always ends as a failure


No matter what I attempt, even if it’s the most simple of tasks, it always ends in failure. Unfortunately, I find that my life is one big regret after another. Yet, after all these years, I still don’t know when to give up. Is it my fault to keep trying when the results are always the same? Is it impossible for me to make things right? Even if I’d try to give up, I don’t think I could. It’s not in my nature to submit in the face of disappointment. In the end, I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment. I really am an idiot.

Shouseins top 20 favorites anime characters:  Pris top 10. #01 - Allen Walker (D Gray Man)

Deception is Key

To @clouds-crying-rain. Sorry it took too long, (shit happened) :D

based on this lovely prompt. 


“Don’t you get it, Shiro?” Lance gripped the small screw in his hand, the pain giving him the focus he badly needed. “We don’t have a chance against the Galra. They outnumber us by millions. D’you think we can fight every fight, win every battle without any permanent casualties?”

“Don’t say that, Lance. I know you don’t believe that. Voltron is strong, we are strong as long as we work together as a team, we can defeat them.” Shiro took a step forward but the Galran soldier held him back. “Please Lance, don’t go.” Shiro pleaded, his voice so vulnerable that Lance almost turned and wrap Shiro in his arms…


Lance saw the glint in Lotor’s eyes. Lotor was Zarkon’s only heir, tasked to rule over his father’s empire and to bring an end to Voltron. His attempts were always a failure that it was almost funny. But after a few skirmishes here and there, Prince Lotor has learned Voltron’s strengths and weaknesses, so much so that he was able to execute a flawless plan that led them here. 

“And what if I stay?” Lance turned to show Shiro a mockingly sweet smile. “What will I come back to?” In order to make this convincing, Lance needed to cut deep and true. He needed to open the floodgates and drown.  

“A team who treats me like shit? That no matter what I do, I will never ever be enough? Because if that’s it, then I’d rather sell my soul to the devil that is the Galra than to be reminded every single fucking day that I am a worthless, good for nothing Paladin who’s just a waste of space.” Lance was doing damage, he was still wearing his helmet and the comms were live. He knew that, but once the floodgates that was his emotional control crumble, be ready to drown; survivors be damned. “You think I don’t hear the whispers and mutters of each of these people who have the balls to call me their friend? ‘Lance messed up again.’ ‘Guess who couldn’t keep it in their pants?’ ‘Why me? He’ll just mess up one way or another.’ Guess what fuckers, I heard all of that.” Lance felt his eyes burn, but not with tears this time.

“So tell me, Shiro, what good will come out with me coming back to those bastards, huh? And don’t say that the team will change or any of your leader bullshit because I know, based from experience, that people don’t change that easily. Hell, they’ll probably play nice because I’m a fucking time bomb. They’ll say sweet things because they know that if they mess up, I’ll do this again. I can practically hear Pidge saying it right now.” This is good. Lance didn’t want to let Shiro talk because he knew that his facade will crumble if he did. 

“Please. If not the team, then me. Come back to me, Lance. I-I’ll be good to you, I promise. Lance, please. I-I love you, Lance. Don’t go please. I can’t lose you.” Shiro’s voice was watery and thin, that even in this distance, Lance can see the tears that glisten on his eyes.

*Caution: Shangst approaching*

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Reasons the Jedi Should End 11/?

Obi-Wan(’s inability to communicate in emotional terms makes it sound as if he) cares more about lightsabers than people.

I hope I’m educating outsiders about the long time existence of fatphobia in the African American community.

So many people believed and still believe black women don’t experience fatphobia because of the myth that most African America men like curvy or thick women. This belief ignored years of fat black women or bigger black women who’ve suffered through body image issues, and eating disorders. Every time there’s a study it’s perpetuating the myth that all of us are happy with our bodies because our culture loves bigger girls. That’s complete rubbish and I know that with a fact. That’s not true and has never been true. 

What they don’t know is that our culture’s definition of “thick” is a skinny girl with an acceptable amount of butt and boobs, and has always been.

I mentioned the video model/urban magazine era and how I’ve been around long enough to remember it, and how many believed that era supposedly highlighted the belief or myth that black men preferred bigger women because they were using video models in their videos. In Westernized America where Victoria Secret models are the standard, in black culture video models are equivalent to my size.

If you Google Ki Toy, Melyssa Ford, Vida Guerra, KD Aubert, Bria Myles (some of their pictures are NSFW, and I can’t think of anymore, those are the most popular one’s I remember right off the top of my head), and see what I mean by slim girls with an acceptable amount of butt and boobs. 

And over time the girls got thinner, and the actual thick girls got called too fat, and turned away from videos. Even in old school Hip-Hop videos (Baby Got Back for example), and R&B videos the women were slim not “thick” and definitely never fat/plus size.

There has never been a time in our culture where bigger black women were actually celebrated. The only time we did feel a litte reassured is when another fat black woman made it possible for us to feel comfortable (comedian/actress Monique). And plus size/fat black women always got/get the short end of the stick. We were always seen as the symbol of failure in the black community. The poster child of poor decisions. We had to go through years of being told how fat we are compared to other races of women with some loser pulling up outdated information about our bodies.

If you look in black culture fat black women are always people’s punchlines, it started way back then, not just because social media exists. Those hurtful images and comments turned into memes to bash fat black women have always been there. Joke upon joke comparing us to animals or inanimate objects in the most brutal or antagonizing way.

In our music and in film or t.v. like Big Momma’s house, Friday, Norbit, Martin (character Cole’s girlfriend Big Shirley where she would never be shown, but they’d play up horrible stereotypes about her size and weight by making loud footsteps sounds with the floor shaking indicating how big she was)and many other representations, it’s extremely prevalent to see fatphobia in black culture.

Our fatphobia also comes with racist perceptions about fat black women and black culture so that adds to the burden. Racism is a driving factor of fatphobia.

Fatphobia and eating disorders target black women too.

There's Something Special Meaning

I’ve been obsessed with Pharrell’s song ‘There’s Something Special’ ever since it’s been realised. During that time, I’ve been working out other hidden messages in the lyrics. Yes, it’s mainly about Gru and Lucy’s love for the three girls, but also has other meanings too.

The first verse is Gru’s POV (I’m a sinner) and it shows his feelings towards being fired and always feeling like a failure, and it ends with him realising that Lucy is entirely right and she’s the one who shines light on his pessimism. He needs to continue to do his special job of being a father and husband, as well as giving life the opportunity to go forward.

The second verse is Lucy’s POV, and I’m guessing the first part is about her finding out about Balthazar escaping; stealing the diamond and that it would shock Gru. But it ends with her optimism saying they should treat the next day like they did with the day before, and forget about the bad aspects. As seen after Lucy checks on the girls at night, she tells him that they have to look forward and embrace life’s surprises. After all, they are with each other no matter what.



“The end of a relationship is not always a failure. Sometimes all the love in the world is not enough to save something. In these cases, it is not a matter of fault from either person. Some things cannot be, it’s as simple as that.”
― Ashly Lorenzana

Saturn can be so restricting… so restricting to the point where you’re not allowed to breathe. Everybody has Saturn in their chart… Everybody knows how this feels. It hurts.

Remember that in order to improve, you must rest and give yourself a break. Sometimes in life, you must stop and take a deep breath. Yes, you may have failed a task, and yes, maybe failing to do what you wanted to do was your image of the end of the world… But failure will always lead to success if you work for it. There is no end to the world you live in.

To drive to your destination, you always have to stop at a red light. If you keep on having the mentality to pass it, you’ll crash. Resting and stopping is never a waste of time. It’s essential.

That’s why Saturn slows and delays. It’s so easy to beat yourself up, but you often do this because you feel behind… But you are never really behind. You’re simply stopping. Society gives you a pace to follow, but ultimately, you make your own pace. Just because the world thinks you’re behind doesn’t mean you’re not. In a societal sense, sure, but it’s ultimately your life. Your pace. Your standards. Your choices.

Remember to take a deep breath every once in a while.

anonymous asked:

Could you write a fic where Anakin performs a sort of traditional Tatooine for Padme (perhaps a sort of belly or flamenco type of dance?)?

The sun is shining through the glass, the rays gentle, and it makes Anakin’s hair shine. She directs his hand to her waist and leads him into the first steps of the Nabooian Quarters dance. In another world, one where a civil war hadn’t broken out and the Republic needed every Jedi they could keep, they would have danced this at their wedding.

He twirls her out but then she misjudges distance and smacks into him when she comes back. They both laugh and try to correct themselves.

“We’re not very good at this, are we?” Padme asks as they stumble through the second part of the dance.

“We’re practicing, it’s allowed.” Anakin says and then she steps on his foot. He giggles and sweeps her up into his arms and she laughs and kicks her feet as he spins them both around.

She’s back home, in the palace, and she wants to dance with Anakin. Talyn Morquestly, a prominent humanitarian here that helped her with her senatorial election, twirls her back into their arms. Talyn has always been a talented dancer and tonight is no different, but she still wants to dance with Anakin. She doesn’t want a partner that can cover up her mistakes as she oversteps somewhere or confuses right from left for just long enough to jostle them.

Instead, Anakin is with Chancellor Palpatine, talking in a small circle of senators and military heads. He’s danced with Senator Xuchi, her little form making her look like a child dancing with her father, and with Queen Organa, which looked very dignified and made Padme a little jealous even though she knew Breha was happily married to Bail and Anakin was crazy for her. (Anakin and Xuchi seemed to have a lot of fun playing up their height difference, at one point he held her high above his head and she laughed so loud it made her almost sound like a child, not a full grown woman on the other end of fifty.)

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Burden of the Heart

Originally posted by subcas

Castiel x Reader


Summary: After a string of failed relationships the reader finally realises that her heart is closer to home. As the middle Winchester sibling the boys help Castiel confront his feelings for their sister.

Warnings: Fluff and Angst, hidden feelings.

Author’s Notes: Sorry I’ve been MIA for a few weeks, I’ve been busy with work being self employed sucks sometimes. I’ll be updating Immortals soon and posting Halo on Fire once I have the first four chapters written up! <3

Requests are still open! 



The way he looked at you made your stomach flutter, your heart skip a beat, your chest twist painfully into little knots. Your brothers knew you had a soft spot for the angel, they were also fully aware that Castiel had a fond spot for you in his heart. Even though you had known Cas for several years now your feelings for him had intensified. It started out as a platonic relationship between the two of you, you drifted from one failed project to another trying to maintain a sense of normality in your hectic life by dating hunters, heck even normal run of the mill guys. It never worked, it always ended in failure trying to keep long distance alive through text messages and passes through town when you and your brothers were on a case. All communication always ceased to exist. Every. Damn. Time.

One evening you sat perched on the couch, a glass of whiskey in your hand. You recent relationship endeavour had ended exactly the same way, three weeks of radio silence and a changed phone number on the other end. You heaved a heavy sigh into the tumbler and took a sip of the remaining amber liquid. It burned your throat on the way down but you were past caring. Your mind began to fog at the edges, until a flap of wings sounded signalling a familiar friend during your hour of need.

Castiel took one look at you realising you were alone. He took a seat next to you and sighed, grabbing a glass off the side and pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

‘Woah there, bad day at the office?” His actions caught you off guard but you chucked at his antics.

He chugged back the alcohol, coughing and wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his trench coat. His face plastered with a look of disgust but he took another swig regardless.

“I don’t understand. They won’t listen to me?” Cas’ deep gruff voice sounded on edge.

“Who the angels? Because they’re all dicks. Well, you aren’t but you get my point.” You poured yourself another drink.

“They can be so… immature and naive at times, it’s like herding cats.” He stared angrily at the floor.

“Great analogy buddy but I think you just need to try a different approach.” Cas removed his gaze from the floor to look into your eyes. He offered you a warm smile before taking the last gulp and placing the glass back on the table.

“I’m sorry, I was being selfish by invading your privacy to talk about myself. What’s got you so down?” He nodded his head towards the alcohol which was dwindling fast.

“Same old, tried having a normal life and it ignored me. Again. I’m starting to think I will spend eternity alone.” Castiel looked confused.

“Life ignored you?” His dominant eyebrow cocked at your choice of words.

You let out a sigh. “I was seeing a hunter from Iowa, but he stopped talking to me weeks ago, he’s either dead or not that interested in me romantically, story of my life. Like I said, I’m going to die alone.” You let out a pitiful laugh as you tried to convince yourself there was no truth in your words. Unfortunately you were a hopeless romantic like your younger brother Sam.

“That’s not true, you have your brothers, you have me. None of us will leave you alone. You’re beautiful and intelligent, you’re a fierce hunter, any man would be lucky to have you.” Your chest felt heavy, looking into Castiel’s sky blue eyes suddenly the penny dropped, metaphorically speaking. Your breathing stopped, the world felt as though it were drifting further and further away from your feet. You acted on instinct, Cas’ magnetic pull had you shifting on your seat until you had leaned forward to peer at him even closer.

Two sets of heavy boots echoed in the hallway signalling your brothers return. They barged into the library where you had taken residence for the evening. They cast a glance at the angel that sat leaning forward, his elbows propped onto his knees, the close proximity of his posture to yours. Dean’s smile tugged the corner of his lips upwards into a smirk.

“Cas,” he greeted. Dean’s green eyes fell on the bottle of whiskey, the two glasses adorning the old wooden table. “This looks serious,” he laughed grabbing a glass. You narrowed your eyes at your brother.

“Yeah I just got dumped. Again.” You silently hoped your brother would be a little more sensitive and accommodating.

“That guy was a douche bag, he had a shovel for a chin.” It wasn’t sensitive in the slightest, but you let out a squeaking laugh. The guy did have a large chin, and his hands were small for a tall guy…

A few weeks later the four of you had tracked the blazing hot trail of death that lead to Indiana where a coven of black magic witches were wreaking havoc on the local populous.

One of them had hit you with a fire spell in the stomach, it had burned you intensely and split you open like a hot knife through butter, you were bleeding profusely from the impact.

Sam and Dean were in another room they didn’t see what had happened to you, they only heard Castiel’s pleading and desperate voice as he picked your shaking body up in his strong arms, carrying you from the cottage to safety as he performed his healing on you. You regained your consciousness, still feeling weak and dizzy from the event.

You were crushed into the angel’s embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head. You didn’t quite remember what had transpired, only that you had been hit.

“Don’t ever do that again!” Cas barked in your ear, still holding you close. “You jumped in front of me, why?!” His voice was demanding but shaking around the edges. You couldn’t give him a honest answer, you body acted of its own accord. You saw the line of fire and you jumped.

“She would have hit you.” Was your weak reply. Your hands hung limply on his back, he still hadn’t let go as seconds ticked away.

“You Winchesters…” his trembling voice softened as his embrace tightened further. “She almost killed you…” Your fingers dug into the fabric of his beige trenchcoat, balling the fabric into your fists.

“But she didn’t. I’m sorry Cas. But I’d do it again.” He finally pulled back from you, his hands wrapping atop your upper arms to push you back, he looked deep into your e/c eyes, you swore you could see heaven in those glittering orbs of his. Nothing was spoken from his lips, he said it all with a saddened gaze.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again; moments passed in what felt like eternity before he finally began to speak, “I -” he was cut off by Dean rushing towards you both, Sam sprinting behind with worried expressions.

“Y/N!” They shouted. “What happened, we heard something and then Cas running like a madman out of the house, are you alright?!” Sam knelt down beside you studying your burned clothes.

“Nothing Castiel couldn’t fix,” you offered with a weak smile before the world fell apart beneath you, you slumped but your angel caught you, cradling your body as he hauled you to the impala.

Cas’ acts of kindness only made you fall deeper and deeper for him. Never in your life had you felt something like this, but every single time Castiel got too close to you, pushed the platonic boundaries of your relationship he would reluctantly back away or disappear.

One day you heard Dean growl under a low whisper as he addressed Castiel.

“Cut the crap Cas, I know how you feel about her, stop messing her around with your rules bullshit, since when did you start obeying those dicks with wings? As far as I see it we’ve done them so many favours they owe us some form of blessing. Go talk to her.”

“I can’t Dean, I don’t expect you to understand and I know you won’t, so I’m begging you not to say anything. She wants a normal life, I can’t give her that no matter how I feel.” You could hear your brother let out an angry growl, you knew exactly what he was doing without having to round the corner to bear witness.

“You son of a bitch, do you have any idea how bad my sister has had it? Our father dragged her into this life, she will never have a normal existence and deep down you know that, you’re scared. Scared that for the first time in your life you are in love and it’s with a human. Don’t lie to me I can see straight through you.” You knew that Dean had grabbed the angel by the scruff of his collar as Castiel looked pitifully at the man before him.

“You’re right Dean, but I’m sorry. I won’t bring harm to her by being with me.” A burning sting etched away before your heart felt like it was consumed in a flame of black and empty nothingness. You backed away from the wall and dragged your feet pathetically down the hall, slamming your bedroom door.

Months had passed since you had overheard the two. Not a single word had been spoken about it, the following day Dean had eyes you in the war room with a look of regret plastered on his face. The next time you saw Castiel he refused to look at you, his jaw was square and defiant, refusing to give in.

You had gone about everything the same way, hunting and killing monsters, the family business. Dean and Sam never mentioned Castiel in front of you. They had obviously conspired behind your back.

One night you and your brothers had the liberty of freedom for a day after cracking another Wendigo case, it has gone without any hiccups; the first time in a long while. The three of you celebrated with alcohol mostly thanks to Dean’s suggestion and surprisingly high spirits. Dean was trying to chase a number of waiters, Sam sat in a booth chatting away to some pretty little thing with glasses, she looked like the typical beautiful but secret book nerd type. You sighed into your glass. A charming voice lifted the air. “Well well, Y/N Winchester. How’s it going?” You recognised the face but you couldn’t remember where you had seen this man in front of you before, you stared dumbfounded at him for a moment.

“You don’t remember me do you?” He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. You took in his figure, burly and well sculpted, his eyes a deep forest green framed by dark hair and a slightly out of place orange beard that remained well trimmed.

“Toby?” You quizzed. Hoping your memory served you well. He nodded triumphantly as he took a seat next to you, his frame causing the stool to quake beneath his muscular physique.

“What’s your poison?” He nodded towards you drink, you gave him a bashful smile.

“Whiskey, neat.” He gave you an approving smirk before ordering two.

“So what brings you to these parts? I think I can guess, if the barn out by the old stables was anything to go by it looks like you and your brothers took care of business”

“That asshole had it coming, yeah we took care of it, this was Dean’s glorious way of celebrating, and by that I mean he chases tail to get lucky while I drink myself into oblivion.” Toby laughed at your obvious annoyance with your brothers.

“Some things never change do they?” He gulped down half of his glass in one swift chug. The two of you conversed for what seemed like hours, Dean finally scored, wondering out with one of the waitresses who had finished her shift. Sam looked as though the stars had fallen as leaned over a book, chatting with animated glee with the young girl.

Toby was a good distraction from the pain blistering inside of your soul, he was attractive, a little older than you but he was just what you needed tonight. You couldn’t face spending one more night alone thinking of Castiel.

“Would you… like to go for a walk with me?” You stared dumbfounded for a moment before you hopped off your chair, downing the remainder of whisky and slamming the glass in the countertop.

“Sure, let’s go.” Toby grinned from ear to ear, the pair of you made for the exit, rounding the corner and strolling casually down the lonely dark road, illuminated only by the sparse light of street lamps every few hundred yards.

“So how long exactly has it been?” Toby began, breaking the silence between you both.

“Three years? I’m surprised you remember me, Sam and Dean are usually the victorious poster boys. I’m merely a background figure.” You stared off into the distance, recalling just how unimportant you felt.

“Who could forget your smile?” He grinned. You were an absolute sucker for a guy who complimented you in any way. “No way I could forget the girl who singlehandedly killed my fiancé and left me all alone…” his voice took a dark twist, his eyes turned black, his white teeth flashed danger at your retreating form.

“You took everything from me,” he spat, “and now I’m going to take everything from you,”

‘Your fiancé?” You questioned, searching your mind. “Shit.” You muttered, sudden clarity struck. You had killed the witch who lived not far from where you were currently held up. She had muttered something about getting revenge when her demon lover would find her dead. You had been the one to knife her after she attacked Sammy.

There had been a scuffle and all three of you high tailed it out of there fast, she was most certainly dead so you left her to her fate.

The demon was now occupying someone you had met while passing through town at that time, he was the owner of a mechanical shop where Dean had taken baby to be fixed.

“You little bitch, you’re going to pay, and then I’m going to cut your brothers into pieces and finally I’ll be rewarded by the king.” You scoffed at this statement, reaching for you knife but you weren’t quick enough, he threw himself at you, knocking you backwards into the road. His sheer brute force overpowered you in an instant, you couldn’t cry for backup this time, you were on your own.

You twisted fiercely under him trying to force him off but to no avail. His knife was held above you, ready to plunge into your chest. You closed your eyes waiting your end.

It never came.

You heard a squelch, a grunt and then suddenly the weight was pried off you. A hand reached out to you, a blur of of beige attacked your senses, you quickly grasped the hand offered to you, it wrapped strongly around your palm before you were pulled up and onto your feet.

“Are you okay, did he hurt you?” That silky deep voice, you knew that rich baritone anywhere.

“Cas,” you breathed. Suddenly you were pulled into his arms.

“I’ve tried to fight it.” He groaned, his hand finding the back of your head to hold you into his shoulder, his other hand finding the small of your back. You remained silent, not wanting to interrupt this sudden outburst. “Seeing you leave with that man made me hurt in ways I’ve never felt before. He almost killed you. Y/N, I’m sorry.” His grip on you tightened. Finally you returned the embrace, you hadn’t realised you had been crying until the fabric beneath you felt soggy. Your body began to shake uncontrollably.

“Castiel…” your voice was rough and hoarse as you whispered softly into his shoulder. The beautiful angel before you loosened his grip to stare into your pain torn face. His expression darkened at your state.

“I did this to you…” he whispered.

“No, I did this to myself. I thought I could forget what I heard that day… forget what you said to Dean as though you were wrong… I still believe you are, we’ve fought so many things together and we are still here. I’d rather cherish whatever time I have with you as something more than friends than awkward allies forever longing for each other.” You blurred it all out, you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer.

‘Y/N…” you were waiting for his to reject you again. “I can’t live a day any longer with this burden, I am irrevocably in love with you, heaven be damned I can’t deny it anymore and I won’t keep lying to myself or you.” His thumb traced the span of your cheek, wiping away the tears that refused to stop falling. “Please forgive me.”

You couldn’t find the words, your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you were certain it was going to give out at any second.

“Kiss her dumbass!” Dean’s words of wisdom echoed through the streets. You both let out a laugh as you heard the impala’s engine rev down the road. Normally you would have scolded Dean for driving under the influence but at this precise moment in the universe, you hadn’t a care in the world. You turned your attention back to the celestial being before you, smiling sweetly.

His hand guided your face to his, his soft lips covered your own in a sweet chaste kiss, but the passion soon heated a flame beneath the surface as his kiss deepened. Neither of you wanted to part from the other in fear of waking up from a dream.

Eventually your lungs betrayed you, pulling your mouth reluctantly away from his, he rested his forehead on your own.

“I forgive you.” You softly spoke, “I love you.” And like that your cares melted away, you were gone, falling into the abyss of love that accompanied the sensation of feeling complete with an angel who had pledged himself to you.


“No matter what I attempt, even if it’s the most simple of tasks, it always ends in failure. Unfortunately, I find that my life is one big regret after another. Yet, after all these years, I still don’t know when to give up. Is it my fault to keep trying when the results are always the same? Is it impossible for me to make things right? Even if I’d try to give up, I don’t think I could. It’s not in my nature to submit in the face of disappointment. In the end, I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment. I really am an idiot.”

d gray man + favorite character requested by @aatsushiis
allen walker requested by @nea-chi

Beautiful (Jimin x Reader)

Originally posted by suga-com

Give it up for my first ever fic on here! I wanted to start it off with a series that includes being a noona working for the boys. I got such inspiration from @haeng-syo-peace! I hadn’t seen many fics about the boys with a noona reader before coming across haeng-sshi’s stuff. I just really wanted to write more about it since I know there’s quite a few of us noona’s out there! If you read this, I hope you enjoy? Ahhhhh, hopefully it came out alright, let me know what you think?

 Genre: Good ol’ angsty fluff

Word Count: 1,816


 The first time Jimin realized he had begun feeling something strong for his noona wasn’t when you had done your make-up real nice, or even something cliché like watching you admire the night sky. No; it had to be when he saw all the horrible things some sasaengs said about his noona’s weight and appearance. Yet, you had simply given a careless shrug and a radiant smile at him and the rest of the members.

The boys had made a harmless enough mistake. Something none of them would really expect to have such a huge black lash against the company and most importantly, their noona. They had uploaded a Bangtan Bomb as you being their main focus to tease at for the day. Which normally happened away from the camera, but this time the small segment was confused for another and mistakenly got uploaded instead.

 The onslaught of notifications to your phone was overwhelming and the unavoidable insults being thrown about how you were “fat,” “ugly,” and a “foreign whore” took a toll. Despite this, you refused to show how much it truly affected you to the boys. You’d rather get punched by one of those crazed fans than to let them see your tears, or hear your sobs in your apartment late at night.

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“It’s been a long time since you’ve felt anything close to warmth, after all.”

“This is why it comes as a big shock, an unexpected surprise, to suddenly feel blazing heat just a small distance ahead.”

“It comes in the form of that excitable middle-schooler from a few months ago.”

“Loud and brazen, rude, are the words you use to describe him as you poke at him with your sharp tongue and smirks, getting off on the wrong foot with him right then and there.”

“You didn’t think you would come to regret as soon as you did, but you are.”

“You slowly start to add to the tags and labels you attach to him the longer to observe him. You do so carefully, but you do it nevertheless. You can’t help it.”

“You feel warm.”

He is the sun, the light that attracts the moth with never-ending curiosity and failure to realise it will always burn just as it reaches its prize. It never learns from its mistakes and neither do you.”

“You can’t help but watch, can’t help but bask in the heat he directs at you from burning amber.”

You want, need, him to look at you to feel that rush of pleasurable heat, chasing away the permanent chill inside you. But you can’t get him to, no matter what, so you finish what you started.”

“You can’t help it.”


                          Happy MiyuSawa Day, everyone! [2/18]


Sometimes he would look at Pete from afar, and, despite his infamous nonchalance, insecurity settles in. His Pete deserves better, a nagging voice in some part of his mind repeatedly chants. So he’d slip out and away, trying to distance himself. But, his attempts would always end in failure, as Pete always knew when that heart faltered; he knew what went on in that silly mind. And with just a kiss he would assure Wade that nothing in God’s beautiful universe could replace his idiot.