
“Don’t apologise.” Eddie says, helping her into the van. 
Y/N pulled his jacket tighter around her body as she sat safely in the passenger seat of the car. Eddie got in and began to drive back to the house. Y/N didn’t say anything the entire way there, she simply looked out of the window at the world passing by. She was fully aware of Eddie continuously sneaking glances at her. 
As they arrived back at the house, Eddie tried to help Y/N out of the van but she pushed him away, “I’m fine, Eddie.”
“You sure don’t look fine,” Eddie says, “You don’t normally get this bad, Y/N.”
“Yeah?” Y/N questioned, “Well I have all the reason to be.”
Y/N sniffled, trying to fight back the tears she had been keeping at bay for months. 
“I’ve had everything I’ve ever been working towards taken from me,” Y/N says, “My album was the one thing I’ve always wanted to do and now that opportunity is gone. I never wanted to join the band and now I have and I haven’t been more miserable in my whole life. Billy never lets me have any creative freedom, and everything I do is wrong. I can’t do anything right in his eyes. I am a singer and a songwriter and it’s been taken away from me.  ”
“You have one song on the album.” Eddie says, trying to look at the positives. 
“A song that I wrote for my album.” Y/N says, finally letting the tears fall, “I wrote that song with the idea of you singing it with me. I wrote it for us.”
Eddie didn’t say anything, he didn’t know what to say. Y/N looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. Reaching up, Eddie cupped her cheeks and gently wiped them away. He stepped closer to her, decreasing the distance between them. 
Y/N continued to stand there, not knowing how to react. Her thoughts weren’t clear and she didn’t know what to say. 
Looking down at Y/N, Eddie began to lean forward, his lips inched towards hers like it was a magnetic pull driving them together. Eddie couldn’t help himself, the feeling of Y/N’s lips on his was a feeling he craved, it was as if it were his own personal high and he needed a constant fix. Y/N, noticing this, pushed him away harshly. 
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Y/N whispered.
“I-I-” Eddie cut himself off because he didn’t really have an answer. 
“No, Eddie,” Y/N mumbled, “You’re being mean.”
“I’m not,” Eddie begs, “I’m not, I’m sorry.”
Y/N shook her head, “You are, you don’t do that to someone. You can’t do that to someone. You don’t mess with someone’s feelings like that. Don’t talk to me again.”
With that, Y/N walked back into the house leaving Eddie outside on his own. Eddie remained there in silence for a moment, processing everything. He wished he could rewind time and never did what he did. Angrily, Eddie turned around and punched the wall. Almost immediately he brought his hand to his chest, cradling it. There were cuts on his knuckles and bruises would certainly form, but Eddie didn’t care. 
The pain made him aware of what he did. The pain on the outside reflected the pain he was feeling on the inside. 
EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Everything I did that night, I regretted. I ruined what was left of my friendship with Y/N. I loved her, but I ruined that. And I only made everything more complicated from there.
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unlikelyjapan · 10 months
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s2e9 rewatch notes (part 1)
Omelette - I'm hoping I can pull through and finish this rewatch in its entirety before I leave on vacation. While the analysis is fun, the actual act of watching the show feels very masochistic vs. last season, which I must have watched a dozen times.
The-not-sexy-sex-scene: It's interesting that the credits start to roll on a black backdrop before we even get the blue-hued (read: frozen) sex scene, and its set to a song that was written about a death/funeral (The Day the World Went Away by NIN).
As a bit of context, Trent Reznor's grandmother (who raised him after his parents flaked out) died right before the release of The Fragile, and this song was thought to be written as a reflection of her funeral. I know they didn't include any lyrics in the scene (that would be too on-the-nose for a director that delights in subterfuge), but in no world is this a happy or lustful track - it's frail, wistful, and entirely about something (someone) that has been lost.
There's some laughter in there, if you squint, but it's mostly intense and needy glances replete with swinging chain for the feral audiences sake. The stark/open "little death" eyes at the end (as Claire is presumably sleeping ) punctuate the scene UNTIL....
.....Sydney is buttoning up her coat (i.e. getting frigging dressed) in the very next beat, frustration in her voice as she notices the stains on her whites (God, is this a sheets parallel?) .
This is hot on the trail of her getting undressed (revealing her 3 of swords tattoo) at the end of s2e7 as Carmy and Claire make out in the split montage, which is the only reason I'm thankful this was released as a binge series this year.
There's not much more to elaborate on here that hasn't been discussed in this brilliant analysis by @belassima- the classic "getting dressed after a sexual encounter" trope turned on its head. We don't see Claire again until friends & family, and this is wholly on purpose. I'm suing Christopher Storer for damages after the series finale.
Syd and her Dad have such an enviable synergy - but you can tell she's over leaning on him as her "person". He's checking in on her stomach (foreshadowing the dumpster scene) and acts as her lone hype man. "I don't know how you do what you do, but I am excited".
Emmanuel - "I never want you to feel like you have to make everything the thing."
a.k.a - "You know, there are other fish in the sea."
Sydney - "Why can't we put everything we have into everything that we can"
a.k.a - "I want to funnel everything into catching this one - this is a borrowed quote from my soulmate business partner."
Emmanuel - "Baby, if that's true, then why put so much pressure on this one?"
a.k.a - "What is the reason/what is so particularly special about this fresh hell you've been subjecting yourself to?"
Sydney - "Because.....I don't know if I could do another one"
Ok - more nuance is required here. According to Syd hivemind, the answers range from "Syd's been burned in a relationship/partnership before", "Syd also has Lupus", or purely "Syd has failed too many times and is scared". We still don't know enough about her past, but I tend to look at this through a strictly fearful/nihilistic prism - she feels like she can't take any more heartache (along with the physical and financial ramifications) from another crash-and-burn endeavor.
But Emmanuel's worried eyes tell a bigger story after she delivers this line, so.....I dunno! I hope S3 covers this understanding gap in a big way.
Strange Currencies playing overhead of the city, taking us to the ally where Carmy is having THE panic attack. I transcribed every image he cycles through while the song plays backwards:
*Sex scene of Carmy staring down expressionless at Claire in bed, Claire leaning down to kiss Carmy.
*An old picture of Claire staring straight ahead, a Sweet 16 birthday picture of her sticking out her tongue in a tiara, one of Carmy's drawing of her with glasses from class. Cut to a flash of Claires face with a wry smile in sepia lighting, followed by another one that is similar but almost taunting. These sepia images get creepier as the panic attack escalates, but also more focused.
*Another drawing of Claire smiling with glasses with Mikey's voice echoing in the background "the motherfucking glasses came off!"
*Another old picture of Claire smiling without glasses, followed by another.
*Mikey and Richie and another "the motherfucking glasses came off!" soundbite.
*Drawing of Claire in glasses again for a brief flash, followed by Carmy and Claires first kiss at The Bear.
*"Carm, this is a good thing" with Stevie, as Carmy crumples to the ground in the ally.
*Claire up-close in sepia sort of half-wistful/half-scruitinizing Carmy
*Donna screaming "fuck you" and Mikey braying at the dinner table, Lee reacting, a dish smashing.
*Sepia Claire turning and smiling to the camera.
*More braying and fuck-you's from Mikey and Lee
*Just Claire's eyes in Sepia-mode, staring across at him with a joker-esque smile as the braying and swearing and fighting continues.
*Donna screaming "are you motherfuckers okay!?"
*The drawings of The Bear in Mikey's hands, him looking up affectionately at Carmy.
*Donna slapping Carmy - Carmy looks up in the ally as if something has slapped him out of it.
Donna and Mikey summon Sydney after this - Mikey with the acknowledgment of his dream (The Bear) and an ounce of brutality from Donna (as in: how dare you care about me, Carmen). These two figures, engines of chaos and trauma, steer him towards Sydney's first words to him.
"Hi, Hello..."
*Strange currencies - "These words* You were the most excellent CDC at the most excellent restaurant in the entire United States of America. What are you doing here I guess?" *you will be mine. You will be mine all the time*
I....I don't understand how the panic attack is ambiguous for people off of this site. I don't understand why it's not noted in reviews and think pieces. I don't understand why otherwise smart people put forth simplistic narratives like "Carmen just needs to make peace with his family" or "he fumbled Claire, his shot at happiness." I just don't understand.
Sydney passing Verdana "Now fool might be my middle name" as she stares down at the sign saying they will be permanently closed May 1st - along with the instrumentals, a clock ticks in the background. A flash of Nilah's face is interspersed, smiling back at her. "But I'd be foolish not to say..."
If this is an ellipse to a "Carmy loves Syd, Syd is fully gay" moment in later seasons, I'll be pretty disappointed since that would be a too-easy way to shut things down.
On first viewing, I took it as "Syd sees herself in Nilah" - she aspires to be her, Nilah gave her forewarning about partnerships that aren't official, Nilah was empowered, optimistic, and in control....and Nilah has not succeeded, highlighting Sydney's anxieties about failure at the same time Carmy is cycling through his own debris.
But the song lyrics are ambiguous, and everything is on purpose, and god damn I hate what fan theories have done to my mind.
Anyone catch that on the F&F menu listed on the whiteboard (as Natalie enters to sit with Carmy) the course of Seven Fishes is followed by the Bolognese? The feast was followed by the meal he prepared for Claire being served at friends and family? Yeah, I did.
The mother father painting - I feel like everyone was riffing on this during the earlier part of the week. The absolution of the mother due to the absent father. Syd being the mother (present) and Carmy being the father (absent). Donna (alive) vs. Mikey (dead). The idea of family haunting the dining room. The idea that this painting in the restaurant supplants what is trying to be built (found family). I suppose the parallels are endless here.
It's also just a truly shitty painting, a gauche reminder of Carmy's absence/inattentiveness.
"What exactly is a ServSafe certificate"?
Carmy was most definitely deflecting, he's a well-venerated chef. There are moments of inconsistency in the show that I let slide (giardiniera a la minute? bitch please) but there had to be a reason for this - his fatigue, his guilt, his inattentiveness reaching a breaking point.
Once he says "I'm fine on mom" Natalie sees it all coming to a head.
Sydney stickering her little Coach K vision board as she arrives for her shift. I just realized she doesn't really start paying attention to the book (a dorky 'go get 'em' gift from her Dad) until Carmy ditches her at Kasama. Coach K exists in the leadership void left by Carmy - it seems so sad to watch her pre-game by bejeweling a picture of a middle-aged man, but that sad pseudo-prayer card is the closest thing she's got to a north star right now.
Also, she's been fixated on and extolling the virtues of Coach K to Carmy all season and is met with....complete incuriosity, I guess? He never prods further, even when he sees her making this dinky thing for her station. It's almost like he knows, on a subconscious level, that this guy is supplanting him as Syd's guide.
But it's also her finding her own voice through advanced mentorship, which is great.
Carmy pointing at those aforementioned stains, Syd undressing in front of him, Carmy making plans to dress her again, them mutually deciding to dress in matching clothes until service. I cannot guys, I cannot.
Carmy getting spit-roasted for his deflection from Nat & Syd ("I know you just missed him *eyeroll*" "Do you have a phone these days?") - I feel like he's so under fire/exposed that he doesn't even recognize of the gravitas of the "I need your focus like you need mine" comment at first.
"What's your relationship with your mom like?" This scene has been discussed to death on here, I don't really have any new insights as it relates to Carmy/Syd and their maternal links or timing. I think the part that hasn't been explored much is Carmy's frustration with Nat which is thinly veiled as concern.
We saw in Fishes that Mikey and Carmy (and Donna) blame Nat for provoking bad behavior with her concern and neediness. Carmy says "she's expecting a miracle" like she's the sole sibling that enabled their mother. By way of Donna's disease and (I presume) unwillingness to seek help, the Berzatto kids really only had two options - enable by pacifying, or GTFO.
Mikey could be as atrocious as Donna. Donna is atrocious. Carmy played soothe-sayer and then left at 18. Natalie tries to cultivate some sense of family - the same family Carmy pays homage to via his restaurant, his menu, his girlfriend, Richie, his endless self-flagellation - but is resented for her own wayward attempts, even though they're very explicit expressions of love (sometimes) and longing (always). There's some really gnarly projection happening there that I expect will rear its head more in S3 between the two of them.
Cue Carmy being a douche to New Noise (although I love that little moment where he cock-blocks Connor, the new chef, and Tina smiles to herself a little).
Tina's been working tirelessly alongside Sydney and asks "Carmen, do you even have a phone?" as Syd tells him the contractor for the shelving called him eleventy-thousand times. There is a lot of emasculation happening on his own restaurant floor (formerly The Beef, the temple of gross masculinity) between the trifecta of Syd/Nat/Tina this episode, and it's only ratcheting up the defensiveness - his excuses and deflections fall flat, but he's not listening or learning yet.
Marcus' dessert check, (with Syd and Carmen looking like a panel of matchy-matchy top chef judges on the other side of the table):
Sydney is looking at Carmy with affection as Marcus receives a package from Denmark (whereas Carmen doesn't even react) - it's the second time she's looked at him like that in the conversation (the first being "workshopping the name") but it's been a long while since she's projected admiration his way. She sees how much he's done for Marcus in cultivating the whole customized Copenhagen experience for him, she sees his service, she sees her values humbly and quietly executed by him.
The Michael 😭 followed by the silence and "You can throw down, huh?" - what a perfect moment of TV.
I'm pausing here for tonight before my grammar falls apart (if it hasn't already), I'll unpack the rest tomorrow.
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sixty-silver-wishes · 9 months
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The Repugnant Retrospective: Reading A Series of Unfortunate Events, over ten years later
(Note: For the sake of clarity, "Daniel Handler" will here be used to refer to the author of the books, while "Lemony Snicket" will be used to refer to the narrator character.)
I must have been in fourth or fifth grade the first time I picked up The Bad Beginning, the first book in A Series of Unfortunate Events, which contains thirteen books in all. In those days, I was a big fan of Guardians of Ga'Hoole and Percy Jackson, and read voraciously- to the delight of some of my teachers, and to the chagrin of others, who would prefer I not be reading a book for my own amusement during a lesson on mathematics. All thirteen books were in the school library, which I still look back on with fondness. It was a cozy little place- as libraries often are- that left me with plenty of memories, from going with my friends to the annual Scholastic book fair, to the unshakeable guilt of having to purchase a book on prehistoric animals because I'd checked it out and lost it, only to find it at home after the fact. I think I began reading A Series of Unfortunate Events after I finished the Ga'Hoole series, and although it was nothing like anything I had read before, I was hooked.
The phrase on paper here refers to an explanation of the basic concept of something, as opposed to experiencing it in practice. To witness an idea on paper does not necessarily mean it must be written on paper, as it could be written on the internet, or tapped out in Morse code, or spray-painted on the back of an unsuspecting associate while he waits in an abandoned bounce house for a secret message via carrier pigeon. However, it is true that reading an idea on paper may produce a very different effect than reading it in practice, whether or not paper is involved at all.
On paper, A Series of Unfortunate Events is about three children experiencing miserable things, over and over again, and ultimately culminates in an ending that is left ambiguous- a word which here means that the fates of the main characters are left unclear. When I first read them, I was used to stories involving magic, and enormous battles, and falling in love, mostly clear lines between good and evil, and an ending where there are no more secrets, because everything gets resolved. None of these things are bad to have in a story, of course, but a story does not need to have all- or any- of them to be good. Such is the case with A Series of Unfortunate Events. On paper, the series may not have appealed to me, due to the things I was used to reading at that age. But in practice, I couldn't put them down. I can remember feeling a sense of pride at figuring out the mysteries and understanding the literary references I could glean at my tender age. I can remember laughing uproariously at some parts (especially the Volunteers Fighting Disease song and the antics of Carmelita Spats), as well as feeling a dreadful pit grow in my stomach at others- which, of course, is a feeling that is typically better avoided than not. A pit in your stomach, after all, may mean you have uncovered a devastating secret, or had your heart broken, or have a nasty parasite gnawing at the lining of your digestive organs, and will need to see a doctor to extract it and seal the pit back up. Or, as was my case, it may mean an honest exploration of a truth about the world that you, at your young age, had some idea about, but had been sheltered from, and were finally seeing it laid out in a way that was simple and profound and shattering and enlightening all at once.
All that being said, I couldn't stop reading them, despite the warnings not to read them on the back of every book. The only one I didn't finish was The End, because I had to return it to the library before I could reach the end of The End, although this was not the end of my experiences with A Series of Unfortunate Events, and just a few days ago, I had reached the beginning of The End once again, and finally read The End from beginning to end. As the years went by, I completely forgot some parts of A Series of Unfortunate Events, and others refused to leave my mind. But while I would not experience another word of an Unfortunate Events book for over ten years, A Series of Unfortunate Events was constantly following me in some way or another, like three mysterious initials, or an unblinking pair of eyes in the night, or a particularly pesky neighbor I have had to move across the sea three times to get away from, but still keeps sending me telegrams in code. I was not done with the series, nor was it done with me.
When I was in middle school, through a completely different set of events altogether that would take another long post to chronicle, I decided I wanted to be a writer. I took to keeping notebooks where I wrote down my own stories, and even managed to finish a few. By the time I reached college, I was equipped with a love of history and classic literature, and majored in Creative Writing. I continued to read, and took a course on Arthurian literature- taught by a brilliant scholar whose work, I would find out a few years later, is cited on the Unfortunate Events Wikipedia page. (I also took a miserable course on English grammar that would have made even Aunt Josephine weep, and is better not elaborated on.) But also while in college, I began intensively researching a certain historical figure whose name you may already know. Like the fictional Snicket, I was researching someone whose life was full of mysteries, many of which have still gone unsolved. This person, like all people, made a number of morally ambiguous decisions, although whether or not some of these decisions were made for good reason is up for debate. One could even say that his life could also be summarized as "a series of unfortunate events," despite how prodigious, erudite, and altruistic he was- words which here mean the Soviet composer and pianist Dmitri Dmitriyevich Shostakovich- whose work, I would later learn, Daniel Handler listened to while writing A Series of Unfortunate Events. I became acquainted with, among other authors, the works of Nikolai Gogol, Franz Kafka, Kurt Vonnegut, and J.D. Salinger- whose writing styles echo in both Handler's work and my own. And of course, while I did not pick up on the reference in the books and forgot about it entirely, last year, I had been introduced to a little German flick called The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, which of course, had absolutely no impact on me whatsoever. (If you know anything about me, you will immediately be aware that this is a blatant lie, and that nothing I say should ever be trusted.) I began working at a store that sells Puttanesca sauce and a great variety of horseradish condiments. And all the while, I, like everyone else in the world, was experiencing my own series of unfortunate events, both personal and political.
All that is to say, if I enjoyed A Series of Unfortunate Events as a young child, you can imagine what I thought of it as an adult- older, wiser, and more well-versed in things like classic literature and world politics. Most nights, I listened to the books on audio while drawing- because just as Violet needs to tie her hair up in a ribbon and Klaus needs to polish his glasses to focus on their areas of expertise, I must have something long and often thought-provoking to listen to. As I said, there was a lot I didn't remember about the books- and it wasn't just plot details and characters.
For instance, while I can’t say I remembered it the first time, when I read the first book, it really left an impression on me when Count Olaf slapped Klaus across the face, and how much the book dwelt on it. From a narrative perspective, that slap was a threshold being crossed- a sign that the Baudelaires were no longer in a safe and predictable environment, and were living with someone actively hostile towards them. But from an emotional perspective, it really struck a chord to see Klaus continue to think about it throughout the first book, processing his first encounter with abuse. There was a bittersweetness to watching the orphans grow up and learn self-reliance, and the cynicism and misfortune of the books was well-balanced with witty humor, satirical commentary, and a constant sense of hope- something, of course, that I also appreciate about Shostakovich's works.
A Series of Unfortunate Events has a great deal to say about evil, and the nature of oppression. As a kid, I don't think I realized just how awful Count Olaf was. Of course, I knew he was a terrible villain trying to make these kids miserable in any way he could, but as an adult, I could see that Count Olaf was more than that. He harassed Violet in a borderline sexual manner, just to make her and her siblings feel weak. He delighted in burning books and murdering brilliant people, so there would be less knowledge and nobility in the world. And perhaps most impactfully, we see his rise and fall over the course of the series, as for all his treachery and the pain he brings the orphans, he ultimately finds himself powerless due to his own actions, as well as the inevitable dissolution of his own troupe.
Seeing Olaf's theatre troupe gradually leave him one by one, along with the various schisms that shape the series, brought a distinctly political understanding to A Series of Unfortunate Events that I did not have as a child. It brought to mind real-life tools of oppression and ignorance, and how they are doomed to fail because of their tendencies to devour themselves in their desire to harm and ostracize others. There's an interesting situation with the carnival "freaks," who demonstrate how the oppressed can become oppressors themselves through a desire for power over their situations- and how quickly oppression turns on itself, as Olaf's troupe finds themselves being called "freaks" as they seek to exploit the carnival freaks for their own gain. The audience just wants violence, and it doesn't matter who it's against, as long as they have someone to ridicule. We also see how inaction is just as harmful as active oppression- Mr. Poe is just as responsible for putting the Baudelaires in bad situations as Olaf, and even well-meaning adults like Aunt Josephine, Hector, and Jerome Squalor endanger the orphans because they're too scared or too content in their ignorance to protect them. The colony of islanders put themselves and the entire world at risk because they refuse the apples that would have easily cured them of the fungus they were infected with, too content to follow their leader instead of "rocking the boat." With all the ignorance and malice surrounding them, the orphans instead must learn self-reliance, even with the few allies they do have.
A Series of Unfortunate Events is especially mature when it handles the topic of morality. Characters are often shown to be morally gray, even those who are initially introduced as "good" or "evil." I found Fiona to be an especially fascinating character, as she exemplifies this moral struggle, although I feel the way she's described in the narration unfairly contradicts her character. On one hand, it acknowledges that she makes similar decisions to the Baudelaires as a foil to them- both have had to make morally dubious decisions on account of their siblings- but the narration will repeatedly refer to her as "treacherous" or blame her for "breaking Klaus' heart," although we find out she regretted her actions and, if anything, betrayed Count Olaf more than she did the Baudelaires. But regarding gray areas, Count Olaf, by the end, performs an act of nobility out of love, and the Baudelaires are constantly shown coming to terms with their own moral struggles as they fight to survive and find justice- although as the series progresses, "justice" becomes more and more of an absurd concept as corruption is found everywhere- although justice still persists, and as long as there is evil in the world, there will always be people "noble enough" to fight it. It was especially gratifying to see Justice Strauss and Jerome Squalor come back in book 12 to apologize for their inaction, and to help the Baudelaires against Count Olaf, in a moment that, however brief, challenged the previously-established cynicism of the series and demonstrated that people don't have to stay complacent, and that it's never too late to take action against ignorance.
Handler masterfully presents the plethora of philosophical and harrowing concepts that the series deals with to his young audience through his storytelling, which- like Salinger- sometimes distances itself tangentially to allow the audience to process the heavier moments, relating the Baudelaires' experiences to things the readers may have experienced or read in order to help them understand them. It's an incredibly adult way of delivering a children's story, particularly one that's more mature than most. As I first read the books as a child, and then read them as an adult, I can appreciate this maturity more, although being older than the characters allows me to look at the books from a different perspective. Violet and Klaus, from the beginning to the end of the series, are respectively 14-16 and 12-14, and while as a kid, I admired them and thought they were so brilliant and mature, as an adult, there's a sort of horror in realizing just how young they are. Sunny goes from being an infant to a toddler, but her extreme intelligence and emotional maturity for her age still makes her character more fantastical and less grounded than her siblings at times.
I found the series to hold up remarkably well for the most part, except for in a few areas. The most glaring issue, although I won't dwell too much on it, is the transphobia regarding the "henchperson of indeterminate gender." While, to my understanding, this is remedied in the Netflix series (which I have not seen), it was still uncomfortable to see this character frequently dehumanized by both the story and the other characters, even if they played a relatively minor role. At times, it felt contradictory to the story's themes, as the narrative would explicitly discourage discrimination against people who are "different" (book six even defines the word "xenophobia"), but also portrays an androgynous character as inhuman. It's entirely possible that Handler was not aware of trans issues at the time he wrote the books, but this element nonetheless prevents them from aging as well as they could have.
The other issue I had with the series is that sometimes, plot elements almost seem forced within the narrative. While the orphans, of course, face plenty of misfortune, the solutions to many of their problems are often practically handed to them by the narrative. For example, when Klaus and Sunny need to figure out an anagram, they just so happen to be hiding in a closet full of alphabet soup, which they conveniently use to solve it. The wasabi that Sunny finds in the Gorgonian Grotto just so happens to be the cure to the medusoid mycelium, and it works instantly. Klaus, in an especially infuriating moment, cracks a code with an elaborately-worded phrase summarizing the central theme of Anna Karenina, and the specific words that he uses just so happen to be correct, despite the fact that there are countless ways the same idea could potentially be phrased. While the orphans all have their own specific interests- Klaus likes to read, Violet likes to invent, and Sunny likes to bite things, and later cook- they can seem underdeveloped at times because they're so heavily characterized by these interests, which they very frequently rely on. There's a moment in book four where Violet has to research hypnosis in order to save Klaus, and I really liked the idea of them having to take on each other's interests to help each other. However, for the most part, the Baudelaires tend to stick to their specific strengths, which usually allow them to solve any problem, so they don't often need to branch out.
Overall, despite its few faults, I enjoyed A Series of Unfortunate Events, probably even more now than I did when I was a kid. Each book was beautifully written, and I loved the slow reveal of plot elements, as well as the gradual descent into its philosophical themes. Being more well-read and experienced at my age than I was at nine or ten, I was able to appreciate the books far more. The humor, storytelling, and themes still largely hold up, and it was fascinating to return to a piece of media that left such a strong impression on me at a young age, and would continue to leave an impression on me the older I got. I would definitely encourage anyone to read them, especially if, like me, you also read them as a child. Perhaps you may not want to read such a long tale of misery and woe being inflicted time and again on three (mostly) innocent children, and as Ishmael would say, I won't force you to. These books, while written for a young audience, can be very emotionally heavy, and may not be for everyone. But there's a lot of truth to them, and like the most miserable late quartets of Dmitri Shostakovich, I found them a great comfort because of just how real they are thematically. Perhaps later on in life, I'll encounter even more experiences that will make me appreciate the series even more than I do now, just as I did growing up long after I first read them. Maybe then, I'll have to read them again, and as I'll watch the Baudelaires grow for the third time, reflect on how much I've grown as well. But for the time being, I'll conclude this retrospective, which has already dragged on for long enough, as I've finally reached the end- at least for now.
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daeguzen · 1 year
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Lee Haechan Keeps Breaking Up With Me
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PAIRING | l.dh x f. reader, ft. n.jm
GENRE | angst, slight fluff
WORD COUNT | 7.6k
NOTE | i just wrote all of this, it's not proofread lol. this is the start of the started with a book series. first book is called laura dean keeps breaking up with me. it's an lgbtq+ comic styled book. the art style is very pretty and the story itself, i find, is good. a coming to age story about friends, neglect, and toxic relationships. i followed the basic plot for the most part but all scenes, characters, and personal story lines are not 100% true to the original book. credits to the author of course for what i did relate to.
WARNING | reader has negative views of themselves, mentions of infidelity, manipulative characteristics, toxic relationships
SONG | i don't know you - the marias
SUMMARY | becoming lee haechan's girlfriend was the best day of your life. he was everything you dreamed of. the most breathtaking, and beautiful lee haechan was someone you were lucky enough to call yours. it goes unnoticed how he easily manipulated you into doing all he wanted, believing the pretty lies that left his lips. the love you had for him was enough to blind you to how mean he could be and how often he broke up with you just to get back together again. no one understood why you kept running back into the embrace of the boy who paid no mind to your pain. when you seek advice from the don't need that love online forum, your forced to face the truth. your heart is breaking slowly, your friendship is falling apart, and you can't seem to do anything right. and what would it take for him to stop breaking up with you?
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Wiping down the cafe table, you find yourself lost in the repetitive motions of your work. You move your arm around, rag in hand, watching as the little crumbs fall on the floor. Placing the napkin dispenser and other items neatly in their respective places. Backing away from the now clean area, you take the used dishes to the kitchen. You hear the faint chimes that sound every time people walk in and out. It’s not as busy, that being the situation every Wednesday afternoon. When you come out back to the front you’re greeted with a small cappuccino made by your co-worker Na Jaemin.
“You look like you need an energizer. Don’t worry, the boss won’t mind.” Glancing at him and back at the drink in his hand you break out in a small but grateful smile.
“Thank you Jaem, what would I do without your kind gestures?”
“Crash and burn.” At that you let out a laugh that makes Jaemin’s eyes sparkle. Something you never noticed, eyes always wondering elsewhere.
“Honestly, I can say you read me better than my own boyfriend.” You also miss the twitch in Jaemin’s smile, lips almost frowning. But he reverts back to his friendly self knowing that the place next to yours wasn’t for him.
“Well I believe that your boyfriend is a little bitch.” You almost choke on your coffee at the sudden selection of words.
“Jaemin!”
“Just saying what I believe. An opinion tis all. Now finish up young lady, back to work before manager Suh comes in and sees you downing his precious coffee.”
“I thought you said he wouldn’t mind.”
“Hmm did I?” You stifle a giggle as you finish up your tasty cappuccino. Although he had been partially messing with you when he called your boyfriend a little bitch, you couldn’t help but wonder if Haechan wasn’t the best boyfriend in the world. You could’ve gone without the name calling. Visibly, you sigh as you throw your coffee cup away, thoughts of Haechan lingering in your mind. Most of the time, the emotions you felt when remembering him were sad and lonely ones. You oftenly had to wonder where he was or if he’d call you. Maybe he’d forgotten about you completely at times. You weren’t sure but you hoped it wasn’t so. 
When the chimes ring again, you look up ready to greet the incoming customer when you realize it’s your bestfriend Mark. Your smile diminishes as you watch the evident frown and glaring eyes. When he stops at the counter you don’t even get one word out before he speaks up.
“What happened to showing up to my show at 4 pm sharp?” Your eyes widen. Shit.
“M-Mark, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to miss it, Johnny called me in to work yesterday and I forgot to follow up with you. Please I’m sorry, I-I can make it up to you.”
“You can’t because you always do this.”
“What do you mean?” You feel yourself try to hide, curl into yourself as Mark’s words leave painful imprints on your chest. You couldn’t blame him though, it was your fault. Only you were to blame for being a fuck up of a girlfriend and best friend.
“You always come to me when you need something or when you’re down. Mostly when your jerk of a boyfriend doesn’t give you any attention. But when I want to go to you you’re never there. When I tell you I have a show that I really care about that I would love for my best friend to show up to, you forget. It’s not fair.” Mark looks near tears as he speaks to you in a tone that always felt alien to you. He starts to turn away, opting to just leave at that point.
“Markie, wait, don’t go I really am sorry!”
“Fuck off Y/N.” There’s the sound of a choked off sob, tears tricking with a heavy heart in hand. You jump slightly when Jaemin’s hand comes to soothingly rub your back, arms bringing you into a hug.
“It’s okay Y/N, it’ll be okay. If you want, go home and rest up a bit, it’s not a busy day and I can talk to manager Suh.” 
You want to shake your head and say no, that you’re fine and that you can do your job but Jaemin doesn’t let you. And even if his intentions were good, it only made you feel worse. Not only were you a careless best friend and boring girlfriend, but now you were a useless co-worker. Walking out of the cafe, your eyes were trained on the sidewalk, the tears still streaming down your face. They didn’t stop even when you reached your house. Not until you fell asleep with only a pillow to hold.
~
You spent the entirety of the following week trying to make up for your mistake. You kept apologizing, telling him that you appreciated him a lot and supporting him during his recordings. He accepted it, also apologizing for telling you to fuck off but you told him there was no need. He was right to be upset with you and you promised that this time, you’d work on being a better and attentive friend. Knowing that the only thing Mark was forgetful about was eating properly, you oftenly brought him lunch boxes and coffee from your workplace.
You were aware that Mark wasn’t a big fan of your boyfriend. And it frustrated him to see the frequency of your visits with lunch boxes in hand not because he wasn’t grateful but because he knew Haechan never saw any of this. Your boyfriend was as good as a ghost, even dead. He hoped that one day, you’d have the courage to leave him and be happy. You were his childhood friend and seeing how those eyes of yours morphed into something sad and empty would always be a sadness of his own.
It was Tuesday morning when you walked out of the recording studio, bidding farewell to Mark. You made your way towards the Art Building, where your Intro to Art and Visual Culture class was scheduled in about thirty minutes. You sat on one of the seats in the hallway to wait for your class to begin. Scrolling through your phone, you couldn’t help but see what Haechan had been posting. He told you he was busy, it was why you hadn’t seen him in over three weeks. If hanging out with friends at a bar could be considered busy. You never complained or called him out for anything. You weren’t that type of girlfriend and Haechan would probably be annoyed if you were.
Still, you couldn’t help but wish that those pretty eyes would look at you. You could almost imagine him walking up to you, wearing nothing but jeans and an oversized hoodie. You’d look to your left, seeing him sit down next to you, getting lost in those sparkling and mischievous eyes. The pretty marks that dotted his face, creating the Ursa Minor constellation. You would adoringly call him your little bear because of it. His hair had always looked soft, grown out and messy but it was your favorite out of all the ones he’d worn before. You liked how it almost came around his eyes and down to the back of his neck. When you blink again, his image is gone and you’re left with an empty seat, just a picture of him on your phone case.
Your head falls back gently onto the wall behind you, eyes closing. What would it take for Haechan to just see you? To love you like you did him? He had to at least somewhat love you. He wouldn’t keep coming back if he didn’t, right? It felt more like something you tried to tell yourself to believe instead of what could be the actual truth. Maybe Haechan didn’t love you. Or maybe you were asking for too much when you were not enough. Still, Haechan was yours. At least a piece of him had to be yours, even if your entirety belonged only to him. When your eyes open, moving to the side, you see his smiling face.
“I wish you were real.”
“If I weren’t then what would I be? A ghost?” You blink once and then again. By the third time, he’s still sitting there. That dazzling smirk spreads across his face as it always did. Suddenly, he brings himself closer, head tilting and lips aiming straight for yours. You felt that emptiness fill again, forgetting all the bad thoughts that clouded your mind. Before he could pull away, you surprisingly let your fingers slip into his hair and hold him there for a bit. He lets a muffled sound of what seems surprise as he lets you get lost within him.
For you it was everything but for Haechan, he just relished in the way he held your delicate heart in his hands. Always at his beckoning call even when he discarded you. He could always present himself in front of you and you’d be like a puppy waiting for their master.
He pulls away from you, eyes hooded when he sees you chase a bit after him. You miss the bad glimmer in his eyes, when he takes a good look at your closed eyes, lips colored red and swollen. You feel his hand come up to caress at your cheek softly, a great contrast from the manipulative feelings burning within him.
“Darling, you look so cute like this. Maybe I should keep you waiting for my kisses more frequently.” He clearly knows what he’s doing and saying when he watches the sad frown grace your lips.
“I missed you so much. I haven’t seen you in three weeks now. Where have you been?”
“I told you I was busy doing stuff. My friends needed me. But I remembered about your class today and since I didn’t have anything to do I thought maybe we could go somewhere.” Another frown, another internal flare of manipulative words. A never ending dance doomed for tragedy.
“Hyuckie, I have class in twenty minutes.”
“The same class you attend every Tuesday for five months. Missing one class isn’t going to affect you. Besides, don’t you want to spend time with me? You said you missed me.” Haechan’s hand retracts, his thumb lightly grazing now at your neck. 
“But I like this class a lot.” This time it’s Haechan who frowns, observing how you’ve become a little resistant to him.
“What, so you like your class more than me? I thought I meant more, that I was important to you above all else.” When you see him pout he knows he’s roped you in. He likes the desperate look to please him and wonders what he did in life to find such a willing girl that wants to see him happy and sets her heart right out in front of him. He could almost laugh.
“Fine, fine. But only this one time. I can’t keep skipping classes.”
“Don’t worry love, no one will notice you’re missing and we can have fun.” No one would ever notice you the way I do. See you the way I do. Your heart, it’s all for me to play with and do as I please. And you could never dream of saying no to me my love.
Haechan grasps at your hand now, excitedly dragging you away. To you, not much else mattered more than keeping him happy. Even if it was at the expense of your responsibilities and well being. As long as he could smile with those dazzling eyes into yours, you thought that was enough.
“Where are we going Haechannie?”
“Anywhere we want.” Anywhere I want.
“Can we get coffee together?”
“Should we?” No.
“Unless you don’t want to, we could go get ice cream if you’d like, I know you like that one place by the bookstore.”
“Hmm, I guess we’ll get ice cream then!” Of course we are.
“Haechannie?”
“Yes?” What?
“I love you.” 
“Me too.” Of course you do, who wouldn’t?
And eventually when you do get your ice cream and he pays for you, you get a piece of him. You enjoy it to the fullest. But as you're finishing your treat, he does what he always does. When his eyes find his friends he lets those words roll smoothly out of his mouth. I’ll be back so wait for me here.
You tell yourself he’ll come back. But you always knew what those eight words meant. Even if you denied it as hard as you could, the rising moon could not deny it for you. 
Haechan left you in the dark again.
~
Dear DNYL,
My name is Y/N and I’m a third year college student at Dream University of the Arts. I’m currently in a relationship with my sweet boyfriend Hyuck. I love him dearly. He’s a great guy deep down. When he first asked me to be his girlfriend, I was sitting on a singswet and he was kneeling in front of me. He looked at me, I know he took a really good look at me. He was so sweet, his hand held mine, and he told me that he had never met another girl like me. He said he wanted to keep me all for himself. 
But I think that things aren’t going very well. I just can’t figure out why. I love him and he loves me. I know he does. He buys me ice cream. Even pretty flowers because he knows I like them.  He lets me join in on his streams. He’s a gamer. He’s pretty good at it too. I’m not as good so he doesn’t let me embarrass myself in front of his friends. I know he’s taking care of me by doing this.
I just can't seem to understand something. Even with all this love, Hyuck sometimes feels upset. And I don’t know how to fix it.  I know it’s my fault, I should pay more attention to him because I’m his girlfriend. I care for him a lot. But I don’t know how to fix it because truthfully, my boyfriend Hyuck keeps breaking up with me and I don’t know what to do. Please reply soon. 
Lots of love,
Y/N
~
It was a mistake. Your balance had failed and the other boy had been too close. You were slightly tipsy, waiting on the couch for your boyfriend. He invited you to the bar he frequented with his friends. You were okay enough to know that you were going to have to apologize again. Not only to Haechan but to Jaemin too. Your boyfriend was so caught up in talking to some other person that he forgot about his promise to take you home half an hour ago. You decided to take matters into your own hands, not being able to take the sight in front of you.
Jaemin hadn’t taken very long to find you. He came over to you asking if you were okay, you only replied with a small yes as you took his hand into yours. But the world was spinning so when you fell back, Jaemin tripped over you, lips brushing against yours. It was straight out of a dramatic story. But he didn’t stay more than a second like that when he was getting up, ears red, and stuttering apologies. You laughed, waving it off, and telling him that you’d really like to go home.
Jaemin held you close to his side, when his eyes came up, he noticed the silhouette of the person he could honestly say he hated. He watched as Haechan’s arm retracted from the girl next to him, eyes engaging him in a furious glare. Before anything else could happen, Jaemin pulls away first, his top priority being you.
“Let’s take you home okay?” You nod, letting him guide you to his car. You don’t notice the familiar steps that hurriedly hit the payment. It’s only when he’s blocking you from Jaemin’s car that you realize Haechan followed you out. He looks towards you, extending his hand out for you to take.
“Y/N, I’ll take you home.”
“If you haven’t noticed I’m taking her home.”
“I wasn’t talking to you. Y/N, let’s go now.” He moves forward to take almost by force but stops when he watches with shock at how you sink deeper into Jaemin’s arms. You most certainly did not just reject Haechan in preference of Jaemin. You couldn’t have done that.
“Y/N?” He tries to soften his voice, masking the edge and frustration he’s feeling. To him, there was definitely something wrong with you. You’ve been resisting him recently and he wasn’t a fan of it.
“You didn’t take me home. Jaemin…will do it. He listens.” Jaemin moves around Haechan, still holding onto you as he places you in the passenger's seat. He was sure to properly accommodate you. And when you saw that, your hands came up to try and wipe away your tears. Your sobs may have been hushed but Haechan heard them loud and clear. He turned to watch as you completely fell apart, telling Jaemin so openly that your chest was hurting. That you wanted it to stop. And then before Jaemin closed the door, you uttered words neither boys would’ve ever thought you’d say.
“I wish you were my boyfriend instead. You’re not reckless. You make me feel safe Nana.” It was funny, how they both stilled, eyes wide with shock but for completely different reasons. Haechan felt humiliated. He was hurt but his brain processed all the wrong reasons. Thinking that he was losing his control over you was what he thought bothered him. Jealousy? Of course it was, you were after all his. Jaemin on the other hand, felt sad that he wished it would be the same. But he knew that the moment you’d sober up, you’d forget all of this. And you’d go back to the very arms you were running from tonight.
When you arrived at your house, Jaemin had to carry you. You were at the same low you found yourself in whenever Haechan was around. Jaemin was seeing it all and you couldn’t help the embarrassment in you. But Jaemin didn’t care about any of that. What he cared about was your wellbeing. He loved you more than his words could convey. It ripped him apart to watch Haechan bring you down and toy with you as if you were nothing. But he could never force something that was not meant to be. All he could was be a good friend, it was all he could be even if he craved for more.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“Making you…drive me home. Bothering…”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m here when you need me.”
“Sorry about the kiss. Lost my balance.” For all the self control Jaemin had, he didn’t want to stop his next words. He wouldn’t regret them, he’d just regret the feeling of your inevitable rejection.
“I kinda liked it.”
“Hmm.” Jaemin sighs at your response.
“Of all times you decide to fall asleep on me, it’s the moment I bare a piece of my soul. Sleep well Y/N.” He leaves the door to your room ajar and walks towards the sofa bed in your living room. He doesn’t want to leave you alone in this state, well aware you’d need someone to take care of you in the morning. If only he could hold you, brush his fingers through your hair, and kiss you again. Even if it was selfish, he wanted to be in his place. He’d always want it to be him instead.
~
Dear Y/N,
Thank you for reaching out to us! I’m Renjun, one of the consultants from Don’t Need That Love. I just want you to know that I’m proud of you for sending us your letter. I want you to take a moment. Just take a moment to breathe. Focus on yourself as you read this and put away all other thoughts. I want you to know that as a consultant here, I am very honest with my words from what I collect from these letters. Although, it may not be what you wish to here, we do this to give perspective on what may be happening in your love life. At the end of the day, I am here to help.
The relationship you are in is not very healthy. Significant others are meant to be there for you, cherish you, and make you happy. But I think you’ve convinced yourself that your boyfriend doing all these things for you is his way of showing his love. I think he tries to manipulate you with his words, to make himself seem like he’s upset and guilt you into giving in. You don’t need someone else to validate you as a good person. You work on accepting yourself as you are. And if there’s someone in your life who truly cares about you, they will be the ones to talk about healthy changes you need to consider.
Not allowing you to play games and to just watch his streams because his friends are there, is not an excuse. If anything he’s supposed to stick up for you. He has probably tried to mold you into someone who is dependent on him. To have you any time he calls out.
Let me ask you sincerely, do you think Hyuck truly sees you for the person you are? Does he know all the things you enjoy? Does he respect you and your friends? Does he agree and accept your words even if it’s a simple opinion or request? Ask yourself, how do his actions reflect the love he says he has for you. Write it out if you’d like, think upon it and then if you want you can write to me again. I hope to hear from you soon.
Lovingly,
Renjun
~
“We need to talk.” It was the first time Haechan wasn’t so kind to you. Before, it was an exchange of a few words and then him abruptly walking away. But now, he dragged you by your arm, fingers painfully digging into your skin. He led you into the alleyway next to the cafe you worked at. Letting you go, he let his arms fall at his sides. He ignored the way you rubbed your arm to soothe the pain.
“Were you trying to hurt me last night?” You winced.
“N-no, I didn’t mean to-”
“So what, you were just caught up in the moment. For fucksake he was on top of you and you let him!”
“I didn’t mean to do it! It was an accident!”
“So if I were to just kiss any other girl I’d be able to call it an accident? Is that how much my love means to you?” It hurt that he’d accuse you but it didn’t outweigh the guilt you felt for hurting him too. 
“No, of course not. Your love means so much to me I-”
“Do you remember what you said to Jaemin?” For some reason, Haechan looked more hurt than you’ve ever seen. His eyes were slightly red as if he had cried.
“W-what are you talking about?”
“You called him to pick you up. Because I didn’t do it as soon as you wanted to. You told him he listens to you. Do you think that I don’t? You think I’m an inadequate boyfriend.”
“Hyuckie no-”
“You told him you wished he were your boyfriend instead!” His statement shuts you up immediately. Hands shaking nervously from the onslaught of accusations. You were drunk but you knew what you had said. And although you avoided that conversation with Jaemin, you knew it was inevitable with Haechan.
“Should we just break up?” At this you panic and Haechan laughs, relishing in how immediately you reached out to him. You’re still mine. You belong to me and no one else.
“Darling, every time we break up we always find our way back. You understand me and I’m the only one who understands you. What we have is more important than a meaningless kiss you shared with that bastard,” he watches your lips slightly frown, “unless you think he’s more important to you than I am.” You shake your head, giving the answer he wanted.
“I want to hear you say it, love. Say I’m more important to you than him.”
“You’re more important to me than him.”
“So we’re good now. Okay lovely?”
“Yes Haechan.”
“Good,” Haechan moves in to kiss you and you know he never does little pecks. He brings you closer, kissing you in a way you don’t recognize. Because this time, it’s you who tries to pull away gently and he who lets out a sound of disapproval, reaching to kiss you again.
“I know you have to get back to work but after you get off let's go on a date. We’ll do anything you want.” You blink up at him, eyes almost innocent and he feels something strange spread in his chest.
“Anything?” He nods.
“Can we go to the music shop? I want us to listen to music together.” Haechan, who is usually so composed, feels a haze in his mind as he gives in to you. He tells you that he would love to. And he tries to understand why he’s feeling this way but as it always happened, he recognized all the wrong reasons. This time, he thought it was simply because he almost lost his little toy. But you came back into his arms, you always would.
~
“Mark, I’m sorry. Please believe me I-”
“You know every fucking time I see you, your always apologizing. And it’s getting very tiring Y/N. I thought we were fine, thought you were doing better.”
“I don’t mean to-”
“What? You don’t mean to be a shitty friend? Goddammit, I feel like we’re going in circles. Why can’t you see your boyfriend is a complete asshole? He doesn’t love you!” Mark’s words were meant to hurt you. You knew that much. But hearing him openly express them made you want to cry. And it seemed that it was all you ever did. You were happy one moment crying the next. And it never seemed to stop.
Currently, you stood in Mark’s room, it changed a lot from how he had it as a kid. Now, you could say it was a perfect depiction of who he was. He loved music, he would say he wouldn’t know what to do with his life if it wasn’t for his passion. It looked lively with all the album covers on his walls, music sheets thrown about and instruments on one side. 
But looking at him now, he didn’t have the brightness about him. He looked drained and it scared you of how much he seemed to resemble you.
“H-he does love me.”
“Of course he does. Little Mr. Perfect with the dazzling eyes could never hurt you. Oh no, he loves you so dearly that’s why he goes around fucking other girls behind your back.”
“What?” Mark looks to you clearly now, the color draining from both your faces.
“Mark, what are you talking about?”
“You can’t tell me you didn’t know? How could you not know?” An unfortunate turn of events but maybe this was what served as the eye opener you needed.
“Mark?” He looks towards you, frustration in his shoulders but tears rolling down nonetheless.
“I guess that makes two of us. How pathetic. Not only are we best friends who share birthdays but now we can both say we got cheated on.” 
You took a moment to process what he was saying. You knew you were a lot of things. Stupid. Ignorant. Foolish. But you weren’t entirely heartless. And only others knew that you were more selfless than selfish. You walked towards Mark, without saying a word you pulled him into an embrace. That was all it took for him to break down.
Mark was a good kid. He did his work diligently and he was one of the most talented musicians at the university. He had a growing following on his platforms. He was always a good son and tried to be a good friend. He thought he had to meet everyone’s expectations and beyond. You often had to bring him down from that cloud and back to earth. Mark didn’t have to try and be perfect because he already was. He just had to be the best he could be. Your hands came to touch his face, knuckles brushing away gently at his tears. You should have been there for him. You should have been a better friend. But you failed him and this was something you’d never forgive yourself for.
“I think there’s a lot we have to discuss about Markie. I’m sorry for not being there. But I’m here now. And I won’t go away anymore.”
And so with that, Mark explained to you that his girlfriend of three years had cheated on him with one of the boys in his piano class. He told you about how he found them, how upset he was, and how badly she tried apologizing for her mistakes. But he realized that he couldn’t take it. That the only person who he couldn’t push away no matter how many times she apologized was you. He could learn to live without her but he couldn’t do that with you. And after talking for hours about him, the topic you dreaded finally came up. And after everything you heard, you realized a lot of things about yourself. Things you finally had the courage to change.
~
Haechan came around to your coffee shop, smirking at the obvious glare Jaemin sent his way. 
“Y/N, you’re gonna go to my birthday party tomorrow right?” Looking up from behind the cash register, you watch Haechan leaning on the counter.
“I thought your birthday was next week?”
“It is but I’m celebrating it tomorrow. I’m inviting all of my friends too. Don’t worry I can pick you up.”
“Haechan, I appreciate it but I have something really important to do.” Haechan frowns. Did you…just say no without apologizing? He straightens up to look at you more clearly.
“What’s so important that you have to miss my birthday party?”
“It’s personal.”
“So now we’re keeping secrets?”
“You’d know a lot about keeping secrets.” Haechan has the audacity to scoff. The shock he felt wasn’t enough to even begin describing the list of emotions he was going through.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused. Now leave, there's a customer behind you.” He looks at you, mouth gaping open. When he looks back to where your coworker stands with amusement written on his face, he turns angrily.
“No way did you just reject your boyfriend's invitation.”
“I did,” you let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s just…I’m not used to you denying him anything. Not to sound nosy or whatever but your man is-” before he could say more you add, “a little bitch.” If Jaemin had taken a sip of coffee he would’ve spit it out. But he settled with his jaw dropping to the floor.
“Who are you?” You turn to look at him and for the first time in years, he watches a genuine smile grace your face all the way to your eyes.
“Y/N L/N, third year college student at Dream University of the Arts. The best friend to none other than Mark Lee and Na Jaemin. The soon to be ex-girlfriend of one Lee Haechan."
~
Dear Renjun, 
Thank you for writing back. It means a lot to me. It did hurt a lot, the words you wrote. I’m embarrassed to say that I spent a few weeks agonizing over it but I’ve finally gathered my courage. One that I think took too long to find. I guess I’ll just start with everything that’s been on my mind.
I hate going to the ice cream place all the time. I only did it because Hyuck doesn’t like coffee too much. I would always offer coffee, he’d say should we, and I knew it was his way of saying no. He never gets me the flowers I like. Blue and white hydrangeas are my favorite. But he gets me roses because he says they are the most romantic. I’ve always found them to be basic. He’s never told me loved me directly. I would always say it first. He also always leaves me alone. Whether in the rain, sun, dark clouds, or on a park bench. He made me skip classes because he made me feel as though I wasn’t loving him enough. He never talks kindly about my friends. He doesn’t listen to me when I’m agonizing. He forgets me.
You’re right, he doesn’t see me. I called it love because I wanted to believe it. But it wasn’t. It never was to begin with. I was a toy to him, a puppet. One that he could pull the strings back towards him. But these past few weeks have made me realize and see things for what they truly were. My friend confessed something to me. He went through something sad in his relationship just like I did with mine. I see now how badly I’ve neglected him. Just like Hyuck does to me. 
I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want to be with him. I want him to let me go. I know it’ll hurt but I know I’ll be happy when we set each other free. My boyfriend Huck keeps breaking up with me because he doesn’t need my love. He doesn’t fear losing it. And even if I do want to cry and scream…I can’t. Why do I feel so free?
Thank you Renjun. For listening to me and for providing me with your words of encouragement. It’s one of the many things that I needed to grow out of this. I hope wherever you are that you’re doing well. And that you have people who cherish you deeply.
Lots of love,
Y/N
~
Taking a deep breath as you bring your hand up to ring the doorbell, you hear the faint sound of it ringing in Haechan’s apartment. When the door opens you’re met with the smiling face of a boy you’ve never met. He looks like he’s gone through hell and back. Wincing at the sudden daylight he gives you another small and quirky smile.
“Hello! You here for the after party?”
“After party?”
“Yeah, Haechan is having a weekend birthday party so we’re on dia numero dos. Come in!” You walk in a little weary at all the excitement that exudes from the boy. When you step into the living room you see a few boys, with what seems to be their girlfriends, and Haechan sitting in the middle laughing away with a bottle of Bacardi. When he turns he sees you and you can see his gears turning in his head. The ones that used to manipulate you. 
“Y/N, you’re here.”
“I didn’t know you were having another party.”
“Yeah well I was sad that my girl couldn’t show up for some reason so the guys are here to cheer me up. We’re going to be partying all week!”
“Yeah, uhm can I speak to you in private?” Haechan’s eyebrows furrow. There’s a little bite to his tone when he answers you.
“Why can’t you say what you need to say here?”
“Because it’s a little personal.”
“Just like yesterday? Why are you being so secretive Y/N? It’s getting really annoying.” His friends just look at the two of you, some giggle, others ignore the situation, and a few look disappointed in him. One of them you recognize as Jeno, Jaemin’s best friend. You knew he was a good guy. You wondered if Haechan had somehow manipulated him too.
“I don’t want to say it in front of your friends.” He scoffs.
“Just spit it out Y/N, I’m trying to cheer up after you left me hanging.” You could visibly hear the snipping of the threads that kept you tied to him. Miraculously, with all the confidence you could muster you let out the same words he would whisper in your ear.
“I’m breaking up with you Lee Donghyuck.” No one laughed at that. No one dared to as they watched the show unfold in front of them. You can feel Jeno’s eyes on yours but ignore it as yours don’t leave Haechan. He blinks, confusion spreading across his features. He then sits up straight, as if your words were registering late.
“I’m sorry what?” he laughs.
“I’m breaking up with you. You’re a piece of shit of a boyfriend. You only care about yourself. You manipulate people around you to make them feel bad and yourself better just to feed that insanely inflated ego of yours. You don’t bother listening to me or going out with me. You barely even know me after years of dating. I’ve had enough.”
“Fucking unbelievable.” Haechan’s eyes watered but you knew they were fake. He still had to play victim after all.
“You came to break up with me on my fucking birthday!?” 
“To be fair, your birthday is Tuesday.” Haechan lets the bottle fall onto the carpeted floor as he gets up in a haste of anger and disbelief.
“You can’t be-”
“Since you always interrupt me, let me do the same. You made me into a shitty person and friend. I willingly let you do that to me. But you know what? I realized that you’re not worth it Donghyuck,” and if using his real name was anything to go by, he immediately knew you were being serious, “You’re not worth being loved by me. I have so much love to give and you always take it for granted. I hope we never have to see each other again after this. I already left all of your things outside your door. I don’t have anything to ask from you because you never care to have me over as much as you do your friends and the girls you sleep with behind my back.” You don’t miss how the color from his face drains, leaving him in a state that you never had the pleasure of seeing him in. You turned and left and as soon as you reached the sidewalk you heard the slamming of a door and Haechan’s loud voice rang through.
“Fuck you! Go fuck yourself! I don’t even need you! I never even fucking loved you! You weren’t special, you were nothing! You are nothing! You’re wrong. You’re the one who doesn’t deserve my love because my love is one of a kind and anyone in the world would be lucky to have it! Now you can say you were the one that lost it.” But you don’t turn around and you let Haechan have the last words. You don’t know what they are as you walk away from him. 
~
Dear Y/N, 
I’m happy to have received your last letter. I see that you’ve done a lot of self reflection. I know it must’ve hurt but I can see that you’re ready to move on. Know that you did all of this on your own. I may have provided words of encouragement but you took all the necessary steps towards your happiness. I’m proud of you.
I hope that all goes well for you too. And don’t hesitate to reach out again. Just because you’ve moved on from the relationship you were in doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind hearing from you again. Perhaps, if you find someone who does see you, you can let me know all about them. I’d be willing to hear from you again.
Lovingly,
Huang Renjun
~
Moving on from Haechan wasn’t so hard when you realized just how much more happy you felt. Even though you grieved the boy you left, you didn’t grieve the relationship. It would’ve been pointless to do so. Eventually, the light returned to your eyes. You didn’t look as tired as you used to. Jaemin would frequently tell you about how much you’ve changed for the better. Sometimes he’d think he’d say too much but you just observed how well he knew you. He even brought you your favorite flowers with a cup of coffee.
Instead of being alone at all the places you liked to frequent, Jaemin was there with you. Sometimes so was Mark. The arcade and music shop became your special places with Jaemin. You also made sure to never miss any Mark’s shows which he appreciated. It brought him near tears when you attended his fifth show in a row, watching how his best friend made every effort to be there. 
And when Jaemin asked you to be his girlfriend, you couldn’t help the feelings that spread in your chest. Jaemin loved you so much and he showed it to you. He listened and was always there when you needed him. He never left you behind, you were always next to him. All that mattered was already in your life, you just had to let go of those who didn’t.
~
This is Y/N please leave a message.
Hey baby, it’s me, we need to talk...please call me back.
Love, can you answer your phone? I need to talk to you please. Please just call back ok?
Why are you hurting me like this? You broke up with me on birth- at my birthday party and now you’re ignoring all of my calls? Could you just please fucking answer? I know you still get my messages. I know you do.
Hey it’s me again, Haechannie, the love of your life. Remember you would call me your love? I do. Listen, I’m sorry for being angry in my last voicemail. It was mean of me to talk like that and I’m really sorry but I was just feeling  frustrated that you won’t answer. I just need you to pick up the phone once love, so we can talk. Please, I’m sad that the only way I hear your voice is through your voicemail message. And I can’t seem to find you on campus please just call. I tried looking for you at work but you’re never there and I- you have reached the time limit for this voicemail.
H-hey, b-baby please p-please. I-im sorry. I know, I know I hurt you and I know you’re upset with m-me but please! I have to t-talk to you. I miss you so fucking much please please please call me baby please! F-fucking call me back! 
Y-Y/N why won’t you call me back? I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating. I can’t smile. I can’t do shit. I miss you so so so much. I miss kissing you. I want to kiss you. I want you. I need you. I need our cuddle sessions back. And I want us to go for ice cream again. Love, please just pick up your phone. 
I heard you’re d-dating Jaemiiin! That’s sooo f-fucking funny. I actshually for uh s-second thought that you..that you started d-dating that b-bastard. D-does he know? Does he know m-my love, that I, Lee Haechan! Was your first in everyyything? That I kissed you first? That I made love to you first? Held you first…I held you first. You fooled me love…huh fooled me goood.
Y/N f-for fucksakes! I love you I-I love you! I love you! Love me back baby please! Love me I need you to love me! L-love me. Love me because it hurts. It hurts so much. I’m a fucking mess. I’m fucking c-crying right now and I sound so pathetic. Is this what you want to hear? T-that I cry myself to s-sleep every night wishing you were next to me? And that I, I’ve been drinking too much. S-sometimes I feel like…I feel like I can see you. Like I could just…reach out and t-touch you. And then I reach out and you’re not there! Baby please- you have reached the time limit for this voicemail. 
Fucking automated piece of shit! I hate hearing it! I want to hear you! Please love me! Use me. Do anything you want with me baby but please don’t leave me. B-baby please pretty please! Play with my heart. I-I deserve it right? For hurting you, I deserve it and i-if you come back then I’ll let you do whatever you want with me. How does that sound, hmm? Sounds good right love? Please, don’t leave me. I’ll give you my love. You have it all.  Your love is one of a kind, your love is the one not worth losing. Come back and love me, I need you to love me, love me so it won’t hurt anymore.
The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.
The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.
The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.
The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.
The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.
The phone-
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en-whims · 1 year
Text
𝄞 FAINT LINE | PARK JONGSEONG
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the fifth instalment from the "Narratives from the Walkman: a 90's love collective" series
genres: fluff; ex rival!jay; ex fubu!jay; enemies to lovers (?); angst if you squint | wc: 2k | pairing: jay x fem!reader | warnings: non-explicit sexual themes; mentions of the words synonymous to ‘sex’ | tagging: @yenqa @yjjungwon @sophialosthercardigan @saucyjaeyun
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[ 👤 ] SIDE A ; BOY 5 ㅡ PARK JONGSEONG
°❝ won't find the answer in anyone else
will be a secret song for ourselves
i'll write you a letter to read when you're down
you'll be the promise that i want to keep. ❞°
[ 🎧 ] SIDE B ; TRACK 5 ㅡ fall into you by devinta trista
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Turning up at your college friend’s wedding reception was one of the unexpected things you did tonight. You were drowning in paperwork lately, and you just wanted it all to be finished by the following day.
But here you were in a body-tight, velvety black dress, champagne glass in hand, and a throbbing heart with a mind full of what-ifs. You impulsively thought of the things that could go unplanned tonight. What could go wrong, right?
The colorful lights glimmered across the hall as the disco ball gradually turned itself around. You weren’t sure why you came at first, but now that you were feeling the vibe, it made you want to go back to the graduation ball of ‘95 when you spent it with your best friend turned lover for the night turned best friend again in his flat after a few wine and chaste kisses.
It’s been a while since you last saw Heeseung. A good seven years to be exact.
Unlike Ni-ki and Sunghoon, Heeseung sent you messages of comfort and even flirting at times, until he got himself a girlfriend in the same place he had been working at. You would find yourself smiling at random, thinking about him finally getting the love he deserves.
You walked further to where some of your old classmates were huddled at. A glint of happiness flashed upon your face when you saw Jungwon— a close friend of yours since college. He was always reserved and there were oftentimes when he just disappeared from your side and you would find him in the library the next instant.
You got used to it, after all, you were always assigned next to one another in seating arrangements for the whole course of your college years. You felt like you knew him pretty well.
He’s just… always there. But you’re not that comfy with each other compared to your best friends, the ones that left you. Jungwon’s got a squad of his own where people called them ‘nerds’ or ‘geeks’. Of course, at one time you were a part of it, but after the whole shenanigans with Jay during your sophomore year, people started looking at you like a different person.
To them, it was a good thing, but to you and Jay, it never was.
But Jungwon’s another story for another time.
“Hey, there cutie!” You gently nudged him on the side.
“Y/n— h… hi,”
“Not gonna lie, you look way more handsome without the glasses. Dude, when did you get rid of them?” Jungwon ran a hand across his nape as he smiled sheepishly at your compliment. “I thought maybe getting rid of it would help me from being too dependent on them. I guess it worked.” He shrugs.
In the midst of your catching up, a slow, romantic song played through the speakers hanging against every corner of the hall. You hang your lips on the brim of your wine glass as you look around, slowly feeling the awkwardness between you and your friend. You were never this loud and chatty with him.
The things you would often talk about were mostly centered around your course— mainly the subjects you’re taking and the advanced classes he took.
“Y/n?” You quickly shot him a look of surprise when you felt the warmth of his breath against the back of your shoulder blades. “Do you… can you… would you like to dance with me?” You always find it cute when he nibbles the inside of his lower lip and he knits his eyebrows together in contemplation.
A habit of his when he stutters and finds it hard to rephrase his words. “I would love to.”
He gently grabbed your hand when you locked your fingers with him, guiding you to the center of the hall together with a few other couples slowly swaying their bodies to the ballad. You thought it was very manly of him to dominantly put your hands on the back of his neck and gently pull you closer to him, giving you two a fair distance as he rested his gaze upon your lips.
But far from the slow dancers and the gradual turn of the disco lights, stood another man with a hand tucked in his pocket and the other slowly swirling a wine glass, carefully squinting his eyes in observance at an oddly friendly pair.
With Jay's mouth agape and eyes opened wide, he knew he must keep himself very still while he waited for a chance to longingly look at that familiar face for utter proof. But there was no use in waiting when your name bounced off the room in repeated cheers and awe.
He walked towards the direction of where you and Jungwon were with a plan in mind until your dance partner twirled you around, making Jay stop in his tracks and look at how genuine your smile was with another guy. Everyone cooed and whistled at Jungwon's little stunt, but the latter wasn’t one to let his guard down.
Jay walked further to where you were and knowingly cleared his throat just for everyone to look at him in awkward silence. “Can I have my girl back, Jungwon?”
You stood there for a long while until you leaned in closer to Jungwon's ear for a whisper that made him walk away from you with a forced smile etched on his face.
Everyone then went back to what they were doing, and you walked closer to where your former rival was. “Nice way to steal everyone’s attention.” Your fingers brushed against his dashing tux with a smirk plastered on your face.
“There’s an art to getting your way and twirling you around like that isn’t one of them.” You could only blush at him with the thought that he still knows you so well. As the slow, sweet song continued to play, he took the chance to slowly pull you closer to him as he rested his hand on the small of your back with his cheek leaning against your temple.
“I’ve been checking you out.” He whispered with a deep voice that made your heart throb faster than before.
“Let’s see, you slightly embarrassed me this evening by telling everyone I’m your girl, only to tell your old foe you’ve been checking her out.” You say to his face as you click your tongue. “The way you flirt, Jay, is so shameful. You haven’t changed at all, have you?” He could only chuckle. “But it’s okay. I mean, I told Jungwon you were my date tonight so,”
“Oh yeah? You really told him that, didn’t you? Wow, Y/n. You never changed.” You felt proud of yourself for a little while before Jay slowly pulled you into a tight hug and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You recognized this little trick of his as it’s his favorite among his many ones because he can easily put you at ease with just one snuggle.
And you did. You felt so good and relaxed in this state that you almost, almost whispered an 'I love you’. But you gulped down the deafening thought thinking he’d never look at you the same way.
You two have always drawn a solid line between romantic attachments and fooling around. Impulsively telling him your feelings would only make things worse, you thought.
You were holding Jay very close, close enough that you can smell his hair. You sniffed on it and whispered, lips too close you’re both almost an inch away from a peck. “I don’t like your new shampoo.”
“Still not over my sage-scented one, huh?”
The memories were still vivid up to now; of how you two used to screw each other a lot but at the same time, kept the rival reputation stable in the public eye.
Jay would never admit it, but he genuinely loved spending time with you, especially without the screwing part. There was just something about you that made him feel so safe and still is.
“Do you hate me, Y/n?” Jay mumbled under his breath, but audible enough for you to hear.
“I could never.” He only sighed in relief with that pretty smile on his face.
“Why? Do you hate me or something?” Jay moved away from the comfort of your neck and turned to look at you. He moved a few strands away from your face to put them behind your ear and slowly brushed his thumb against your rosy cheek. With an intense gaze shooting straight through your hazel orbs, he replied.
“Or something,” he chuckled. “I’m actually quite in love with you, really.”
And that’s when you realized that Park Jongseong had been knowingly walking the faint line in balance all along, just waiting for the finest moment to finally declare his almost a decade-worth of adoration for you.
You suddenly closed the gap between you two by smashing your lips against his. And for the first time, your kisses weren’t rough and sloppy, but slow and passionate as he took his time to explore your lips and their every curve like how an adventurer would familiarize himself with a map.
Your hands slowly crawled from his nape to his hair as you gently tugged it on impulse. Jay just let out a breathy chuckle under your lips before diving in for another one.
“Funny, I used to be very in love with you too.” You whispered under breathy exhales.
“Used to?” he chuckled. “What went wrong?”
“Everything.” His eyes stared up from your lips to your sincere eyes.
“To be very honest, you gave me a really great time, Jay.  Screwing or not, you were my favorite person at one point. I could still remember the mornings when my head didn’t hurt from crying too much the night before, and you were there to hold me so close because I was losing my shit. I will always thank you for those times, the most.”
“Why do I feel so nervous about what comes after that statement?” You softly chuckled, and it felt relieving to hear him return the favor.
“What we had was mainly temporary, we both knew that too well. Things were never gonna end with us, Jay. You and I screwing with each other was just for the fleeting pleasures and satisfactions. Love is far too different from lust, I’m afraid.”
“I know. But at some point, I was really in love with you. I got it bad and until now, you still brought a fire in my heart like it was just yesterday.” Jay found some loose strands almost covering your other eye so he slowly tucked them at the back of your ear while taking the time to run his fingers against your scalp. You sharply inhaled at his slightest touch.
“It was really comforting to see you again. I kinda missed our little yesterdays, but I don’t want to think that sleeping with each other would be the sole reason that could lead us to what could have been if we tried harder.”
“You will always be my favorite muse.” Jay planted a soft kiss on your forehead and remained there for a whole minute until the song ended. It would be wiser, you thought, if you finally gave each other the needed closure.
He was a playboy after all and up until now, you still think he is. Jay covering his traces of broken hearts with new tattoos was utter proof. You remembered finding your overused line on his shoulder blade that says ‘temporary’.
And you knew that if the both of you happened, you’re only going to break his heart, over and over again, and he will too because that’s something you both have in common; something that ignited the weary fires in your hearts when you both agreed to something that night, something you never expected to last longer than your other friendships.
With Jay, it will always be fairy lights on dim nights, chasing stars, and dancing silhouettes on white walls. Just when he thought he was getting closer to knowing where he belonged,
you break his heart for one, final time. —
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© EN-WHIMS, 2023. all rights reserved.
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acourtofthought · 5 months
Note
Me again and on the same day, so... I hope I'm not being annoying...
But what do you think about ccity3? (if you have already read it)
I may end up releasing some spoilers, so if you don't want to risk it, don't continue reading!!
I mean, more specifically what do you think about the shadows of Az, Ruhn and Comarc?
Today I saw an E/riel girl saying that the shadows disappear when they (Ruhn and Comarc) are comfortable, so they insisted again that Az's shadows disappearing with Elain is a good sign... I don't believe it's the same thing, definitely.
(But I don't have much context from Ccity, I haven't read them yet. Well, just the third one to see my girl Ness and Az)
And if you've already read it, what did you think of the Bryce&Az&Ness extra, the ending in particular; from shadows dancing to Az humming; of the exact words "could have sworn" being used in both of Az's extras twice;
And the song "Stone Mother"; Do you think it has a "meaning" for the future? I've seen people saying this is about Elain, I particularly agree with something I read about it having some connection to his mother (who was briefly mentioned during the extra)
They distorted a part claiming that the shadows danced with Bryce's cell phone, but that doesn't happen. I've never met an Elriel who played fair, they're always trying to change what was said. (Some said they were very confident after Ccity3, and I honestly didn't understand why)
Well, maybe I'm just super paranoid, looking for a little Gwynriel in every line... lol
I actually feel special to have gotten two asks in a day from you so thank you!!
I think if we were to compile a list of everything Az's shadows have ever done from start to finish in series, we'd find conflicting information.
I imagine there was a time where SJM did not truly know what she was doing with Az's shadows or what she wanted them to do for a particular love interest because she wasn't even sure that Az was getting a book early on.
And I think it's also a bit difficult for us to compare them to Cormac because the way Az's shadows came to him is unique. We're told that they came to Az while he was born in the dungeon, an airless, light-less prison where he learned the language of the shadows and it's difficult to say if the relationship he developed with them is equal to that of those with similar powers. Ruhn and Rhys share similar powers however it's evident that Rhys is by far and away much more powerful.
Az's shadows aren't exactly "him". They seem to be a bit sentient when you consider that he tells us they keep him company, that they whisper to him. He is not fully in control of his shadows at all times, they told him to sleep and he thought on how he wished he could.
I'm not saying we'd want Az's shadows to be swarming and ready to strike like snakes at all times, that's clearly not a good thing for either Az or the shadows. But having them tend to vanish around someone when he tells us they've been his companion would be like a friend who you grow up with start disappearing anytime your girlfriend came around. Wouldn't it be better if his shadows remained but were at rest or calm?
That's not the narrative SJM put out there for his shadows around Elain in SF though. They skittered away from her, he says they tend to vanish when she's around. It's clear that in SF Az is not in a great place so for E/riels to say they disappear around her because he's calm and that's a good thing is a complete contradiction to him thinking on how he's been ignoring her because he's bothered by her bond. She clearly does not bring him peace.
In the same book we're told that his shadows are afraid of the Sun and in HOFAS, we get more evidence that they don't hold up to light very well.
When you consider how SJM often connects Elain to light and sunshine it seems pretty obvious that she's telling us Elain's penchant for those things is not going to compliment what we know of Az's shadows.
She also could not have made it more clear that the shadows responded to Gwyn in a way they never did with Elain. They danced and twirled with her breath, they were content to sit on Az's shoulders and watch when before the shadows were trying to get him to bed, they sang in response to her song (just as they sang in response to Az's humming). Saying they vanish around one female while having them curious and a bit playful with another, even if it's only in relation to her powers (as E/riels like to claim) is still better for the shadows......which are a part of Az but not fully him. They don't need to love Gwyn because the shadows are not possibly mated to Gwyn. But if Az is mated to Gwyn and his shadows have a bit of a thing for her song then is that not an extremely symbiotic relationship for all parties involved?
I'm not even sure Azriel understood the lyrics of the song because Nesta says she couldn't understand them so maybe it was truly just the melody that captivated Az. And the way the melody was described is a lot like the music of the priestesses service.
As likes music.
Gwyn is a singer.
Az himself began humming once the phone stopped playing.
They share a common interest and that's a valid thing to comment on in regards to a ship.
If Az was aware of the lyrics and the lyrics had to do with the Stone Mother legend than I'd hope no one would be trying to turn the words into anything ship related as the legend is Native American and Elain and Gwyn are white. But to your point, it could have something to do with his mother as she is Illyrian.
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sgiandubh · 7 months
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So about TCND. NO I'M KIDDING. Don't throw me away. What else are you watching or reading or interested in lately? There isn't actually anything to talk about regarding OL (the show or actors therein) and TCND is off the table until someone has actually seen it. Anything interesting going on?
Dear What Else Anon,
Oh, I am definitely not going to throw out such a wonderful question! I do think there are more things of interest regarding OL and actors therein (more on this, tomorrow and mood/current drama allowing). But your ask reminded me (and should remind anyone) there are other things happening under the sun than this.
I am still fighting with The Fiery Cross. Sometimes, I get tired of its unjustified slow burn and briefly seek solace somewhere else. While I quit the horrible habit of reading two books simultaneously years ago, I find soothing to sometimes take a break with a good poem.
This one, for example: Brecht's Questions From a Worker Who Reads (translated into English by M. Hamburger - probably the most satisfying version I could find on the Internet, right now - the original is um, more complex)
Who built Thebes of the seven gates? In the books you will find the name of kings. Did the kings haul up the lumps of rock? And Babylon, many times demolished. Who raised it up so many times? In what houses Of gold-glittering Lima did the builders live? Where, the evening that the Wall of China was finished Did the masons go? Great Rome Is full of triumphal arches. Who erected them? Over whom Did the Caesars triumph? Had Byzantium, much praised in song, Only palaces for its inhabitants? Even in fabled Atlantis The night the ocean engulfed it The drowning still bawled for their slaves.
The young Alexander conquered India. Was he alone? Caesar beat the Gauls. Did he not have even a cook with him? Philip of Spain wept when his armada Went down. Was he the only one to weep? Frederick the Second won the Seven Years' War. Who Else won it?
Every page a victory. Who cooked the feast for the victors? Every ten years a great man. Who paid the bill?
So many reports. So many questions.
Speaking of Byzantium, this reminded me of Bissera Pentcheva and Jonathan Abel's absolutely remarkable experiment into reconstructing (by computer) the acoustics of Constantinople's Agia Sophia and use it as an audio filter for sacred music recordings. In order to do that, she simply had to pop a balloon inside the cathedral (with special permit and adequate measuring and recording equipment) - it took her five days to get the perfect pitch. As a result, we now can hear those hymns the same way someone would around 1400, AD. This is probably the closest we could get to time travel:
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Oh, and I am also watching The Crown's sixth and last season, as many in this fandom, I suppose. More on this, when we are completely done with it. OL was the only exception to my read/listen/watch it all before discussing it rule.
You are obviously Anon but I have to thank you for this! Brought up wonderful memories of week-ends in Constantinople, staying at the Hagia Sofia Mansions and nearly touching its roof from the window of my room in the Yeșil Ev villa. Today, it's over: the Hilton guys took the whole complex and revamped it, Mafia style.
But this memory will never go away:
... a room
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....with a view:
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Would it be a good idea to make a new, weekly series out of your ask, perhaps something along the lines of Life Beyond OL? I am seriously toying with it, if that's what it takes to try and keep a modicum of sanity during promo: you decide on this one, here is a poll.
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cutesyscreenname · 3 months
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The Last Great American Dynasty: Chapter 1
This Was The Very First Page
Series summary:
Addiction, deadlines, a nasty divorce. In an effort to shed your skin and find yourself again, you pack up and move to a historic seaside home across the country. It's all a blur, you're hurting and spinning your wheels in a big house all alone. Until Frankie shows up on your doorstep.
Pairing: Frankie Catfish Morales x AFAB Reader
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 1709
Warnings: allusions to former drug use, mention of divorce, not too much to warn of yet we just getting started bby
Notes: I hope we all have a marvelous time and I don't ruin everything 💀 I've been gone for a long ass time, taking baby steps getting back into things.
Also much thanks to @pr0ximamidnight for helping flesh this out (aka letting me rant at her until it came together) and @mydailyhyperfixations, @joelsgreys, and @mylostloversbookmarks for also listening to me ramble 😂 lub u 🩵💙
Chapter One Playlist 🎶📻⚓🌊⛵🎶
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This was the very first page
Not where the story line ends
My thoughts will echo your name
Until I see you again
It feels pretentious to drive across the country like this when you don't have to. In fact it was a struggle to do so - insisting and arguing with everyone that you wanted, no - needed to. You could feel the eyes rolling behind your back, hear the sarcastic thoughts unspoken.
Who does she think she is, Kerouac?
Truthfully you just wanted the white noise of wind, pavement, and your Spotify playlist of guilty pleasure pop songs, too occupied by operating a motor vehicle to check the deluge of emails and texts that had been pouring in for months.
A Tale of Two Addicts
Best Selling Author Loses Control of Her Own Narrative
Authoring Her Own Disaster: Detox and Divorce
How could you blame them when the headlines practically wrote themselves?
“So let me get this straight. Not only am I not getting new pages, you’re putting this project on hold to move to the east coast so you can - what? - live out some whimsical seaside fantasy?”
You sat in your office chair, surrounded by stacks of cardboard boxes, pen hovering above the signature line of your divorce papers like a memoir you don’t want to take ownership of as your editor sighs at you over speakerphone.
“I’m doing what they told me to do in therapy, Miles. I’m changing the scenery, starting over. It’s difficult to write any pages for you if I’m too catatonically depressed to get out of bed. Take it as good news, a strategic move. Literally.”
The house has a history. That’s the reason you’d chosen it, frankly. You’d discussed the listings with your realtor over the phone, clicking through the pictures as they recounted the amenities and specs of each property.
“And then there’s the Harkness house…”
If her goal was to intrigue you she’d accomplished it tenfold, having you on the hook for every sordid detail as she regaled you with the story of a widowed heiress making a splash of scandal through the coastal town with her extravagance. She leaned into the impropriety of it all, trying to sell you with gossip, but all you heard was the story of a woman who had reclaimed her life after losing love. Perhaps the house held that energy in its foundation. Maybe if she did it there, so could you.
Pulling up the winding driveway you almost feel a page turn, a fresh start. Then the moving van crunches gravel behind you and your phone pings with a missed call from your lawyer, breaking the spell of your daydream.
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It’s been a long day already, an endless stream of delays and snafus. Missing parts and tedious tinkering with finicky engines has left Frankie a mess of sweat, grease, and frustration. The sigh of a long day finally finished whistles out as he climbs the stairs to the office, ready to hand in a few leaves of paperwork and drag himself home when the sound of muffled conversation gives him pause.
“She’s ruining everything, we’ve all but flown in the film crew and we hardly have half a film without that house in it!”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Ray, she could be perfectly cooperative. We don’t know-”
“It’s for fucking NETFLIX, Tim. I won’t be made to look foolish by some scandalous, self important, Hollywood-”
“And you won’t. Let’s just give her the packet, for all we know we could have signed papers come Monday morning.”
That’s all Frankie hears before the desire to get out of there steers his body back toward the stairs. I can turn these in on Monday, not worth the hassle...
Before his steel toe can touch the second step, though, the door swings open and a booming voice sounds behind him.
“Ah! Mr. Morales! Good timing, son. You pass the Harkness house on your way out of here, don’t you?”
The question is moot, the offices and hangar located along the coast such that there’s practically no choice but to pass the seaside estate if you want to reach the town and its modest sprawl of surrounding neighborhoods.
“I do, sir.”
“Then it’s meant to be. I’m sure you’ve heard that it’s newly occupied and we have a…welcome packet of sorts…for the new owner but the courier’s service is closed. Would you mind dropping this off on your way home?”
Tim, the more even keeled of the two executives that frequent these offices, hands over a manilla envelope without waiting for an answer, traces of engine grease still clinging to Frankie's skin leaving faint fingerprints on the hefty packet. The man cuts in again before Frankie can open his mouth to speak.
“Is the jet ready for takeoff in the morning? We’re expected in New York by eleven.”
Frankie studies the name on the envelope for a long moment before looking up to meet the impatient gaze of the man in front of him.
“Ah, yeah- Yes, sir. She’s ready for takeoff. Pilot’s ready for you anytime after eight, should you decide to leave earlier.”
He only receives a slight nod before both men push past him and he’s left alone outside the office door, eyes drawn back to the neatly printed label with your name on it. Why does it sound so familiar?
Lost in a daze of curiousity, Frankie’ feet carry him down the stairs, through the hangar, and out to his truck. He’s so distracted by the strange feeling in his gut that he starts his drive with his steel toes still on and the work orders still stacked along with the mystery packet in his passenger seat.
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It's been a week and you're still staring at, discovering, stumbling over boxes.
How the hell does one person accumulate this much stuff?, you think as you sit on the sofa and nurse the soon-to-be bruise on your shin from the cardboard cube you'd just rammed into rounding the corner into the living room. The house in LA had seemed so desolate when Trevor had moved out and now you sit surrounded by a sea of what now feels like junk.
Even in this vast expanse of square footage and seaside it seems the walls might close in on you at any moment.
Thoughts manifesting into reality, you begin to feel too hot seemingly from nowhere. Pulling at the collar of your worn t-shirt, you go to crack open the nearest window when a blue pickup truck rounds the bend and pulls up to your gate. Before you can take too long to squint and guess at who the hell would be at your gate on a Friday evening, the driver presses the call button and your phone begins to ring.
“Hello?”
The phone crackles lightly and a deep, dulcet voice answers you.
“Yes, ah- I've got a delivery here. Is this the new owner?”
From the window you can see the figure in the truck cab lift an envelope to read it and he confirms your name.
“Yeah, that's me. I'll buzz you in.”
“Thanks.”
You hang up and press the button to let him through, watching as he winds up the drive and stops in front of the house.
Had you forgotten to sign something? He asked about being the homeowner, so it can't be another addendum to Trevor's many demands attached to the divorce. Your confusion and curiosity gives way to a flustered state when you open the door.
The first things you notice are the rich brown orbs looking back at you, brows, lids, and laugh lines working to form a frame of sincere apology, like he knows it's unorthodox for him to be standing on your front step at this hour. The rest of him is just as entrancing - plush lips beneath a gorgeous nose, a broad frame just as soft as it is strong, and a rueful smile that has your cheeks flushing as he adjusts his Standard Oil cap to lend you a peak of soft brown curls.
“Hi there,” he interrupts your stupor and you wonder just how long you've been staring.
“I'm here to deliver this. It's from the Standard Oil offices, ah…courier service is closed and it's pretty important I guess.” He holds the envelope out for you to take, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck in what seems like a nervous habit. You can see the faint grease marks on his fingertips, a matching set of smears on the paper in his hand.
“Oh, um. Thanks. Any idea what it's for?” You take the packet from him, eyeing it curiously. It's simply addressed to you with no further indicators on the outside.
“Something about the property I suppose, not really clear on the details. Lot of history in this house, ya know?”
“So I'm told.” You smile softly, toying with the metal fastener, more intrigued by the messenger than the message at this moment.
After a brief silence he shakes his head, seeming to come back to the present, and you wonder where his mind had drifted to. “Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Sorry for the interruption.”
“Not at all. Thanks again.” You wiggle the packet lightly in your hand.
He cracks another smile and you're certain his eyes roam over you before he mutters a goodnight and turns to go back to his truck. You stay stagnant for a while, watching as he gets into the cab and pulls out of the gate, and a few long moments after that as well.
Finally closing the door, you pad into the kitchen and pour a glass of wine to sip while you open your mystery packet. As you set it on the island countertop a few stray sheets slip out from beneath the envelope. Picking them up, you notice they don't seem to have anything to do with you or the house. In fact they look like order sheets of some kind, a list of mechanical sounding items listed with costs and quantities scribbled next to them.
Next to a black smudge to match your packet and the stranger's fingertips is a carefully printed name on a line marked ‘authorized by’. You read the name aloud and your stomach flutters at the way it somehow feels familiar to say.
“Fransisco Morales…”
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More to come soon, let me know in the comments or my inbox if you want to be tagged for the next chapter 😬
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garbinge · 7 months
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Country Shit
Gilly Lopez x F!Reader (Soldier Reader) Summary: Pre-canon fic where you think the worst as a black town car approaches your home but are pleasantly surprised by whose home.
A/N: Posting this fic I've had in my docs finished for a while now. I hope to start getting back in the swing of things soon. I know a lot of people have been commenting/messaging/reaching out about my Bear series and I promise I'll update that soon, but for now enjoy my first Gilly fic from Mayans :)
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Cursing, mentions of war, bootcamp, training, army, army rangers, PTSD, trauma, death, grief, dishonorable discharge. Lightly angsty? Or maybe I'm numb to angst and its like medium-angst level lol. Light fluff.
Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie
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The clouds were rolling in, you heard the thunder in the distance as you sat on the back of your wrap around porch staring out at the ranch in your backyard. You pulled your cardigan tight around you out of instinct as the breeze from the storm on its way in, blew past you. The dark clouds casted a shadow on the large land of property that made up your backyard, the free-range chickens you owned had retreated into their coup, the two horses you took care of were nestled safely in the barn you had just 500 feet away from the house, and your dog was alert on your left hand side as he stared up at the rumbling sky. 
“Come on, boy, let’s get inside before it starts coming down.” You stood up and opened the back door and nodded for your dog to go inside. 
Your timing was impeccable, just as you closed the screen door, the rain started. The living room walls were filled with windows, you could see the droplets throughout every window on every window that surrounded the room. The sound of the water pelting against the roof and the deck filled the house, it was loud and mixed with the rumbling of the thunder. It needed to be drowned out, so you moved over to the record player you had set up by the front of the living room. 
The memory of the last time you used the record player was coming up short, but seeing the Sam Hunt record in the player made you smile. Placing the needle on the record, it scratched for a minute before the music started playing. It brought you back to a time in your life, there wasn’t much other way to describe it besides a time. It wasn’t something you’d describe as the best time in your life, not in the slightest, but there were some moments that weren’t completely horrible. 
“Come on! Grab your drink!” 
Those were the famous last words your bunkmate said before she dragged you onto the dance floor. You remember the beat of the banjo playing so loudly as you moved to the beat. It was the last night of Ranger School, you had graduated earlier in the day, your friends and family had come and gone already to wish you well before they shipped you off to your assignments.
You weren’t alone on the dance floor, you were in Georgia, so when Sam Hunt was playing, the crowd tended to thicken up a bit. The noise got louder from people singing along, and although it wasn’t your go-to selection, it was fun in comparison to everything training had put you through. You remember feeling beer dripping down your jeans as you jumped up and down with the mix of Ranger graduates and town locals, but you didn’t mind one second of it. You just loved having the excuse to wear something other than your green service uniform. 
As the song reached its last minute, you had started to sing along to the lyrics, your laugh was contagious by those around you as you enjoyed the celebration. You were drunk, there was no two ways about it, and you weren’t alone in that, everyone around you was too. Some people attempted to line dance, because choreographed moves were the perfect thing for a bunch of drunks, but everyone seemed to make it work. Except him. And you heard his voice in your ear as you were trying to keep up with those around you in the last moments of the song. 
“Can you show me how to do this shit so I don’t make a total fucking ass of myself?” 
You smiled at the comment, and turned to him. Lopez. You had worked with him over your summer of training, but to say you knew him well would have been an exaggeration. 
“And you think I know what I’m doing?” You chuckled as you looked back at him. “I’m just following everyone else. It’s like a kick kick step step turn thing.” 
“Right.” Gilly was trying to catch up as he moved next to you. It was hilarious to watch but it was also nice, having someone else with you that didn’t exactly know what was happening. “Man, I wish they’d turn this country shit off.” He whispered to himself as he tried to follow along with his feet.
As the song came to a close, you spoke up to him. “Didn’t peg you as the line dancing type.” 
“I’m running a bet with the guys.” He pointed back to his group of friends. “Longest one to stay out on the dance floor, actually trying, gets their tab taken care of.” 
“You do realize we’re in a bar full of locals who love buying drinks for anyone in the service?” You frowned at him. 
“Yea but there’s just something really fulfilling about Timmer paying my tab off for me, you know?” He was laughing back with you. 
Now that, you understood. Timmer was a real asshole, said things that got under everyone’s skin so if that was what was on the line, you’d help Lopez out. The song changed, it slowed down. A crowd of people left the dance floor, while a new crowd also filled it. Gilly looked around and saw just one person he was in on the bet with left on the floor with someone in their arms. 
“Need a partner?” You spoke up, hand extended out to him. Out of nerves, he laughed and took your hand in his, your other arm moved to hang around his shoulder loosely as you both began swaying to the music. 
“Thanks for helping me out.” Gilly said to break the silent tension. 
“Look, anything to make Timmer get the shit end of a stick, but I’m thinking I should negotiate something out of this deal for myself.” You made a face as if you were thinking. 
“I mean, fair is fair.” Gilly said as he took the lead and moved you around the dance floor. “What’d you have in mind.” 
It was a tactic, but it worked, it had you shocked for a minute that he had taken the lead. 
“I want my tab covered, too.” There were likely a million other things you could have negotiated from this, his dessert during meal time, laundry, literally anything but you were so caught off-guard you just said something quickly. 
“Deal.” He agreed quickly. 
Both of you stopped talking and continued to move slowly, swaying back and forth, the silence between you both allowed you to hear the lyrics of the song. 
“You and me, wild and free. Way out in the woods, nobody for miles.” 
Those lyrics brought you back to the present moment, in your shared home with Gilly that way out in the woods, nobody for miles. Now, some probably would have said that was the night that started it all between you, but after those dances, and a few drinks, both of you went back to your respective bunks and didn’t speak to each other until a week later when you were both deployed to the 2nd battalion in the 75th Ranger Regiment, and well, that bonded you two differently. Those two months on the home base in Washington is where the both of you fell in love, whatever that meant for two active duty Rangers. After those 2 months, they shipped you out to your tour assignment, where things got dark. 
You stood there, getting lost in your thoughts as your brain wrapped itself around a new set of memories, ones that were heavy and hard to even think of. The memories of being on combat duty, seeing things that were burned in your mind as a souvenir of your two tours, and the one that constantly replayed in your head. The memory of being dishonorably discharged because you refused to follow orders. Before you could think further on it, you jumped at the sound of your dog barking. Your eyes moved to the driveway, the sound of the gravel crunching was mumbled under the music and the rain but it was still prevalent. The rain distorted the view out of the window, but you could see the black town car rolling down your driveway, which was otherwise empty. You lived easily 30 minutes from town or any person, neighbor, or establishment, and that was purposeful. When you got discharged, Gilly got sent backshortly after on leave with you for a week. The two of you were already married but had no place to call home and with you being done with the military, it was time to set down roots. Roots that wouldn’t push you into a PTSD fit constantly, you liked being off the beaten path, you liked being unbothered, on your own. On your own. Those three words instantly meant something completely different now as you stared at the black car in the driveway. Everyone knew the black town car pulling up, unexpected, to the home was the news. The news no one wanted to get, but being deployed yourself prepared you for it in a way that explained the solitude in your heart and lack of panic. You moved away from the window before anyone exited the car, you took the few minutes you knew you had before someone rang the bell to kneel down and be eye to eye with your pup. 
“I wish you were going to understand what was about to happen, buddy.” Your hand scratched behind his ears. You saw his nose wiggle as he sniffed the air, and he let out a little whine while looking at you. 
You let out a sigh, and closed your eyes. That’s when the doorbell rang. As your dog ran to the door, you knelt there for 30 more seconds, preparing yourself mentally to hear the news. 
The words rattled in your brain before anyone even said them to you, it was your brain's way of preparing you before you got up to answer the door. The commandant of the Army Rangers 75th Regiment and Second Battalion has entrusted me to express his deepest regrets that your husband, Gilberto Lopez, was killed in action. It was then that you realized you’d find out when and how, and that’s when you held your breath. It’d affect you differently, because you knew the logistics of things, how to read between the lines of what was told to you. Before another thought filled your head, you were standing up and making your way to the door and opening it wide. 
Immediately your dog was out the door whining and jumping on the person in front of you. You thought you felt your breath hitch, I mean you were seeing a dead man, or what you convinced yourself in the last 5 minutes was a dead man, standing in front of you but you were frozen, until he spoke.
“Hey buddy boy, I missed you, yea, hello.” He spoke to the dog, his backpack still on but the other bag was discarded to his right as he let your dog greet him joyfully. “You been takin’ care of our girl, right?” He said as he stood back up and you felt the breath you were holding release and suddenly you were launching into his arms. 
He let out a woah mixed in between a chuckle as he steadied himself and wrapped his arms around you to embrace you back. You both hugged for what felt like eternity, eventually he moved both of you into the house to avoid getting anymore wet from the rain. You still had your hands wrapped around his neck, your heads were next to each other when he whispered something to you.  
“What happened? I’m gone for a few months and you got that country shit playing?” 
When the laugh left your mouth it’s when you realized you were crying. 
“Hey, you’re not allowed to say that when it’s our song.” You pulled away so you could look at him now.
“See, country music’s got you crying.” His thumb moved to wipe your tears away, the smile on his face was big, he was happy to be home, happy to not be thinking about everything– anything. 
“I thought you were dead.” You said as his hands cupped your face. 
“I’m surprised I’m not.” His face hardened almost immediately as he shifted to talk to you seriously. 
“You back for good?” Staring into his eyes, you looked for an answer, but were only coming up with pain and exhaustion. 
“I’m back for good.” He nodded and moved to place his backpack down.
“It’s hard being home.” You said, hating to break the moment but you knew it was inevitable to talk about. 
“It’s hard being deployed.” Gilly answered.  
You looked into his eyes again, it was obvious to you that they were eyes that had seen a lot. You knew that since your eyes looked the same when you were sent home. The difference between him and you was he was there longer, whatever happened when you weren’t there was going to haunt him.
“Back for good.” You repeated his statement, trying to wrap your brain around what that meant, what you both were in store for but you were quickly interrupted by a kiss. 
As your eyes closed, you melted into the touch. His lips on yours brought you back in time, to your first kiss, your wedding day, then the day you were sent home, saying goodbye to him. But now he was home, and he was kissing you hello. 
“You and me, wild and free.” He said the lyrics from the song that brought you two here as he rested his forehead on yours. 
“I thought you hated country music.” 
“I fuckin’ do. But I also fuckin’ love you.”
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malinaa · 9 months
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TOP 9 BOOKS
tagged : @hmsharmony ty jennifer this was SOOO hard oh my god like. genuinely agonized me for days to think about what to choose but it was SOOO fun tho <3 tagging : @rosesau | @evcndiaz | @pendrgcn | @gayarthur | @the-tenth-arcanum | @oretsev | @wherepoetsdie | @bellamyblakru | @ryekat & anyone else who wants to do it !!! rules : list your top 9 books obviously. i cheated a little and put series as as one option because that's just who i am as a person. most of these i chose at random from my 5 star reads from the past few years btw
1. percy jackson and the olympians (series) by rick riordan
i was never a big reader in elementary school—or at least not to the extent that my classmates had been. my sixth grade english class required us to bring a personal book from home for silent reading and i stole my brother's spine-cracked copies of pjo and brought them to class. i finished the whole series in less than a school week (i had to scramble to the library to pick up another series because the single novel should have lasted me at least three weeks). pjo literally kickstarted my love for reading as a hobby and i truly don't know how to state the importance it had on my little ten-year-old brain fr
2. on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong
i have never read a book more beautiful in prose and so uncommonly human than this. there's just something so incredibly heartbreaking knowing this whole book is the narrator's letter to his mother who can't read! like what the fuck
3. alone with you in the ether by olivie blake
this came as a surprise to Me when i first read it. i meandered through the first quarter, loving the writing style but feeling disconnected from the characters until the Church Hand Scene™ and it was hook, line, and sinker at that point (i have since come to love the disconnectedness in subsequent rereads, knowing that the feeling was the Point). i have read this book four (4) times since i read it first last year. LAST YEAR!!! olivie has like... fundamentally altered my brain chemistry or something because i feel like everything i have written since having read this book has been somewhat influenced by it.
4. much ado about nothing by william shakespeare
what can i say! this is theeeeeee romcom ever. i have watched so many adaptations of this play, read it countless of times and can recite some iconic lines, and still the banter between benedick and beatrice is sooo elite. cannot be topped!!
5. a place for us by fatima farheen mirza
fun fact: seed rec'd this book to me and has been reccing it to anybody who would listen. the prose is so lush and melancholic. it's one of those books where nothing Really happens, but you feel Every Emotion Under The Sun and you're just like. altered by reading it
6. the song of achilles by madeline miller
obviously.... OBVIOUSLYYYYYYY this had to go here. if i had two nickels for every greek myth retelling i read during school that fundamentally changed me etc etc u get it. i read this as a junior in high school when we, yet again, had to bring a personal book to read durin class. i think at that point of my life, i've never read something that tragic yet so beautiful at the same time and now i am always looking at the beautiful and tragic in media. so! there u go! brain cells rewired and whatnot!
7. the grisha trilogy by leigh bardugo
this is funny because i . technically did not rate any of these books 5 stars i'm sobbing. but like, considering the fact that my url is what it is and the way i always have them in the back of my mind, it's no wonder that i put them here. i have such an odd attachment to these books and these characters. i had copies of these books since their release but didn't touch them until ... before the sab tv release which is so fucking funny. like i don't know what i would be like if i read this as a t(w)een. i would've been so fucking insufferable ngl
8. when my brother was an aztec by natalie diaz
i actually read this for an assignment and had to write a report on it and i had SO much fun doing it. diaz plays a lot with hunger and her imagery is literally unmatched. i think about the way she contructs sentences and am filled with such envy. my beginning sentence for my paper was a nod to her style (though i failed miserably). it was: "in a paradoxical sleight of hand, hunger feeds in natalie diaz's debut." she is just. so fucking good at words i need to CHOMP on it
9. sharp objects by gillian flynn
you know the thing where you see a really popular author for a really long time and they have their work adapted to the screen and it's so good but you still haven't read their actual writing? yeah, that was me with gillian flynn (specifically about gone girl). i read gone girl, i read sharp objects, i read her short story the grownup, i'm currently reading the last novel of hers that i haven't read, dark places, and flynn is just so... incredibly good at constructing harrowing stories. it's no wonder why all three of her novels got adapted to the screen! her prose is so grounded. vivid. there's this ease to her writing that, whenever i concurrently read another novel, i always find the other piece to be lacking. i slink back to flynn's prose and immerse myself in her awful, human worlds.
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bluedalahorse · 5 months
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Help Blue with her writing warm-ups!
I’m trying to finish Heart and Homeland right now, and it can be hard to get in the zone. Something I miss from grad school residency is doing warm-ups for my writing. So I am thinking I might do timed ten-minute warm-ups responding to a prompt before I launch into my H and H writing sessions each day, just to change up how I’m doing things.
But… I need your help! Here’s what I need you to do to send me a prompt.
Send me an ask with a Young Royals character and 2-3 backup characters:
Simon | Wilhelm | Sara | August | Felice | Maddie | Fredrika | Stella | Vincent | Nils | Walter & Henry | Alexander | Rosh | Ayub | Kristina
Then send me an ask with a Major Arcana tarot card and 2-3 backup tarot cards:
The Fool | The Magician | The High Priestess | The Empress | The Emperor | The Hierophant | The Lovers | The Chariot | Strength | The Hermit | Wheel of Fortune | Justice | The Hanged Man | Death | Temperance | The Devil | The Tower | The Star | The Moon | The Sun | Judgement | The World
I will use your prompt as a writing warm-up and write in response to it for ten minutes. Later I will post whatever I come up with. It may be crackfic. It may be heartfelt poetry. It might just be a few sentences or lines of dialogue. Who knows what I will come up with!
A few final notes:
I plan to use every character and every Major Arcana card once. If your first choice has already been written about, I’ll go with one of your backups.
If you pick Wilhelm or Simon as your first choice, you are not allowed to choose the other one as one of your backup characters. Sorry, friends, they’re just too popular!
Walter and Henry are together for now because I don’t feel confident enough to write them separately and I think I would have more fun writing them together first. That may change in the future.
I’ll try to get to the first five requests at least, over a series of days, but I can’t promise much after that. I’ll tag you/answer your ask when it comes though.
I reserve the right to respond to prompts in unconventional ways.
If you want to create your own ask game where people make warm up prompts for you, do it! Join meeeee. You do not have to use tarot cards, you can use paint chips or song lyrics or whatever. Writing is always best when done in community.
Have a wonderful Tuesday, everyone! 💜🌻
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faegoddessog · 1 year
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 Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 23/41
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Chapter  23: So Hot I Can't Stop
Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, cunnilingus, fingering, anal fingering (f. receiving), masturbating, squirting, unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll!)
Series Masterlist
Series Summary:
You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.
SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.
Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes  involved here. 
Chapter  23: So Hot I Can't Stop
Rita stopped by a few days ago. She Ooo’d and Ahh’d over the finished bathroom. She had called all the references you gave her, they had nothing but glowing things to say about you. She really wants you to do their house in Greece. You explained to her the timeline you are working with right now and that especially if you get the Antarctica job, it will probably be a year before you can do it. She’s cool with that.
She had asked a few questions about Austin, with a glint in her eye. You answered honestly, that you'd not seen him in a few days, even though he is graciously letting you use his kitchen. She just nodded knowingly, uh huh. She commented that Tom is totally impressed with him and that this will be his big breakthrough role. You had agreed, he is impressive, your own glint sparkling.
It’s been about 5 days since you’ve seen Austin. A couple times, you think he came in late at night and slept curled around you for a few hours. The dent in the pillow next to you in the morning was a tell-tale sign.
Since you are using his kitchen, you made a dinner plate for him and left it in his fridge with a note each night. It’s gone every morning, so you know he’s been home. You passed a few texts between you each day, but you have both been busy.
Today is painting day.
You are decked out in your preferred outfit for painting: a white tank top and panties, plus mask and goggles and noise canceling earbuds. You finish spraying the last wall and stop to dance and sing to the song playing in your ears.
“It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me”
You look up and see Austin is leaning on the front door, arms crossed, watching you with a grin on his face, key dangling on his finger.
“And I’m feeling good!” you sing the last line at him and laugh.
He looks delicious in a white t-shirt and tan slacks. He is barefoot.
“How long have you been there?” you ask in a mask-muffled voice, taking out your earbuds.
“Long enough.” he laughs, looking you up and down, “Not that I’m complaining, but why are you mostly naked, you are covered in little specks of paint!”
You take off your goggles and mask and shrug, “It’s hot and paint is easier to get off of skin than clothes if you moisturize correctly.”
You motion for him to follow you to the bathroom, where you begin to clean your paint sprayer.
“You continually amaze me with how sexy you make construction,” he says in that deep, low rumble that causes you to involuntarily moan a bit in the back of your throat.
“Thanks babe, want to help me wash it off?” you offer, looking over your shoulder coyly and tilting your head to the shower. You know you are a mess, dried paint smudges all over and hair in a bespeckled bun.
“Not yet, I don’t think you are dirty enough yet,” he comes up behind you, looking at you in the mirror and snaking his hands around your ribs and cupping your breasts through the thin fabric. Your nipples start to harden in his palms.
“Oh, well let me finish cleaning this real quick,’” you start rinsing as quickly as you can. “Take your time, I’ll be right here,” his thumbs graze your nipples.
You consider abandoning the sprayer, but you know you have to clean it before it gets clogged.
His hands are roaming all around your body, stoking the fire in your core as you twist off the paint cup and start rinsing. His hands sliding on your ass cheeks and around to the front, over your belly and down. The pads of his long fingers running along the crease between your leg and pussy, teasing.
You are frantically scrubbing out the nozzle with an old toothbrush.
His thumbs hook onto your panties and slide them down and off. Your hands are full of watery paint and there is nothing you can do to stop him, as if you’d want to. He traces a line up your thigh and over your hips. You can feel little callouses from his guitar playing on his left hand. His dexterous fingers gently glide over your now naked labia, pressing them together just a bit at the root.
You moan in the back of your throat. You love the feel of his hands on you, how he knows all your little tantalizing spots. You have stopped trying to clean your damn paint sprayer and rinse the paint off your hands.
He continues up your ribs, catching your tank top and pulling it over your head.
You go to turn around to kiss him. He stops you and places your hands on the counter, staring at your eyes in the mirror.
“You keep those hands right there,” he says in your ear, “don't move them.”
Shivers course down your spine.
You are standing, completely naked, hands on the counter as he reaches around to cup and rub your breasts, pinching your nipples and pushing his fully clothed hips against your back side.
You feel his rigid length through his loose slacks. You start to reach back to rub him.
He grabs your wrists and presses your hands back to the counter.
“Now, now, I told you to keep them there. If you move them again I’ll stop. Understand?” He growls, hot breath on your neck. His eyes are serious, his brows slightly furrowed.
You nod.
“Now be a good dirty girl and spread your legs," oh god his voice is fucking amazing in your ear.
You step to each side and wetness starts to seep between your lower lips.
His right hand traces down your back, over the crack of your ass to those lips. His hands are magic. You can’t help but press your hips back towards him.
“Oh my, so wet. Do you like being all naked and exposed to me?” he dips a gentle finger barely into you and spreads that wetness around.
“Yes, I do,” you say a little breathlessly as he nears your clit.
“Mmmm, I like it too. What to do with such a dirty girl,” he spreads the wetness back toward your asshole. He is watching your reactions reflected back at him.
You stare back at his eyes, lifting an eyebrow. “Anything you want,” you boldly declare licking and biting your bottom lip. You spread your legs a little wider, arching and offering yourself to his whim.
He steps back, you make a little sound of disappointment. He rubs his chin between his forefinger and thumb, pinching his full bottom lip, considering his options. He looks your back side up and down, then at your naked reflection in the mirror, all the while absentmindedly rubbing his cock through his pants with his other hand. Then he sits down between your legs with his back to the cabinet. His face is perfectly positioned at your dripping cunt.
“This is what I want," he says, looking up, capturing you with those stunning eyes of his, “keep your hands there.”
His tongue tastes the slickness between your legs and he emits a low throaty growl of pleasure. His fingers open your folds to reveal your nub. He gently licks around your clit as he slowly slides his long fingers inside of you, curving them just a little.
You moan, eyes closed, head back.
He starts to use a flat tongue to lap and suck your clit as he glides in and out of you slowly. You look down, his eyes are closed. His head is gently moving and rolling as he doles out pleasure with his tongue, receiving as much as he is giving. Just watching him indulge in your snatch, is almost as arousing as what he is doing. Add in the quietly depraved noises he is making, and you are in heaven.
He stops licking, pulls his fingers out and presses the thumb on his other hand into your wet slit. Then slides it back to your asshole and looks up at you inquiringly. He is ever the gentleman.
Your eyes widen with excitement, the only response you can muster is nodding frantically.
Grinning at you, he rubs the pad of this thumb on your asshole. The nerve endings there are bringing new zinging sensations to your pelvic floor. Gently he pushes his wet thumb into you.
Your hips are yearning towards his face, silently begging for his tongue. He complies, face buried in your pussy, extraordinary tongue dancing on your folds and clit. You relax to let his thumb in. His other fingers slide back into your pussy and you feel him get to his first knuckle or so in your ass.
“Oh. My. Gods. That is so fucking good," you say in a desperate whisper as he moves both hands in and out alternatively, slowly at first. You start twitching your hips into his lashing tongue.
“Harder, please harder,” you moan.
“There’s my dirty girl,” he says huskily against your folds.
He captures your swollen clit in his mouth and starts sucking as his fingers pound into you. You feel a tell tale fullness inside you.
Gripping the counter to keep from collapsing, you start to go over the edge. A wail rips through your throat as your juices flood his face and hands, squirting down onto his still clothed body. He slows down his pace, but is lapping the sweet liquid from your lips, making you twitch in aftershocks. He pulls back, his face and shirt so wet.
He stands up in front of you, forcing you to take a step back, hands still on the counter. Turning around, he quickly washes his hands in the paint covered sink, Your forehead pressed against his back, you shake and shiver. Wiping his chin, he steps to the side, breaking your grip on the counter, pulling you directly in front of him.
His wet fingers are unzipping his fly and he takes out his hard-as-rock cock. He has an animalistic look on his face of deep need and desire. He can’t even be bothered to take off the clothes you soaked.
He pushes you back with a growl, kissing you fiercely and picking you up onto the counter between the double vanity sinks. He slides his cock into your pussy and groans. He grips your hips and begins to thrust into you.
You thought you were done, but as he fills you over and over again you feel that exquisite fullness. You reach down and rub your clit side to side.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod” you are whispering. With a high pitched whine you push, he pulls out and your deluge stains the front of his pants dark and wet.
“Don’t stop,” You reach down and slide him into you again, “I need you more.”
“So. fucking. hot.” he says, each word punctuated with a thrust.
His pace quickens, slamming into you over and over.
His eyes close and a deep rough grunting moan escapes him as he plunges into you and shakes. The hands on your hips gripping hard as he cums inside you.
Seeing him come makes you grind your hips up and down on his cock, You have hit insatiable mode. He is shivering as you ride his still hard cock.
“No, no, no,” you beg as he pulls his cock out, your hips are shaking.
One eyebrow goes up and he smiles, panting. He pets your pussy teasingly, “Did you miss me, do you want these in you Kitten?”
Your jaw is tight, nostrils flared, that demon in you is about to eat him alive. You grab his fingers and push them into your pussy, sopping wet with his cum and your squirting.
“Fuck that pussy hard,” you demand, locking eyes with him. He leans over the counter, grabbing you by the back of the neck, his long fingers squeezing the sides. Putting his forehead to yours, he slams his fingers into you.
“Come on, dirty girl. Cum again for me. No, don't close your eyes, look right at me,” his voice is raspy and demanding.
You are rubbing your clit, hard, clenching your pussy onto his fingers. Lying back onto the marble, legs spread wide with the hottest man on the planet begging you to cum and forcing you to stare into his soul.
“Oh, fuck fuck FUUUUUHH”, you scream as you squirt a fountain over his hand, the counter, his stomach, as you come completely undone. Your whole body shivers and shakes and all you can see are his blue ocean eyes.
You aren’t sure where he ends and you begin as he slides his still hard cock into you again. Nirvana, Euphoria.
“God damn Kitten, you got me so fucking hot I can’t stop,” he pummels your drenched pussy. He goes, and goes, and goes almost savagely. Sweat is dripping off his face and onto your belly. You aren’t sure if you ever stopped cumming. All you can do is ride the wave and moan.
He finally pulls out and strokes his cock standing over you, his voice a strangled roar. Your hips are writhing as you rub yourself, you don’t have any more to gush, but the feeling of his cum surging onto your naked lips and belly sends you over a different precipice as you explode into pieces.
Neither of you have any words, heaving, shuddering. He holds you to earth, bent over you with his forehead back on yours. After a minute or two, he pulls you off the counter and to your feet, gathering you in his arms.
As your breathing slows, you notice he is still dressed in sopping clothes.
“Sorry about your clothes, I guess you are just as dirty as I am now,” you lazily giggle.
“Oh no, that was worth it,” he smiles at you, letting his pants drop and stripping his shirt off, “now we can shower.”
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n7punk · 11 months
Text
“Children of the Crystal” Fic Notes Season Two
Children of the Crystal is “officially” done! I still might go back and add short (non-plot) fics set in this verse further down the line, but the story is all wrapped up at a monster 14 (15) fics.
I split the fic notes into two “seasons” just because there’s a lot to cover, so the other post has notes for the first 6 fics. This one has the playlist, the notes for the rest of the fics, and discussion of the original outline/plan. This fic series doesn’t get an “epilogue” section because I’m keeping all those ideas in my back pocket in case I end up doing fics on them.
Playlist:
Haha so. This series had a playlist that was originally like seven songs long. Then I couldn’t sleep one day, and suddenly this story had a plot(??) and the playlist exploded. I’ll cover the plot thing later, but here’s the finished playlist (I also listened to my canon Catra, Adora, and Catradora playlists while writing this).
Just Friends — Morgan Saint
Illusion — Carlie Hanson
WASTE OF CONFETTI — Meg Myers
S.T.A.R. — Mothica
hallelujah — Bea Miller
For God’s Sake — Morgan Saint
Highlights — Mothica
Crazy Bitch — Sizzy Rocket feat. Mothica
feel like shit — Tate McRae
Once More, With Feeling! — XANA
Battle demo [not released to the public. Listen, the vibe is “I don’t want to fight you, but if that’s what you’re going to do, then let’s go”]
Jealousy — Pale Waves
i did this all for you! — XANA
Two Sides — Ari Hicks (this one is for Light Hope, because I think I’m funny)
I Don’t Believe In Anything — Deathbyromy (THIS IS SUCH AN ADORA SONG OK)
I’m Trying (Not Friends) — Maisie Peters (aka the fic 13 song)
Only Love [Acoustic] — PVRIS
General Notes:
⦁ For the ease of future rereads, the big plot heavy-hitter fics are (generally) every other fic: 1, 3, 5, maybe 7, 8, 10, 12, maybe 13, and 14. I was intentionally spacing them out (as best I could) so there would be a plot beat, then something that fleshed out the universe/characters, then another plot beat, but that wasn’t always the best thing for the series so there’s exceptions.
⦁ Several of the fic titles from this series are inspired/from lyrics from a couple of songs. They are as follows: The “Crystal Kingdom” song from The Adventure Zone led to the fic titles “Beckoning to Break the Seal,” “Locked in a Cage of Glass and Steel,” and “This Is Where Separation Ends.” I listened to that way back in the day and that song stuck with me for some reason. I thought about it again after naming the fic Children of the Crystal cuz. you know. Crystal. i did this all for you! by XANA is the origin of “Carve Your Name in My Bones.” Full lyric: [in my brain] I love what you’ve done with the place/really made it your own/carved your name in my bones. “I’d Die Just to Be Someone” is a lyric from Crazy Bitch by Sizzy Rocket (feat. Mothica). (Side note: can anyone tell me if Sizzy Rocket is a terf? One of the people she has a feature track with has a sus line) The fic and chapter titles of “One of Us Has to Keep a Promise” come from I’m Trying (Not Friends) by Maisie Peters. These are the only chapter titles in the entire series not in title case. More info on songs and lyrics later >.> Finally, “Once More, With Feeling” is a XANA song (on the playlist, too) that’s actually not happy but the title was a great fit for them returning home and falling back into their relationship with a lot more peace and happiness between them.
Locked in a Cage of Glass and Steel
Chapter 1:
⦁ God the ENTIRE series was leading up to this fic. I wrote it all in one sitting. Actually, I wrote the final chapter of Halls That Make a Home, all of this fic, and all but the last two scenes of Carve Your Name in My Bones in the same day. I wrote 12.7k words that day, my highest single-day word count ever (my previous being 12.1k, which was insane and not at all usual. My average word count is 2k a day).
⦁ I guess I leave it a little ambiguous (mostly because other people lie about it), but what happened with Entrapta was that Scorpia had bonded HARD with her, so when Shadow Weaver attacked Entrapta to stop her from trying to free the captured princesses, Scorpia turned on the Horde. She can’t exactly feel for a pulse with her pincers, though, and she thought Entrapta was dead. She then freed the rest of the princesses, and when they went to recover the sword, Shadow Weaver had roused to tell Hordak that Scorpia took the side of the princesses, bonded with the garnet, and killed Entrapta in the process. He didn’t believe her, but then Scorpia showed up leading the charge of princesses into his sanctum, crackling with electricity. So he pulled the lever.
Chapter 2:
⦁ I talked about this a little in the first author’s note, but figuring out the set-up of the portal is… interesting. I think the wider fandom has kind of agreed it has something to do with who pulls the lever? Like the portal was built around Catra’s wishes? Which makes sense, IG, but it could easily be a collective thing, or just a weird mindfuck, or Adora could have some control over it too because it’s her sword powering it. Personally I think it’s a mix of all of that, but for this fic I went with the idea that it’s the person who pulls the lever, because in canon I find the angst of Catra’s “perfect world” being one where Catra is still just “second best” but it doesn’t matter to her anymore because Adora is there absolutely delicious.
⦁ In the show, the Portal was kind of “an easy sell” because Adora did know a life in the Horde, and all the Bright Moon stuff was just a recent divergence. Everybody was pretty much “with their own” in the portal, Bow in Bright Moon, Catra and Adora in the Horde, etc. In this portal, a bunch of the princesses were locked up in the Fright Zone (because they… were in the Fright Zone IRL when it was set off) and Catra and Adora found themselves transposed into this foreign world so everything would be simple for Hordak and his greatest nemesis were now working for them. The portal bridged that gap by co-opting their memories. Instead of running and playing in the woods, they were fighting rebels in them. They remembered how fighting felt from when they would fight the Horde, but when they were actually forced to fight rebels in the portal, it all felt completely wrong. The other way the portal tried to form its perfect world was by giving Adora what she always wanted: freedom from duty. She wasn’t She-ra and there was no magic destiny to weigh down on her shoulders. As much as she will deny it and doesn’t even believe it, that’s what she wants. She wants to just be able to live her life and be useful, yes, but not have the weight of the planet on her.
Chapter 3:
⦁ Before I even started posting this series, I posted “sorry” because I had just outlined this wallowing scene and Catra deciding to go to the Horde. Obviously I’ve written breakups, self-loathing, etc in the past, but I felt like I was really lulling y’all into a false sense of security with this AU. It doubly applied since I had already outlined the AU’s end, too.
⦁ Because that was such an early outline, though, in that outline scene Catra discovered for the first time that Light Hope could appear in the room they thought was private. I ended up including that earlier in the series, because it’s not much of a reveal if you don’t already know that she’s not supposed to be able to do that and I thought her having the realization when they weren’t together yet but had said some Things in the privacy of the room worked better.
⦁ Btw, Light Hope did “usually” try to leave them alone in the room, especially when they were kids and her overwrite instructions hadn’t been fully installed by a reset, but she absolutely was intending to lie to them when she said she couldn’t listen to that room. It was not a misunderstanding. Those happened sometimes, but a lot of “misunderstandings” were intentional.
⦁ I considered giving Catra a breakdown haircut in this because those are fun, and by “considered” I mean I did and then I read the scene I just wrote and went. This is scary. Like I actually felt I couldn’t include it without a significant trigger warning and what the hell even is that trigger aside from Bitch Not Well so I cut it.
⦁ I had a whole freak out with the end of this fic and whether or not it made sense. Basically, I wrote the first scene of On Stumbling Feet way before this. A consequence of that (and how long-held my headcanon for Halfmoon is) is that I just completely fucking forgot whether Halfmoon running under the Fright Zone was established. I tried to put in more hints to it in the scene itself (stuff like the mentions of their last entrance being patched up) and went back to the fic where Catra calls herself the last of the magicats to edit in more context for future reads, only to find I already outright said there that Halfmoon was near the Fright Zone. I edited the wording slightly to make it more clear it was under, but I mostly panicked for nothing.
Carve Your Name in My Bones [one shot]
⦁ I’ve talked a couple of times about this AU being where I was able to finally put my backstory headcanons for them, but they did have to be tweaked to accommodate the story. For Catra, I imagine she was just scooped off Halfmoon’s street at a battle like this and brought back to the Fright Zone. Halfmoon being the mine beneath the Fright Zone is my headcanon, but not it being connected to the Crystal Castle or anything. I did that mostly to get around 1) Light Hope would have had the foyer door locked when Adora was that age so she couldn’t get out at all to help Catra if there wasn’t another way since that blocks off the override too and 2) to force Catra back through castle when leaving the Fright Zone. The original outline called for her trying to “confront” Light Hope, which I feel would be justified considering she had emotional ties to her just like Adora in this AU, but it would be pretty dangerous and a little stupid, so making it just be something she was forced to do made more sense.
⦁ Rescuing Catra was the first time Adora had left the castle since she was a baby. Feeling the surface of the rock was really shocking to her after being used to the perfectly smooth surfaces of the castle, only broken up by the texture of her bed and clothes. Everything else is metal or crystal. Catra introduces something as simple as touch to her life, that’s how incredibly isolated she was.
⦁ Catra’s parents in this are the same ones I made up for her in TTFT, Leona and Felina. Only one of them is actually her biological parent (magic inception, common for gay couples on Etheria) so Leona has Catra’s heterochromia this time to pass it down.
I’d Die Just to Be Someone
Chapter 1:
⦁ Shadow Weaver was willing to believe Catra’s story pretty easily given she defected to the Horde for similarly petty reasons, but willing is different from believing and she knew there was a chance it was a ploy, or she could be flipped again, which is why she went in hard on her immediately. Shadow Weaver was also dying and losing her shit anyway.
⦁ Hordak growling and Catra commenting (internally) on it was because he’s an alien clone and like, reminiscent of an elf, sure, but actually has his own rules to play by.
⦁ The story Shadow Weaver told Hordak was that Scorpia turned on them and let the princesses in because she wanted to take her powers, and when she did she electrocuted Entrapta (it was implied to not be an accident). It’s kind of a ridiculous sell if you know anything about Scorpia, but Hordak barely knew her name, and when he saw her using lightning powers and fighting alongside the princesses, it checked out, especially with her leaving afterwards.
⦁ Shadow Weaver was desperately trying to either 1) break Scorpia’s connection with the Garnet so she could begin using it again or 2) find a way to siphon energy off of it with Scorpia still connected to it. If Catra hadn’t shown up, she probably would have gathered herself up after her collapse and tried to slip away to Rebellion and trade “insider intel” in exchange for healing, but with Catra calling a medic, and them taking her under observation, she never had a chance. And… yeah, she wasn’t looking good and we don’t see her again. Read into that! (If you are interested, though, her story would have been that she worked with the Horde out of fear for her life as she needed the Black Garnet to live, trying to gain an ounce of sympathy, and then she would have tried to trade Entrapta’s location for healing. To them she would have said Hordak sent Entrapta to Beast Island when he heard of her treachery.)
⦁ Grizzlor gets to take over Shadow Weaver’s job because in the original show he was the… warden? Boss? BGIC? of the Beast Island prison. It was either him, Octavia, or Lonnie in this version, but I didn’t have room to throw in Lonnie being promoted to Force Captain in Scorpia’s place (though it definitely happened) and it feels like Octavia isn’t very respected considering the eye thing and that she still sleeps with the cadets.
Chapter 2:
⦁ When Catra mentions trying to line up to whisper in Adora’s ear during the fight, I wanted to leave it ambiguous if she was trying to gloat, but she was actually looking for any opening to tell the Princess Alliance that Entrapta was alive. She was always on missions with other people and the least trusted person on the squad, though, so she couldn’t even try to work it into a “taunt” to pass off because it wasn’t common knowledge and would give away that she was sneaking around.
⦁ Catra’s recognition of the hex-sided screwdriver is because she did spend enough — friendly — time around Entrapta in this universe to pick that kind of thing up.
⦁ When Catra says she “hasn’t managed to do anything about” the transport log, she means both that she hasn’t figured out where Entrapta was sent and she hasn’t managed to tell the Alliance she was live at all.
Chapter 3: Interlude
⦁ This wasn’t supposed to be here but I was thinking about how Adora must be feeling and then I was like maybe I have to write a one shot about this…. So I just stuck it in as an interlude.
⦁ Let’s! Talk! About! The Alliance! Okay, so like, Catra is right, they really should have known better that she wouldn’t go join up with the people who just murdered her friend and kinda-pseudo parental figure, but there’s a reason they “accepted” her defection. First of all, they were already annoyed with her for disappearing (though everyone was equally, if not more, annoyed with Adora for being a fucking idiot). Being mad at someone makes it a lot easier to believe the worst of them. Second, they had already experienced Entrapta’s defection, which was feeling more and more like a true defection as Scorpia told stories about her in the Horde, even though it was a kind of halfway thing for her. Third, Adora and Catra were really codependent, like ridiculously unhealthily so, but it had never been something they needed to work on when Catra and Adora were “doing fine” and there was a war on. When Adora broke her heart, it was possible Catra totally snapped because neither of them knew how to be a person — or even what a person really was — without each other. Four, several of them had picked up the vibe that Catra had some bitterness over Adora’s magic destiny from comments she made over time. And like, they weren’t wrong, that is what spurred her to go to the Horde, she just wasn’t joining them. And then five, of course: they were fighting her and watching her not respond to their attempts to talk. No matter what you believe, when you have enough evidence in front of you, eventually you have to give. None of that should erase the fact they knew Catra was a good person, and especially that she should want to destroy the Horde more than ever at that moment rather than joining up since they had just killed her friend, but just like they shouldn’t be too mad at her, Catra can’t be too mad at them when she didn’t tell anyone. Them believing someone they know is a good person would do Very Bad Things is kind of a commentary on how sometimes they struggle to be good friends, like how they get annoyed with Entrapta and both sides have to learn how to accommodate each other in the show.
⦁ Adora not walking all the way into the entry and leaving immediately kind of saved the planet here. With her first visit, it was quick and she got further into the castle, but Light Hope was willing to wait until a second visit before she went as drastic as locking her in, because it was going to be pretty hard to talk her into setting the Heart off at that point. This time, Adora didn’t get past the large door that could seal the main chamber from the entry walkway (the door that was closed when she and Catra were little, and that Catra squeezed through in The Start of a Legend). Light Hope technically could override the outside door, but she wasn’t prepared to do that, especially when she couldn’t do anything about the override door Adora could easily slip through. Honestly, she anticipated Adora’s breakdown taking longer and being able to use her fragile emotional state to manipulate her, but instead Adora fucking booked it away from the terrible memories and guilt.
⦁ It wasn’t fair, but one of the reason’s Glimmer was mad at Adora was for everything Catra did while defecting. They were friends, after all, and Adora breaking up with her is what drove her away, so even though Glimmer was already mad at Adora for the shitty breakup, she was also mad at them both for every shitty thing Catra did while defected because they shared the blame to her. It was more aimed at Catra since she was the one, you know, doing it, but Glimmer has a proxy-blaming problem (see: her partially blaming Adora for her mom’s death) so she was mad at them both.
Chapter 4:
⦁ Shadow Weaver “limping off to die” was actually her trying to sneak off to the Rebellion for survival.
⦁ The dent on Emily’s hull is this-universe’s version of the scratches. Emily tried to go into Hordak’s lab trying to find Entrapta after she “died” and Hordak grew enraged at the sight of her as a reminder. He threw the closest object at her and made the dent. She skittered away still not knowing what happened to Entrapta, but she picked it up soon after.
⦁ Emily has seen Catra before, back in that single battle where Entrapta got captured, but she’s dressed differently and on the other side, and it was possible there were multiple people named Catra, so she wanted to “verify” by showing Catra the projection.
⦁ I (Catra) shifted over the course of the chapter from calling Emily “it” to “she” to show how Catra was bonding with her. Using feminine pronouns for her did make it more confusing (which “she” is this she referring to, etc), but Catra really needed something to latch onto, so anthropomorphizing Emily hit hard.
⦁ I fucked up here. I came up with a cool idea literally the day after posting the chapter. Catra should have tried to take some of the files on the Heart so the Horde doesn’t find them, get caught sneaking out, and have to choose between keeping them or helping Emily to safety. She would choose Emily, ensuring the files fell into Horde hands and leaving her certain that Hordak — and thus Horde Prime — knows about the Heart when he arrives. Unfortunately, I only came up with that while writing fic 13. It’s a causality of posting as you write, even though I was ahead.
On Stumbling Feet (Find Your Home) [one shot]
⦁ Because this fic takes place before the last few, Catra is still under the mistaken impression that fire played a big part in Halfmoon’s downfall. The problem with this series is a lot of people are lying or just straight up wrong and so they contradict each other or even themselves a lot and I worry it looks sloppy when it’s intentional, just kind of misleading. I actually wrote the Halfmoon report scene before I even wrote the get together fic and wasn’t sure where I was going to stick it but had the idea for a “catch all” snippets fic possibly in the future.
⦁ Adora’s language around “manifesting” is because it’s one of those words/concepts that are new to her, since that scene is set fairly early on, like a few months in.
⦁ Adora saying “She’s going to need to hold onto these moments for the future.” just really goes to show that she can’t even let herself have good moments purely for the sake of them, but rather has to categorize how they could be useful to justify them. This girl needs therapy so bad.
⦁ The make out scene basically exists to tease Adora’s access to her powers without the sword. Obviously, canon shows her powers predate the sword, but with her runestone trapped. Originally the idea was that it would be a little one shot, but then it was brief enough of an idea to use in something like this. I ended up giving a “preview” to this kind of thing with her glowing eyes in the library fic, but she still had the sword (literally) on her then, so this showed that “disconnect” for the first time. Otherwise, this fic would be the kind of filler/fluff I would stick at the end of the series as “not part of the plot arc,” but that particular scene needed to be read before fic 14, so it ended up in the main arc. A little fluff was also desperately needed here.
⦁ The make out predates the scene in the library with her eyes glowing, but Adora still called that new because it had never been tied to anger before, and she didn’t fully understood what her eyes were doing in this scene. What she caught in the mirror was just them being extra blue.
A Thousand Years in the Making
Chapter 1:
⦁ The “true colors” in the fic description do refer to how Light Hope turns on them, but also to how she really does love them and wants to protect them from her own programming.
⦁ “The failsafe would kill the user” and Catra’s resulting “Wait.” reaction were actually because Light Hope was — in the only way she could — trying to help. She was informing Catra both of the risks and that it would work by explicitly not saying that it wouldn’t, since that’s the most logical way to dissuade its use.
Chapter 2:
⦁ The language Adora uses to describe the moving of Etheria in the library fic was carefully chosen to conflict but in a believable way with what Light Hope says here. Adora says “Mara made Light Hope move the planet,” which is what her impression of the situation was, in the sense that Mara ordered it, but what Light Hope actually says here was that Mara forced her hand and made her move the planet for everyone’s safety. Of course, that’s a total lie and Mara moved the planet without Light Hope’s consent, but it was part of the narrative needed to reach Light Hope’s goal of getting Etheria back where it should be so they can set the bomb off.
⦁ In the show what (kinda) breaks through to Light Hope is Adora mentioning Mara, which is a really cool moment I fucking love and was sad to strip away, but in this one it just made more sense for Adora to use their own bond since they had a deep one and she never discovered a lot about Mara without the signal tower.
Chapter 3:
⦁ This was the one and only time that Catra ever referred to Light Hope in a maternal way. She doesn’t really see her like that but she also… doesn’t… not see her like that, you know? Light Hope was her guardian, not her mom, but especially with the wound of Glimmer losing her mom recently, that’s what spilled out.
One of Us Has to Keep a Promise
Chapter 1:
⦁ I vagueposted lyrics from the song “I’m Trying (Not Friends)” when I was thinking obsessively about Catra’s “betrayal” twist and then untwist. The chorus really works for the clusterfuck that their relationship becomes and those two lyrics in particular were feeding my brainrot so hard I could not shut up. The urge to drop songs on the playlist that were massive spoilers and hinted at what was to come was so hard to fight. At one point I almost just posted “CotC spoilers: there’s XANA on the fic playlist” because like. if you know XANA’s music that is a spoiler. She has very few happy or wholesome songs. Most of them are breakup songs or intense shit that still implies a hot and heavy relationship like Catra and Adora don’t appear to have in this series. I was going absolutely nuts keeping all this to myself and knowing for about 7~ fics everything was going to look Fine and then it was getting insane. I then vagueposted again with lyrics from “Crazy Bitch” later thinking about Catra’s “betrayal” because this fic had a vice grip on my brain. For a while I was writing like 4-6k every other day with 1-2k in between and it still wasn’t enough to get it out.
Chapter 2:
⦁ The reason Prime hit the surface so hard and then pulled back was because he was planning on wiping out the planet and all its residents completely to cover up Hordak’s messy rebellion (as he says in the show before Catra interrupts his plan by telling him about the Heart, so he’ll spare Etheria), but he pulled back as speculated when he became aware of the Heart and its potential uses.
⦁ The position they’re sitting in while discussing their relationship in Catra’s tent is a mirror of the one they sat in while listening to music right after they came together as kids back in Carve Your Name in My Bones.
⦁ “She wants to ask Adora if she’s sure she loved her the way that Catra loved her, but while she can walk into the Horde ready to face any danger, she’s still a fucking coward when it comes to things that matter.” Yeah so Catra is saying her life matters less to her than whether or not Adora loved her here. Which is totally healthy and normal and she for sure doesn’t need therapy.
⦁ Catra eating the bread instead of throwing it back like she normally would have done is a result of both her imprisonment and her few weeks on the run/digging through Halfmoon. She’s also aware they’re running on rations and would probably be more conscientious even if she wasn’t painfully aware how important real food is at the moment.
Chapter 3:
⦁ Glimmer is basically bribing/guilting them BOTH to stay in camp using each other, because really they both need to recover, and everybody needs to fall into sync again before going out in the field together.
This is What Separation Ends
Chapter 1:
⦁ The title here has so many different implications. As I said earlier, it’s a lyric from Crystal Kingdom, but it pulls triple duty. It’s “separation” (being broken up) ending between Adora and Catra, it’s separation between Adora and She-ra ending with the breaking of the sword, and it’s separation between wider worlds ending as Horde Prime is defeated and they’re all finally free.
⦁ This first chapter was actually all stuff that was supposed to happen in One of Us Has to Keep a Promise. Then I was just… too into the whole breakup/deflection/come back together concept and the fic ended up expanding a lot from the initial concept of “quick slice of awkwardness with them on the same side again now it’s all hands on deck fighting the Horde” (exact quote from my outline doc). Yeah more was needed by the time we got there and I wanted to write more anyway lol.
⦁ Their time going back to be alone in the tent… Man, even I don’t know what they did in there LOL. I will say I did consider having them have an implied “end of the world, plus weeks of tension with their relationship” hook up, but them just cuddling and being needy also makes sense. Making out like they did in the last fic makes sense. They definitely kissed at least once in that tent, but the rest I wouldn’t be able to say definitively without actually writing it and feeling it out.
⦁ Okay, in Castaspella’s defense, Catra was very convincing, and Casta let Shadow Weaver of all people lead her off alone without telling anyone so I think this is in character for her lol. Catra basically went “yep, Adora was 100% dead and She-ra brought her back to life in the Heart, so she can heal someone else when they use the failsafe, but we don’t know if the failsafe will destroy She-ra if she did it herself, and we can’t risk that.” In this verse, they’re very aware that only a First One can be She-ra and they’re fucked without Adora. That, combined with some guilt-tripping and the valid point that they need a tiny strike team if they’re going to have any chance of infiltrating Mystacor (and that either Castaspella or Micah has to be on said team if they’re going to have a chance), convinced Castaspella to go. Catra said she would leave the message with Emily to deliver a few hours after they left to ensure they got in and out before the Alliance could catch up and ruin the plan by immediately getting caught (because let’s be real, that’s what would happen). The Mystacor infiltration was way more high stakes with a lot higher chance of failure without Melog by their side to camouflage them, so this was riiiiisky, but they didn’t have a lot of options.
Chapter 2:
⦁ Adora’s powers didn’t exactly get an upgrade post-alignment, but her perception of She-ra did, and that allowed her tap deeper into her, which is what led to stuff like the shooting blast, especially on complete accident.
⦁ So I did (briefly) consider having Catra get chipped here and Prime commanding her to walk off the cliff instead of the stabbing. TBH, I just wanted to do my own thing without retreading so much ground from the show (which was kind of my whole philosophy when it came to this AU) and there wasn’t much point to it anyway since Catra would be chipped and unchipped within hours. It seemed far more logical to me that Prime would just kill her, keeping her alive only long enough to utilize her to get the sword. He wasn’t going to risk keeping the failsafe (Catra) alive long enough to really go through her memories, so chipping her didn’t have much use, and leaving her unchipped seemed like more effective blackmail (because who would want back their loved one when they know they’re indoctrinated? Somebody who understands love, you idiot).
⦁ In the initial outline of this chapter that I did a month and a half ago (lol), Prime didn’t stab her, instead just throwing her off the cliff. But. I mean. The drama. I had to go with stabbing. The fact he was doing it with Adora’s sword, which is supposed to be the home to a goddess of healing and protection but has been perverted and turned into a destructive weapon waiting to end the world, was just too poetic.
⦁ Okay okay okay. The sword-shattering thing. I have written that into two AUs now. The first one was an idea I came up with in October 2020 and was definitely destined to just be one of those “talk about it with your friends in Discord and never actually write” AUs, and then again into… well one that didn’t end up happening. Then this AU came around and I realized I could finally use the idea. In each iteration of it, the circumstance was entirely different and the reason why the sword had to break was a little different too (Adora needing healing beyond the sword’s capabilities and She-ra’s power surging into her; being too far away from it to save the world; and needing to heal Catra leading to agony surging her power past the sword’s breaking point), so it always felt fresh and exciting while also being something that I was excited to finally incorporate because the drama. I was refreshing my inbox all day after posting this chapter because I love the end of it so much and I wanted to see people’s reactions.
⦁ Okay but what are the mechanics of it, I hear you not asking. Well, I’ll tell you. So one, my headcanon is that the sword was forged using the Heart for realsies, not just in this AU. Like I said, I was able to shove a lot of my headcanons into this AU because it was actually reasonable for them to have discovered that stuff in this ‘verse. Anyway, She-ra’s runestone was as old as the other runestones and used to work like them too where she just had to be magically connected to it, not physically, to use her powers, but it was placed in the sword’s hilt so the sword could “impose order” on She-ra. Basically, the Sword of Protection was supposed to keep her locked as a First One and give her a “weakness” in the form of making her tied to a physical object. If She-ra becomes a problem, just take the sword away and she’s gone. The sword is old, though, and She-ra’s magic is very powerful. Adora has been in a lot of tight spots before, but none of them as devastating as this, and her connection with She-ra is strong now. If Catra had died the same day that Adora got the sword, it probably wouldn’t have worked like this, but between knowing the sword is just an object now and the strength of her powers, she could reach for She-ra’s runestone even with it locked inside the sword. When she grabbed that connection is when the magic started manifesting around her, but she still couldn’t transform with the sword around it despite trying and trying. So She-ra broke the lock.
⦁ Oh yeah, what actually happened when Adora was going a little insane. As soon as Catra fell, her friends started fighting and the clones that had parted for Adora rushed her. They made the mistake of trying to hold her down and pull her away from Catra, though. That’s when her eyes started glowing. As she internally spiraled and fought against the hands, she started to glow, and the power began to swirl around her. Pretty quickly, some clones were forced to let go, and others were knocked away. The remaining ones were knocked flat when she went full power-aura a la Save The Cat, and then she screamed, it did actually cause a minor local earthquake, and then she transformed.
Chapter 3:
⦁ Remember She-ra’s earthquake powers? Because Adora certainly doesn’t seem to with how little she uses them in the show LOL. Okay, but that feeds into my “full power She-ra” thing. In episode two where Adora does that, she’s kind of… overtaken by the avatar of She-ra. She’s almost mechanical in movement, she’s absolutely glowing with power like a beacon… you know, the stuff she was doing here. She-ra definitely has a deeper power that Adora can tap into at times, and that’s what she did here when she broke the sword. Prime was dealing with She-ra like he had never seen her before and the world had never seen her since before Mara.
⦁ In the initial version of this, Etheria started surging up to meet her and those cracks in the earth started pouring magic, but I changed it because that’s more related to my post-Heart headcanons then pre-Heart and I just don’t think it would work like that.
⦁ The outline of this scene included Adora bringing Catra up to the top of the cliff and then putting her down to fight Prime, but that was… a bad idea, so I had Adora put her down on the ground. I considered having the grass grow under Catra as a part of She-ra’s “life” powers (another headcanon), but that felt too close to Perfuma’s powers, and Perfuma was literally there, so I just had Perfuma do it and she made the protective tangle while she was at it.
⦁ I’m not entirely sure that the ending I wrote here is possible. Let me explain. My interpretation of Prime’s hivemind and body jumping is that he basically can’t be killed because, like Corypheas (to everybody who just cringed internally, I salute you, we did time in the trenches together), he always moves to the next body when his current one is damaged. Thus, you have to disable the entire hivemind before you can trap his current body and kill him off in that. That means that in this canon, Adora can’t kill him off yet because she hasn’t yet destroyed the mothership, but I went with the logic that once she has started that… magic purge thing she does, he can’t move, and without him in the system imposing order on it, the hivemind becomes a thousand discordant voices that don’t even know how to speak on their own, essentially debilitating them until the mothership is destroyed and they all become individuals. The clones do calm down, but right now they can barely think and are prone to lashing out.
⦁ I forgot not everyone is as insane about this show as I am when someone brought up the failsafe in the comments, so I’ll clarify here: the First Ones alphabet is phonetic. A reading/writing guide was uploaded to the show/Dreamworks’ social medias with all the details, but basically the failsafe/word Heart from the show is formed from a base word bar with two decorative elements sticking out of the top on both ends to form the top of the heart. The language is read right to left, so the outlines for the bottom half of the heart are made from the sounds/letters H and R on the right, and T on the left. So when Adora says she has H and R, she means she quite literally has one half of the heart, while Catra has the other containing the T, like one of those half-heart best friend necklaces totally not baby-lesbians get with each other.
⦁ The Hearrrrrrrrrrtttt sceneeeeee god okay. Man I really like this fic can you tell XD Them intertwining in the Heart is something that can be So Personal- OKAY I swear I’ll stop memeing now. The intertwining thing was born of them needing to share the failsafe for Catra to survive it (initial outline just called for Adora “taking” it from Catra via She-ra and the healing magic, I changed that and it’s way better this way) but then I absolutely loved what it led to. It also really helps resolve a lot of their personal issues to see each other, stripped and honest and incapable of hiding. Adora can feel how Catra truly, truly doesn’t need her to be useful to love her, and Catra can feel how Adora loves her even when she doesn’t show it how Catra needs, not to mention how her friends in general love her and think about her when she isn’t there. All of these are things they realize over the periods of weeks and months and years post-canon, but they got to kind of speedrun that process here. And also it’s just so fucking yuri I had to do it.
⦁ In the finale of the show, someone on crew (pretty sure it was ND) said the original idea was for the burst of magic to shoot up and destroy the mothership, but someone on crew (and I know he named and credited them, I just can’t remember who right now) came up with the idea for it to be overtaken by that tangle of plant life instead to reclaim it, and he thought that was a better idea. And I don’t disagree with that. But in this one they went with that first option and just blasted him out of the sky lol.
Once More, With Feeling [one shot]
⦁ These two dumbasses blush when talking/thinking about the Heart for so long, half the Princess Alliance is convinced they had victory sex down there or something, but no, they’re just so fucking gay.
⦁ It's... kind of a headcanon? For my own fic? But they do end up going out to explore space with the help from some reformed clones (when it comes to spaceship building/repair and intergalactic navigation) at some point after the war and eventually come across Krytis, because I can't leave Melog there forever.
⦁ I have a list of some more ideas for this universe, so I will return at some point, but I need a break. I had SO much fun with this fic, it was absolutely wild, but it was also a long ride and my creativity needs a bit of a rest or I might burn out.
Original Outline:
Originally this series wasn’t supposed to have plot and I had disclaimers about that. Okay, there was supposed to be some plot (Fics 1 & 3, the breakup, and the finale fic) but there was very little aside from that. Even the finale fic, I didn’t have context for how that happened, it was just “confrontation with Horde Prime looked different since Catra never got captured since she was never with the Horde.”
Never with the Horde. Yeah.
So. When I was first planning this series, I only briefly considered the possibility of not breaking them up, because in this AU they’re extremely codependent and it’s not healthy. They absolutely needed to learn to function independently of each other, and I love angst. However, the initial idea was just that they would break up and Catra would run away to the Whispering Woods, having her own adventures, getting caught up in shit but luckily never any missions with Adora.
Then I went to sleep (while writing the first fic, I think, but maybe just planning), and by the time I got up the next morning I had written the entirety of the deflection fic (that’s what I called I’d Die Just to Be Someone for a while) in my head. I sat down in front of my rough timeline for the series that acted as an outline and went “‘kay how do I mess this up because this idea is so angsty I can’t not.” I mean I did consider not, I outlined like three or four different back halves of the fic using the deflection and not, but in the end I hammered out my best version of them with the deflection in place.
Having such an arc determined for the series really changed the way I thought about it in that it needed to have structure now rather than doing whatever I wanted like before, but I kept the nonlinear nature of the series like I first planned.
When I constructed the arc, it had an overall pretty simple structure with 1 plot forwarding fic followed by one character/world building or backstory/fluff fic, repeat 5/6 times. This changed almost immediately because I kept having ideas for new insert fics. Maze (Literal, Metaphorical), Girls Talk, and Halls That Make a Home were not in the original list of ideas, and HTMaH was just supposed to be a filler fic once inserted but ended up somewhere halfway between that and plot since it brings up the Entrapta thing before we hit the portal and is where Adora reveals her backstory.
The fact I kept wanting to move around fics didn’t help. The first 3 fics were as planned, the forth fic was supposed to be “something in the Rebellion,” which I suppose it is, only the ideas that were supposed to go there ended up being in the 11th fic in the series. Then the 5th was as planned, 6th and 7th were come up with while writing the series (the single fic that was supposed to take their place ended up as a scene in the 11th fic), and 8, 9, and 10 were as planned. 11 kind of fluctuated but was originally the library fic before that got moved earlier (because I really wanted to write it and it was a good way to introduce the Entrapta thing). 12, 13, and 14 were all as planned again, though.
BTW, when I say “as planned,” I mean the fic topic was as planned. Some of them still saw changes within that fic, but most of them were just a few sentences of summary so there was plenty of room to grow.
Also… let’s talk about those other endings. Because I ended up with two “main” versions once the deflection was planned, so there was a second version of the ending I was toying with up until the point of no return (fic 8). The other version of the end was that Scorpia never connected with the Garnet, but they discovered the Heart, and Light Hope was forced to try to activate it. Without the Garnet connected, it couldn’t go through, but it started enough for Prime to pick up signals and he (at least kind of) realized what Etheria’s deal was. This was the first way I explained the sword being kept intact (though Catra did still help Adora out).
What did this result in? Well, Prime figured out the temporal thing and started sending clones back in time to fight Etheria. This led to a much different looking war, with clones at first supplementing the Horde’s ranks, and then overthrowing Hordak when they realized what was up and marching on everybody. Once sent back in time, however, they were cut off from the hivemind and it was a disorganized mess, so Prime himself eventually realized that was the problem after sending waves and waves of clones back in time and went back himself. The stand off happened pretty similarly, Adora purified him and freed all the clones in their time, and then they used the Heart to move Etheria into the wider world, scattering the army in the process.
Honestly, there’s just a lot of logistical problems with this version of the end, and maybe I could have hammered them out and changed things around, but I liked the version I used better because it was just simpler and I feel like all that timetravel and different-looking war stuff would have gotten convulted and muddied the story pretty quickly. As much as I liked the idea of going in on my time travel headcanon, it was just too much. It would have necessitated at least two more fics that I don’t think would have been that interesting. I love how this series came out, so I think I made the right call there, lol. The only loss was that “This is Where Separation Ends” doesn’t also represent Etheria moving into the universe anymore since that already happened two fics ago, but it’s still the effective joining with the universe since Prime’s army was cutting them off, so good enough lol.
Meta:
Season One Fic Notes
Catra’s clothes (Wild, Weird)
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Upcoming:
I’m torn between two projects right now, so I’m not sure yet, but it’ll be a short multi-chapter fic either way so it will probably start in the next couple days
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